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2022-11-11
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The Ace of Hell

Summary:

You love them, and they love you. Here's all the ways how, dear reader.

Notes:

She gets her rocks off with Zdrada. She gets things off her chest with you.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Coffee Date Confessions

Chapter Text

Outside of the princes and the nobles of Hell, it was rare for a demon to earn a particularly fearsome reputation. Usually they were some upstart that was born stronger than average but still too dumb to realize how backtalking their superiors would go until it was too late. Assuming they weren't killed and memory-holed, they were usually so thoroughly humiliated that the only time anyone ever brought them up anymore was in-between boots of derisive laughter.

Suffice to say that those that actually managed to maintain such a reputation were people you ought never cross. The best example being one Pandemonica. The Sadistic Demon.

Behind her usual facade of eye bags and sleep-slurred speech lay a cruel and calculating mind. One that let her rat out her superiors for conspiracy and insubordination without being discovered until after they'd been stripped of their positions. With her hard work, and a bit of luck, she managed to catch the queen's eye. So it was she earned the title of "Hell's Customer Service Representative." Which was just an oxymoronic way of saying the queen would occasionally re-route calls to her when she felt petty so she could give them the run-around for hours on end. If any such victims thought to try and speak to her lovely assistant in-person, they found out the hard way what she could do with that whip.

The event that had really cemented her reputation was when she used the thing to flay some upstart petty noble alive in a matter of seconds. Somehow. 'Commoner' or not, the only people she wouldn't square up against after that were Princes. Though normally that just amounted to one of them appearing in a ball of fire and politely yet firmly informing her they'd be stepping inside to speak to Lucifer. The Queen at least didn't chastise her for letting it happen when it did. Even she might struggle against them. Pandemonica punched above her weight a fair bit but she knew when it was wiser to back down.

The idea that anyone could get close to such a terrible minion of darkness was mad, that she had some hidden soft side madder still. But reality's stranger than fiction, on occasion.

You knew her when she was but a fellow office drone, barely a month your senior yet tasked with helping you acclimate all the same. She tried her best, but it was clear that between the learning curve, her own responsibilities and the toxic management that used to lord over you back in those days that she was spent and suffering. You might not've been able to help with the workload, still learning the various systems the office used as you were, but you could help in other ways. Namely, coffee.

It might've eaten up a fair chunk of your meager earnings, but you came in near every day with a fresh-hot cup of quality brew to give her that little bit of pep she'd need to survive until shift's end. The tired indifference she initially greeted you with gradually gave way to familiarity. Eventually she'd ask you to stop bringing the drinks, said it wasn't fair to you even though you didn't mind. She brought for both of you, for a time. Then eventually you decided to do some research and found a way to hide a coffeemaker in your cubicle set up, helped her sneak one in so you could both just make your own. After all, management had been 'trying' to replace the broken one in the break room for... about 57 years.

She'd always argue in your favor when promotions were being passed around so she could rely on your support no matter how high she climbed. And also to make sure the only one that could boss you around the office was her. That finally came to an end when she transferred to her new position with the queen, though she did suggest you replace her as the head of your department.

The two of you decided to celebrate your respective promotions by going out for dinner, but it was a bitter-sweet affair. You knew you could still keep in touch of course, but it was a little sad knowing that you wouldn't be working in the same space, easily accessible to each-other for some much-needed friendship on rougher days.

"There's something I've been meaning to discuss." She said, dragging you out of your gloom for a moment. "We've known each-other for quite a while now and you've always been there for me. Despite my reputation."

"Pama, I know you're only scary when you need to be." You answered, her cheeks tinting a little at the pet name you only ever used when you were alone together. "We're demons. You have to frighten people if you ever want to get anywhere down here. It's why you're a queen's aide and I'm still working at an office."

"I know but I'm... glad. That you're not this way too."

"Hm?"

She clenches her hands as if mustering up the nerve for something. It's rare that you see her act uncertain so you can only imagine what's got her worried.

"I like that you're not normal. That you're not cruel, or power-hungry. You're so unbearably innocent at times I can't help but wonder if maybe you're hiding a halo in your back-pocket or something."

You giggle a little at her praise, listening intently as she continues.

"I like that you care about others even if they don't always deserve the benefit of the doubt. I like that you actually try making things better for the people that work under you instead of forgetting you were in their shoes a year or two ago. I like that you want to make people happy just for the sake of it. I like y-... you."

You blink at her for a moment or two, certain that the slight lapse in words towards the end had to be a slip of the tongue. But she just looks you in the eyes and repeats herself.

"I like you."

Oh.

OH.

You feel your heart clench and flutter, jaw dropping as you find yourself at a loss for words.

"Y-you...?"

"Yes."

"O-oh. That- I-"

"I understand if you don't feel the same-"

"NO!" You shout on instinct, the few other patrons of the quiet restaurant glancing over at your outburst. "N-no I do! I swear I do I... I have for years, actually."

"Years?"

"T-to be honest I had a bit of a crush on you almost as soon as meeting you. I could see how tired you were during our employee training B-but you never took it out on me. You cared. The people at my other jobs weren't always as nice. A-and I kinda thought you were b-beautiful? I still do, of course!"

"Beautiful? Even with more bags under my eyes than a luggage cart and the constant bedhead?" She laughs a little.

"It's true! Even when you were run ragged you just kept plowing through whatever was ahead of you. You were- are- a force of nature. It's inspiring! A-and I guess it left me rather enamored."

"Good. Thats good, excellent! So would you... like to start dating?"

"I... I can't do that to you."

"To me? I don't understand."

"Pama, remember when I met Zdrada?"

Honestly she was trying to forget that particular moment considering how embarrassing it was. It had been at some little company party she'd been invited to and she'd gotten two additional invitations, you and Zdrada being the closest people she had albeit for very different reasons. You learned those reasons in explicit detail when the punk-looking demon marched up to you and grabbed you by the collar, trying to affirm her 'territory' as Pandemonica's only friend-with-benefits. She'd misread your demeanor completely and thought the only reason she'd hang out with anyone so soft was because you were getting the same rough treatment in bed she was.

The Sadistic demon in question came over with murder in her eyes that silenced any cockiness the younger demoness had in an instant after some vague threats of 'reprisal' later on. She apologized profusely to you after Zdrada sped off, insisting that she didn't actually think both of you would be able to make it tonight and this way she'd have at least one person to talk to at the party.

"That whole affair is seared into my memory." She grumbled. "But what does it have to do with us dating?"

"W-well I don't want to be a sub-par partner. But I'm not really interested in all of, u-um, that." You murmured with a bit of a blush. "O-or sex in general, if I'm being honest. I don't know what's wrong with me-"

"Stop." She spoke in so sharp a tone that your mouth clamped shut on instinct. "What have we talked about self-doubt?"

"B-but we're demons! Even heaven-bound humans want all that. I just can't. I've tried but-"

"But you don't have to." She cut you off, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "What did I just say?"

"No self-doubt?"

"Before that, how did this conversation start?"

"...you like my differences?"

"I adore them." She smiled. "All of them. I know you've not any carnal desires and I don't care. It's who you are. And if someone dares imply not being some sex-pest makes you in any way "defective" I'll happily tear them to ribbons."

"Even a prince?"

"There's a first time for everything." She shrugged, and you laughed at how casual she was about such a potential undertaking.

"Thank you Pama. I just... I want to know I can make you as happy as possible. I don't want our love to be lacking because I can't provide a certain type of it."

"That's part of what I wished to discuss. You know what Zdrada and I have is almost purely physical, yes?"

"Y-yep." You blushed a little.

"Right. So... since that's not something you're interested in... I was wondering if you'd be alright making up for the emotional side of things. I don't need someone else to warm my bed. I just..."

"...need someone to warm your heart?" You smirked.

"If you ever say something so cheesy in my presence again I'll jam your tail in an electrical socket." She glared. "...b-but yes."

"I would adore that. I-if you'd have me."

"Then I suppose I can finally call you mine, love."

The tender moment was briefly interrupted by the waiter coming back with your card, which you quickly pocketed as the two of you stood to leave.

"You know I still haven't quite forgiven you for paying for the whole meal when I said I'd get it tonight."

"Your achievement's much grander than mine. I'd say you're the one that deserved a little... PAN-pering?" You grinned, trembling a little when you saw the sharp smile she flashed at you.

"First you disobey me and then you dare use puns in my presence? It seems our new relationship has already emboldened you."

"You bring out the best in me." You teased.

"And you in me, though perhaps I can also bring you home tonight?"

"Walking me home after dinner? Goodness, I had no idea you were such a hidden romantic!"

"You're pushing your luck."

"Got it sorry."

Shyly the pair of you interlocked arms as you made your way back to your residence. You lived closer and Pan was able to teleport to set locations as a perk of working directly under Lucifer, so she'd be able to blip out back to her own home right after getting you back safely to yours. Which you brought up when it began to rain just as you got back and she said she'd "simply have to stay the night now."

"You've just gotten me and you're already throwing me out into the cold? Perhaps you can be cruel."

"Hardly, Pama. A relationship just needs honesty. So be honest with me," you smirked. "Are you just looking for an excuse to cuddle?"

"Are you willing to be the little spoon?"

"That's not a yes, you know."

"It's the closest to one you'll get out of me."

"Well then I guess it's all I need."

She wasn't too much taller than you, so you were able to scrounge up some clothing comfortable enough for her to sleep in. You crawled underneath your warm sheets as the cold (acidic) rain outside began to pour down in earnest, making for some comforting white-noise that'd be sure to make you snooze.

Your cheeks burned as you felt her crawl in behind you, her long legs intertwining with yours as she pressed herself against the small of your back.

"I could get used to this." She hummed.

"Looking to make it permanent already?"

"Soon, perhaps. But it'll feel more special if we can't do this every night just yet."

"It's special because you're here."

"The same applies to you. Now rest. We both have busy mornings ahead of us."

You woke up with the sunrise, trying not to laugh and rouse her just yet. It was hard with her hair tickling you. You forgot how long it actually was sometimes on account of it always being tied up. But you managed to slip out of her arms, even if part of you wanted to stay.

You had to make the coffee after all.

Chapter 2: Kiss It Better

Summary:

To risk damnation to minister to hell-born demons must seem like the height of masochism. Perhaps that's what drew Zdrada to you.

Notes:

This one's a bit of a slower-burn, hopefully y'all still like it!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

In a place of torment like Hell, healing of any sort was a rarity.

Oh sure, demons 'respawned' when killed unless put down with a particularly potent weapon or spell, and the elite could regenerate even the most grievous of wounds without needing to resurrect first. But that was a gift for the Fallen and the Ancient. For the lowly Hellborn, all they could do was grin and bear it.

And your disagreements with that status quo are what got you booted out of Heaven.

Granted, you were in a unique situation where you weren't technically classified as 'Fallen' either. You didn't sin against the lord God, didn't delve too deep into forbidden subjects or fall to one of the sins. You simply realized that while your one-time kin down there had a choice and chose wrong, the subjects that slaved away under them only had the crime of being born in the wrong place. And that didn’t sit right with you at all.

So you spoke to the locals, making use of your old position as an observer and liaison between realms. You dove into every (fully approved) source you could in the Libraries of All Knowledge, and of course extensively annotated theological rulings and scriptures to string together enough coherent points to try and politely yet firmly insist to your superiors that if but one natural-born demon showed signs of humanity, they deserved a chance. Maybe not at Heaven right off the bat but rebirth as a human first, or a comparatively kinder place to stay like Purgatory.

You skirted damnation when you refused to back down after being dismissed outright. You only lasted as long as you did because outside of that sticking point there wasn't a shred of sin to be found in you. So you petitioned and wrote and waited outside of offices as much as your free-time would allow, running yourself half-mad and ragged until finally, FINALLY they gave you a proper hearing. The whole Arch-Council.

The implicit threat that they'd also all united in case they finally had to banish you didn't need to be clarified. You knew it. They knew it. The crowd of lower-ranked officers and more civilian Angels all knew it. You were terrified, of course. But sure in your pursuit. Sure that it was in the spirit of His love. Not that you claimed to know His plan at all though. You made extremely certain to never even imply such given that line of thinking led to the Morningstar Rebellion.

The whole proceeding lasted... hours? Days? It was closer to days when you try and think back on it. Around a week sounds about right. And oh what a tortuous back and forth it was. Just when you thought one of them was about to bolt up from their seat and demand your incineration, another would quirk their head and ask you to expand upon a point, nodding as you went into further detail. You'd accounted for just about every question after all. Thank God that Heaven could just magic up paper instead of needing trees for it, you would've used up a forest with all the notes you'd prepared otherwise.

Eventually you'd brought them all to a sort of middle ground. They still didn’t agree with your stance but they couldn’t bring themselves to simply dismiss the points you made on it with all the supporting evidence you had, evidence bearing the council's own seal of approval especially. But it couldn't be that simple, of course. The lower ranks began to murmur. You'd wanted to change minds but you knew you had to convince the higher ups before them lest they think you were trying to cause a schism. So when that last moment of silence could barely be heard over the din of whispers from the audience, they knew they had to make an example. And that you'd have to put your money where your mouth was.

If you wanted to find any worth redemption in the heart of sin itself, as Abraham had tried in Sodom and Gomorrah, you'd have to do so on your own. You'd still have access to your powers, but their usage would come at a cost. Any pain caused would be inflicted unto you as well, even in moments of self-defense. And any pain healed would surge its way through your own form. If you wanted to play messiah to the wretched you'd have to suffer for it, be their Flagellant. And take such a title as your name until you could be trusted to return and reclaim your angelic one (if ever.)

They didn’t expect you to submit to their terms, if their shocked expressions and the gasp of the crowd was anything to go by. But you'd invested too much into this to back down just yet. They'd taken you aside in private after adjourning, actually begging you to reconsider for your sake. You swore before them and by your Father that you knew, in your heart, that someone had to try for all this. And if you were wrong? Then at least others would be saved from their curiosity by your example.

The memory of your dismissal ceremony still hurts more than anything you've endured since. Your medals plucked, your halo removed and placed in a display for safe keeping (or for historic record if you never came back), your uniform torn at scrap by scrap until you stood bare before everyone you'd ever known and loved. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as they asked you once more, there at your lowest and most humiliated, if you wished to reconsider. And once more you said no.

You were given a change of clothes and warped to Hell rather than forced to fall as a comet. Though your wings and your hair have since greyed, and your eyes have changed to a muddied purple, you had neither horns nor a tail. You were not a true fallen, and given a meteoric impact would garner the attention of a certain someone that might like to change that, they helped you enter quietly. Their last act of kindness before leaving you to fend for yourself.

The acclimation went better than expected, but given that you'd prepared for the worst and said worst was actual Hell... yeah that wasn't saying much. Skeletons chomped at you in animalistic panic, their last vestiges of sentience convinced eating your flesh might somehow restore them. Gangs of lesser demons harassed and cornered you, a myriad of untoward intentions on their minds each time. All were dispatched by your magic that rubber-banded back unto you. If not for the durability your form yet afforded you you're certain you would've cracked all your teeth from the constant clenching.

The Morningstar eventually found you. And by 'found' you mean sent a squad of her personal guard to surround you at spear point and lead you through the city to her castle like some prisoner in a Roman triumph. She'd been all saccharine smiles and snake-like sincerity, chastising Heaven for throwing one so well-intentioned into such a dangerous den of vipers. Offering you protection if only you'd swear fealty. You tiredly refused, and only asked to return to your attempts at ministry to her people.

She looked at you with a predator’s gaze for a long while. It would've frightened you if not for the exhaustion having dulled your emotions. But then she smirked again and allowed it. Your efforts amused her, she explained, and she'd so enjoy watching you struggle to prove a point.

The devil might be known for her beauty and cunning but most of all she was petty.

You returned to your vagabond preaching like John the Baptist had long ago, albeit with nowhere near as much success. Or the wild honey to eat. Hell didn't have bees, it had Murder Hornets. So... many... murder hornets.

Eventually one demoness had given you the time of day while on her lunch break, figuring you'd make for good entertainment. She'd listened to your spiel about kindness and repentance, carefully worded as to be a call to positive action rather than some brow-beating guilt trip (seriously why did people think those worked?) And only snickered derisively a few times. Just as she got up to go, she yawned rather loudly and shuddered as she stretched, working a knot out of her back. You offered to take that pain of hers away after explaining how your powers worked and she gave you her hand. The sheer fatigue and muscle-stiffness she had sent you to your knees worse than any fight ever did once it all hit you, hacking and spluttering for a time. You expected her to walk off or laugh but she just stood there, wide-eyed and dumbstruck at how rejuvenated she felt. And then she proposed a bargain.

She'd let you stay in her home and eat from her pantry if you continued to provide that wondrous healing of yours whenever she returned home from work. A mere day's fatigue would hardly rattle you at this point so, after re-iterating that was the only condition of your bargain, you agreed. And then she got around to introducing herself as Pandemonica.

Life with your new... well less a roommate and more a landlord was spartan, but still a massive step up from the streets. You don’t think you could've kept enduring waking up to another pack of hellhounds biting you or humping you. Or both. Your "bedroom" was really just a particularly large storage closet she'd removed the shelves from with the intention of doing something with the space, but never getting farther than putting up the wallpaper. You had a window the size of your face, a bed thinner than a coffin and about as comfortable, and a little storage trunk you'd found in the rubbish and scrubbed furiously to make it clean enough she wouldn't lash you for dragging it through her halls. But you also got your take of the fridge unless something was marked. The coffee, of course, was her sole property. You had to muffle your mouth so she didn’t hear you crying when you finally got under the shower. With how long some of those bits of blood had been clumped into your hair you wouldn’t be surprised if they developed sentience. You knelt on aching knees every night and gave your thanks to God for what you now had. It might as well have been palatial amenities in your mind.

You'd go and preach- try to anyways- to whoever would listen on your little street-corner. You'd always get at least a few visitors on account of your odd appearance. Most of the time they'd just jeer, occasionally someone would throw a punch, all in all your name as Flagellant was a bit more apt than you'd like. But your new place of rest left you comfortable enough to start offering healing as a service. Free, of course, since you had no idea what a fair price was and you didn’t want to be damned for greed. But you had a tip jar. A tip jar that mostly went empty. And occasionally got reached into.

If envy weren't a sin you might commit it against the martyrs. Their mortality meant they only had to put up with so much of this nonsense before they got sent to Heaven.

But that was your life for the first few weeks after moving in. Building up a pitiful little nest egg to... do something, you supposed. Maybe buy Pan a coffee maker for her birthday. She was still curt but that might as well count as neighborly by your standards. Eventually, though, the status quo was disturbed by a new arrival.

Zdrada.

You knew Pan had a lover, if that's what you could call their particular relationship. You'd even met her on a few occasions, which usually amounted little more than uncomfortable advances or pointed insults in regard to your mission and your appearance and... everything. Really.

But apparently her house had been destroyed in a gang war. Two petty noble brats decided to play at being slumlords and didn’t particularly care about collateral damage when they went all out with their powers. That sort of thing happened a lot actually. It was why so many skeletons were assigned to work in construction. That and catcalling demons as they passed by just added to the air of suffering.

Surprisingly she'd actually had her place insured and signed a lease that guaranteed she'd get it back for no repair costs once everything was fixed, but in the meantime she needed somewhere to stay. You vaguely recall her mentioning she had a sister once but Pan didn’t even bring that up. She just got that look in her eyes she got sometimes with other people that you were smart enough to avoid attracting, one that spoke of sadistic glee.

She wasn't a charity service, so she'd have to work to earn her keep. And considering you and her already kept the house rather clean, it was clear there was only one sort of 'work' she'd expect from Zdrada. After a bit of back and forth she explained, in no uncertain terms, that as long as the punk demon was under her roof she was as good as her property, to be 'used' when-where-and-how she saw fit. If she didn’t like it she was free to leave. Zdrada seemed almost excited when she agreed, with a binding contract between them and everything.

You'd risked raising your concerns to Pan privately and she was uncharacteristically patient in explaining things to you. They had a safe word in case she ever got a little too brutal even for Zdrada to enjoy. You weren't interested in sex to begin with so their dynamic was already hard to wrap your head around, much less how an expression of intimacy could ever be allowed to grow so perilous as to need a failsafe. But she promised she'd at least be considerate to the younger demon's work requirements.

Said requirements involved getting clawed, bit and otherwise mutilated on a daily basis on account of her being a grunt in Hell's army, apparently. Aside from the noble elite and their legions demons didn't really take well to neat and tidy hierarchy, relying more on adherence to might-makes-right. Rather than a private in your home's Divine Army she was more akin to a gang-soldier or a militia, striking out in hordes of loosely coordinated squads as the threat-level dictated to keep the other native-born species and invasives from places like the abyss at suitable numbers.

You saw the full extent of the state her job often left her in when she stumbled home one day missing an arm and a good third of her face. You'd thank God in your prayers later Pan was working at the time. The bloodstains she tracked on the carpet would've made her murderous before you had a chance to clean them. You panicked, naturally, at the sight of your flatmate looking like a barely alive corpse, and reached out with your powers as quick as you could. She felt little more than a tickle as sinew restitched and bones sprouted from splintered stumps leaving everything as it ought have been. You meanwhile managed to get hit with such a bolt of agony for your efforts you were sent fainting to the floor, clipping your head on a corner of the countertop on your way down and knocking you out cold.

Of all the things you expected to see when you woke up, her looming over you with a worried expression wasn't even on the list.

"Hey... hey, hey! Come on man wake up!"

The ground beneath you was a little too soft to be tile. As your vision grew less hazy you realized she'd dragged you to your room and laid you on your bed.

"Why...?"

"Are you okay? Do you need like, water or something?"

"Why are you... helping me?" You rasped.

"Dude I thought you might've died for a minute. I mean shit I was about to, I just came home to try and scrounge up some liquid courage before I headed to the roof to speed things up so I could respawn. I mean we can do that- you KNOW we can do that. So why did you help me?"

"I didn't (cough) want to see you hurt."

She had an odd look in her eyes at that, staring for a time until she sighed and slumped against the wall across from you.

"Why do you care?"

"We live together-"

"No, idiot I mean why do you care about us? About demons! I've snuck a peak at you sometimes when you try that preaching shit. You get spat at, pushed around, treated like less that dirt and you just keep coming back for more! At first I thought you had to be a freak like me but if you were getting off on this shit you'd have sprouted horns taller than the queen's by now! What do you get out of this!? Why do you think we're worth the effort!?"

"Someone should."

"...what?"

"Someone should care. N-no one... does. Lucifer could be let back, you know. I-if she... apologized. There'd be a demotion, probably a probationary period but she could be an officer, not just some grunt. But she'd rather be queen of a (cough) wasteland t-than lower herself to follow orders in paradise." You began to explain.

"You don't have that choice. I can't abide how she acts but you? E-everyone else stuck in this neighborhood? You didn't get a say in this. They made you so they could have someone to kick around. Every time someone snaps at me, s-strikes me I... I hate it. I really do." You said as a bit of wetness pricked the corners of your eyes.

"But I don't hate them. I've seen this in humans, trapped in bad places with no real chance of getting out because everything's stacked against them just because it makes some greedy aristocrat that little bit richer. And we still get success stories. Even if their hearts harden, i-if their hands twitch in anticipation of a fight they don't make things worse for the people around them. T-they might even try to help, if they can afford it. If the same things happen on Earth, and people can still get to Heaven... you deserve a chance. You all do."

"...but what if you never find someone?"

"I will."

"And if you die before you do?"

"Then I guess I was wrong. But until I'm proven so, until this all turns out to be wasted effort I can’t stop. Nobody's ever tried before. If people don't want to be helped then fine, I was wrong. But there's thousands of demons down here. I haven't talked to all of them. I'm not stopping now. This place might break me, but maybe I can break it."

She let that all sink in for a while as your tirade finally came to an end, simply staying where she sat and letting silence permeate your cramped room. With a grunt of effort you got up out of bed and began padding away towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?"

"To clean the blood before she gets back."

"What? Why?"

"She hates stains. It'd hardly do if I did all that to keep you alive just for her to tear you apart."

"Let me do it."

"Do you know how to clean bloodstains out of carpet?"

"Er... no?"

You turned and kept walking.

"-but I can help!"

Then stopped dead in your tracks. Did... did she actually-?

"Uh, can I help?"

"Y-yes. Yes! That would be great. Thank you, Zdrada!"

And much as you dared to hope, that's where the ball finally got rolling. She'd sit and listen to you in little bursts, the longest being a solid half-hour where you and her went back and forth on everything from God to why evil exists. There was always a shell of indifference around her, but it seemed to wear thinner every time. Your success in the streets was still as non-existent as ever, but finally having someone genuinely listen was enough to keep you going. Even if she said most of it was bunk she still LISTENED, didn’t jeer or harass and only ever interrupted when she had a question- when she was interested in knowing more!

Of course, your agreement with Pandemonica remained, and eventually she offered to give you a bit of an allowance if you'd tend to her and Zdrada after their... 'sessions.'

For Pan it was as simple as absorbing some fatigue, perhaps a scratch or two. But Zdrada was always much worse off. They hadn't exactly been covert about what they got up to ever since they started co-habitating. You lost count of how many times Pan had snapped her fingers and demanded to be serviced or just bent her over the dining room table, usually while you were trying to eat at it. Which like, you understood it was her house and their relationship but really guys? Right in front of your salad?

The point was you knew (much more than you ever wanted to) just how brutal they could be, but there was at least clothes to cover up a good 90% of their forms most of the time. So when you first saw the sheer amount of lashes and bruising that stuck out all the more glaringly on her pale flesh as she lay sprawled out on her side, you nearly fainted. You knew demons could endure much more, hell even enjoyed pushing the limits of their tolerance for pain but this?

You'd reached out with a hand to rip all the hurt away from her but she caught yours with her own.

"S...slow."

"What?"

"D-don't... take it... all at once. P-please." She pleaded, more vulnerable than you ever expected from her.

"Zdrada I don't under-"

"Pleasssse... just stayyy."

Not sure what to say or do you defaulted to instinct, laying yourself behind her and removing the wounds one by one. A little whimper escaped her each time, which stood out as a little odd considering she hadn't even flinched when you'd repaired missing limbs (which happened a few more times since that first incident.) Eventually you'd removed everything below her neck and realized you couldn't comfortably reach up past it without moving her. Not wanting to disturb her peace you acted without thinking, pressing your lips to a greenish-purple splotch on her shoulder blade.

She sucked in a shuddering breath as you felt her whole form squirm, your panic kicking in as you thought you'd done something wrong.

"Zdrada? Did that one hurt? I'm sorry I-"

"dothatagain."

"W-what?"

"D-do that... again." She panted. "Please."

"Do, what? I'm sorry I don't-"

"Kiss me."

Your heart went cold as the implication set in. Oh no, oh no you couldn't fall to lust! That's not what this was!

"Z-Zdrada I... I can’t feel-"

"I-I know." She choked. "I know you don't want to fuck that's not what this is. Just please kiss me again. Kiss it away, please. Please."

The desperate need in her voice eventually eroded your anxieties enough to continue, shakily pressing your lips against more wounds as she melted in your grip with your arms now wrapped around her tummy.

When you got rid of everything you could see you made to shuffle over her to the other side, but she whined and rubbed against you in what you guessed was an instruction to just turn her over instead. The second she was facing you she pulled herself tight against your form, burying herself in the crook of your neck and squeezing into you so desperately you half-thought she was trying to burrow into your flesh.

One or two more marred her cheeks, whether from slaps or a crop you couldn't tell. Nor did you really want to. You simply wiped them away like the rest then pulled her in close and hugged for all you were worth, idly stroking her hair as she shook in your grip.

"Did... did Pandemonica go too far?"

"No. No it's not her."

"Then what happened?"

"I don't want to talk right now, please. Can we please just stay like this?"

"Zdrada I'm worried."

"At least someone is."

"Zdrada..."

"Just shut up and hold me."

"I... fine."

You lay with her until she drifted off to sleep, eventually unwrapping her from your body and wincing a little at the sweat that clung to you.

Pan was waiting for you in the living room, looking a bit more forlorn than usual.

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know. She's sleeping."

"Then she's alright."

"Pandemonica that's hardly-"

"I'm not good at this part." She interrupted, fingers fidgeting around her coffee mug.

"Which part?"

"Caring. You know, talking, aftercare. She knows. It's never been a problem but she's had something eating at her lately. Been more desperate for contact. I can give it to her but... I don't think it's the kind she needs."

"What can I do to help?"

"Be there for her." She shrugged, as you got up to raid the fridge. "She likes you, you know."

"She tolerates me."

"She likes you. She's told me."

"I... I can't reciprocate."

"Even if it's purely emotional?"

"What?"

"Flagellant, I fuck her brains out every other day- Oh stop blushing you've heard worse! Look I don't really talk to her. I don't know how and to be honest I don't care to learn with what limited free time I have. But caring is all you do. Can't you do that for her? If there's nothing sexual about it surely it won't damn you."

"I- I mean I suppose but, how can I make certain-?"

"Do you want her to be okay?"

"Yes of course!"

"Then do this for her. Please. I've never seen her act this way. She needs someone that cares. You're the only person in Hell that does."

Which finally brings us to the here and now.

Okay so there might’ve been a few more weeks after that where she’d randomly demand cuddles and kisses and swear if you ever spoke of this to anyone she’d kill you. A little blurb would escape here or there, gradually letting you piece together more of the equation.

How she felt trapped by her job and missed being a hair stylist, only switching occupations to make ends meet. How she loved what her and Pandemonica did but wished she could have something more emotional like what the two of you had developed, but felt guilty that such a relationship might trap you down in Hell permanently. And most of all how she hated herself for the way she’d treated her estranged sister growing up.

That last one was what she muttered about as she lay in the tub, you off to the side and helping with her hair.

“She never calls anymore. She used to try to, at least on my birthdays. And I’d still tease her about caring more about fucking her Joystick than getting an actual relationship. I g-get why she stopped but it still fucking sucks.”

“Mm.”

“She still picks up when I call. But she always sounds so tired. Like she’s just expecting me to make her miserable. And I do. I always fucking do even though I want to stop. Why can’t I just cut this shit out?”

The last of the day’s lashes faded from her skin as you scrubbed gently at her back. The pain of using your powers had abated somewhat in recent weeks, more a dull throb behind your eyes than a stabbing pressure in your brain. Whether you were getting used to it or just getting used to using them for her you couldn’t quite say.

You leaned a little closer and let her rest her head onto your body, not caring that her damp hair made your shirt wet even as she wrapped an arm around you. You gently stroked her shoulders, listening to the rise and fall of her breathing.

“I want…”

“Yes, love?”

“I want to be a better person.”

Your powers kicked in on their own, and some of the phantom aches and pains you suffered from withered away. The sound of crystalline chimes, just like back home, rang in your ears as warmth flooded your heart. You’d done it.

No.

She’d done it.

“The fact you can say that and mean it proves you already are.”

You gave a chaste little peck onto her forehead. She guided your face to meet hers and locked lips, albeit softly. The first time she’d done it you’d been terrified but a few dozen later and you still weren’t growing a tail, so you thought it safe enough to reciprocate.

“Can you invite my sister over, one of these days? I think… I think I should talk to her. But I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Of course, love.”

“Thanks Jelly.”

You laughed at the little pet-name she’d come up with for you. “It sounded like the middle part of yours,” she’d explained once. “Besides, it fits. You’re soft. And sweet.”

And despite everything you’d been through down here you supposed that much was still true at least. Your heart was not yet hardened, your kindness not yet snuffed out. Soft and sweet. And hers.

And that last part made this whole ordeal worth it.

Notes:

Definitely not the first person to write Zdrada having a softer, more vulnerable side tucked under all the snark and piercings, but damn was it fun. Dunno why! What were your thoughts? Was it a little too long-winded? And if you read the rest of my fics, should I do something else with the POV angel character, Flagellant? Weirdly attached to them now. Again, not sure why. Thanks for reading!

(Oh, also, can't decide if I want to do Modeus, Cerberus or Malina next. Any suggestions?)

Notes:

Felt like writing some non-sexual intimacy and romance for Pandemonica, will probably try taking a crack at that for the rest of the girls, maybe Helltaker too. Let me know who you want to see next!