Work Text:
"This is so to me, who left everything necessary behind in the womb"
The Devil had never tasted what was true love. After all, she was never truly wanted.
The Devil was only one, and not one was like her.
And so, The Devil was left to stare into the mirrors which she soon turned around as she could no longer stand herself.
The Devil soon realized what the world had offered her, which was nothing, on a reversed platter that would only sentence her back to the mirrors, which she would always return to.
The Devil longed for what was called love. The Devil had never been offered anything, and so, The Devil would destroy.
The Devil had left everything necessary behind in the womb, and soon accepted what could not be fixed must be broken. Instead of returning to her mirrors, she smashed them.
The Devil had walked a path of loneliness, and soon found that her destruction only left her in her sorrow and changed nothing, and as The Devil offered the apple to Eve, she found that what she had wanted had succeeded,
Though she was left alone as she always was, her bitterness and her anger would soon consume her until she could no longer breathe, and she was swallowed up, though this time she did not fight back as it consumed her,
The Devil would soon no longer care for what the mirrors were, or for what anything was no longer. The Devil had destroyed Eve as it lay wrapped around the tree, and soon her plan fell into place.
"The child who lost their way back home has forgotten even the fact of going back. And so, they wish for death once again.”
The Devil had her fun and danced circles around the mortal men and her plan fell into place, though just as before, The Devil had soon forgotten what she truly was, and once again offered the apple.
And when The Devil found that her ever-growing power would soon pummel, her work destroyed and shot down, as her power was stripped from her, she had soon found that she was never once loved, and had been cast off and had faded into the wind, and soon she was gone with it.
Perhaps The Devil was never meant to be the protagonist of her story, and her hopes to be loved were futile and left in for ruins just as any of her wishes had, and had left those hopes to burn in the fires she had created.
The mirrors had repaired, but though they repaired she found herself consumed once again until her being was no longer visible.
She had forgotten how to go home, and nor did she care. The Devil had tasted and swallowed the bitter feeling of being alone and had forgotten to go back, not that there was anywhere to return to.
And so,
The Devil wished for death once again.