𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝙃.𝘽, 𝙃.𝙃

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡

Y/N's slumber was shattered by a debilitating headache, its crushing weight eliciting a low, anguished groan as she sat up in bed. 

Her pale, ethereal eyes flared wide in surprise, like moonlit pools reflecting the turmoil within, as the pain radiated outward, its tendrils snaking through her mind like a living entity. She shook her wings, and the stars that adorned them shimmered and flashed, casting a celestial glow around her, as if the very fabric of the universe was responding to her distress.

 Suddenly, Alastor appeared in the same room, his face etched with concern, his eyes burning with a deep, abiding worry. "But my dear, what's amiss?" he asked, his voice low and soothing, as he reached out to touch her shoulder, but the dragon demon growled at him, baring her burning eyes like embers, their fierce, inner light a testament to the turmoil that seethed within her. 

"I just need to get out," she said, her voice husky with urgency, her words tumbling forth like a pent-up torrent, and rose from her bed in a fluid motion, her claws snapping into place with a soft, deadly click. As she did, dark, flowing clothes wrapped around her, like a shroud of night, their silken folds enveloping her like a living shadow, and she vanished from Alastor's side before he could even blink, leaving him to ponder the depths of her pain, and the darkness that lurked within her.

Outside, Y/N shook her head, clearing the cobwebs as she walked through the streets of Hell, her feet carrying her on autopilot.

 The macabre sights that greeted her were nothing new; sinners had always been a strange and twisted lot, and she'd grown accustomed to their antics. But tonight, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that clung to her like a shroud. 

She took to the sky, soaring above the screams and wails that filled the air, and made her way towards the only place she knew she could find some semblance of peace: Lucifer's palace. 

As she touched down on the manicured lawn, she reached out to knock, but the door swung open of its own accord, as if sensing her presence. An unseen force propelled her forward, and she stumbled inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light within.

 Lucifer himself emerged from the shadows, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Ah, dearest Y/N, I knew you'd come to me in the end," he said, his voice low and soothing, as he enveloped her in a warm hug. Y/N patted the small king's head awkwardly, feeling a pang of affection for the being who'd become a strange sort of friend to her. 

But as she drew away from him, her expression turned serious. "I'm here for some peace, that's all," she said, her voice firm, her eyes pleading for understanding.

Lucifer's eyes sparkled with warmth as he took Y/N's hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a gentle, reassuring grasp. 

"We can always just talk, the two of us," he said, his voice low and soothing, like a gentle breeze on a summer's day. "I don't need anything right now, just your company." He looked a bit flustered, his cheeks flushing with a hint of color, and Y/N couldn't help but snort in amusement.

 The last time she'd been here, they'd indulged in a night of passion that had left her breathless and wanting more, but now that they could be more than just friends with benefits, the King of Hell seemed almost... vulnerable.

 He led her to a small, cozy foyer, where a big, plush reading chair sat before a crackling fireplace, the flames dancing and spitting in a warm, golden light. The smell of small cakes wafted through the air, sweet and enticing, and Y/N's stomach growled in response.