Alastor X Female Deer Demon Reader (Rewritten)

She's Mine

Lucifer's P.O.V.

Ah, mortals. So fragile, so easily broken. Yet here she is, Y/N, limping through the rubble, blood trickling down her leg, but still defiant. Still standing.

I watch her, amusement bubbling just beneath the surface. She thinks she can make it. She truly believes that, despite her injuries and the chaos swirling around her, she'll somehow pull her ragtag group of sinners through this storm. It's... quaint. Admirable, even, in the way an insect fights against the inevitable crush of a boot.

I let them squirm, Charlie at her side, helping her along as if it makes a difference. Poor Charlie. My dear daughter still doesn't grasp the full futility of her efforts here, clinging to this foolish mission of redemption. I allow it because her hope entertains me-it's like watching a butterfly trapped in a spider's web, struggling to break free. So delicate. So doomed.

The others follow. Vaggie with that permanent scowl, a warrior to the end. Angel Dust, half-interested, half-amused by it all. Husk, ever the grumbling drunk, dragging his feet but still moving forward. And Alastor. Ah, Alastor. He stands just at the edge, observing with his ever-present smile. But I see the truth behind that grin. His interest is not in the group-no, it's fixated on her. Y/N. She has captured his attention, and Alastor rarely fixates on something without purpose. He's playing his own game, just as I am.

I could stop it all right now, of course. One flick of my wrist and they'd be back at the hotel, safe and sound, or perhaps gone altogether. But what's the fun in that? Where's the sport?

Instead, I step closer, letting the air around me darken, my presence impossible to ignore. Y/N looks up, her breath catching, but even now, even in her pain, she doesn't flinch. She stares back at me with those stubborn, defiant eyes, like a lamb standing before the lion, knowing full well its fate but refusing to bow.

"Do you really think you can make it?" I ask her, my voice smooth, dripping with mockery. I already know her answer, of course, but I do enjoy hearing it. She always has such fire, even when she's on the verge of collapse.

"We're not waiting for you to save us," she says, the words strained but filled with conviction. She's trembling slightly, though whether it's from pain or defiance, I can't tell. "We're getting out of here. Without you."

I almost laugh. Without me? Oh, sweet Y/N, you don't even realize that everything here is because of me. This war. This pain. The very world around you bends to my will. And yet, you believe you can stand in defiance, that you can crawl out of the pit on your own.

I step back, letting my amusement show in the curl of my lips. "You're playing a dangerous game," I say softly, letting my voice carry the weight of my power. "But go ahead. Play your hand. Let's see if you survive."

She doesn't answer, just turns away, limping onward, her focus on the road ahead. Foolish girl. But I'll indulge her. For now. She's earned that much.

I glance at Alastor, still lurking nearby, his eyes glinting with that insatiable hunger of his. He's been watching this play out with keen interest, though we both know he's merely biding his time. Waiting for the moment he can swoop in and claim his prize. I won't stop him-not yet. His game is small, insignificant in the grander scheme of things. But it's still entertaining to watch him weave his webs.

Alastor meets my gaze, his smile widening as if he knows what I'm thinking. "Quite the show you're putting on, my lord," he says, his voice sing-song as always. "I do enjoy when you let them run a little wild. It makes things so much more... fun."

I tilt my head, acknowledging his little compliment with a faint smirk. "Fun, yes. But this is more than just a game, Alastor. This is a lesson. A reminder that no one-no one-defies me and escapes unscathed."