New Years Fear

681 8 0

by crinolinegurl

by crinolinegurl

The Devil + Child reader
requested by @S203324
433 words
CW: Brief mention of child abuse, implied PTSD

For New Years, the Devil was continuing Dice's casino "tradition": put on a fireworks show at midnight. And while the whine, pop, and crackle of rockets incited "oohs" and "ahhs" from staff and patrons alike, one particular 4 year-old couldn't stand the sounds.

The Devil's daughter had hidden in a janitors closet, deciding that the smell of wet mop and mildew was better than the shrill cries of rockets. She had cried a bit while in hiding, but she was mostly silent, curled up in her little New Years dress her father had tailored for her. Her limbs tightened after every screech, waiting for the BOOM.

She had feared many things, coming from a rough home. Breaking plates, car horns, just about any sudden and loud sound was too much. But she could never fear Ol' Lucifer. While he wasn't the best father yet, his paternal instincts and efforts put him leagues above your old "guardians."

"Sweetie?"

The devil walked around the casino in search of his little demon.

"Candlelight?"

On any other day she'd come running, but the sounds outside froze her in place.

His words were muffled slightly, but they got clearer as he stepped closer.

"Has anyone seen my child?"

He spoke a little above his normal inside voice, correctly guessing what made her hide away.

A short creak of the door revealed the devil, his black, shadowed fur in contrast with the warm casino light behind him.

"Papa?"

He immediately dropped to a knee, higher than eye level, but closer nonetheless.

"My sweet little snake, what are you doing in here?" The Devil pat her head, gently scratching the back of her scalp.

"Scary..." her voice was dry and barely audible.

"Do you want out of the closet? It's no fun in here?" The devil lowered a hand to hers for assistance.

She practically jumped past his hand, gripping the fur on his back like she'd lose it. He chuckled.

"So," the Devil slowly got back up, precious cargo in tow, "Did you wanna go see the fireworks?"

She gave it some thought, absentmindedly rubbing circles into his fur. "Window."

"From a window?" His low voice had risen a few pitches to baby-talk.

"Mhm."

And with that, they headed to his office.

His office was cleaner and smelled less of cigar smoke than usual. The devil sat in his chair, "the throne," as they called it. His daughter climbed down and sat in his lap, both of them facing the window.

The once menacing noise was now accompanied by sparkling colors and the warmth of her papa.