(A/N- Hello again! This wasn't even requested, but I got this idea from something I read and had this written from a long time ago and just edited it. Also, I'd like to apologize for taking a super long time to actually post my writing. I find it kind of difficult to write something decent for these characters because they're complex. Nonetheless, I'm trying my hardest to publish something. Anyways, hope you enjoy! -Astraea x)

***This oneshot involves the reader being in a mental hospital and having a therapist. Please don't read this if that'll make you uncomfortable, I don't want to upset anyone. I am not glorifying mental illness. I know what it's like. So, once again, please do not read this if you know it will give you bad thoughts or make you uncomfortable. Thank you. x

____________________

     "So, how was your week so far, (Y/N)?" Your current therapist, Dr. Jacobs, asked you. She's a fairly kind woman, you supposed. But she, just like everyone else, thought you'd lost it. You could've been stuck with a worse one, though. She had short, pale gray hair, probably in her sixties with a frail, skinny figure.

But, one thing about her you've noticed in these few months, was her was her extreme nosiness, which was hilariously matched by the size of her actual nose, might I add. She can't help but get all up into your business all the time. But, when you think about it that's really what therapists are paid to do, after all.

It's always the exact same damn boring questions every Wednesday at 6 o'clock in the evening before you go to bed, and it's always the same short and mundane answers from you each and every time. Nothing really changes, and nothing really progresses, and that's just how you like it.

"Good," you replied to her, with a fake smile, of course, the one you've perfected. She gave you a faint smile in return.

"I'm glad, dear," she told you, gently patting your shoulder before scrawling down some notes in a book. 'Right. I'll bet she's real glad,' you thought. But, whatever. The sooner you were out of this stupid place, the better. It makes no difference to you what she thinks.

"Yep. I'm doing fine." That part wasn't all that true.

It's then at that very moment, much to your complete and utter exasperation letdown, the previously calm, torpid air is suddenly brought to life. Oh, how wonderful.

"Liar!" You heard him cheer happily from across the room then finishing it off with a laugh. And, just like you always do, you try your very best to ignore him. Well, emphasis on the word 'try.' His presence was one that demanded to be noticed.

"Oh, and your nightmares, have they stopped?" Dr. Jacobs questioned as she scribbles in her little notepad some more.

"Uh huh," you smile gently. "I've been sleeping pretty good recently," you answered back quickly, keeping the fake smile so you don't seem too suspicious.

"Ha! Please, they've gone from nightmares to wet dre-"

"And the voices?" Dr. Jacobs asked you suddenly, interrupting the crude comment being thrown from across the room, thankfully. If the blush in your cheeks intensified anymore, the doctor might have to run some stupid extra test. There was no way you could let that happen. If it did, you might be stuck here another year or two.

"Hm? Voices?" You questioned her softly, trying to show some innocence, though it was something that you longer had, of course.

"Oh, come on now, sweetheart. You can't just pretend I don't exist," he whispered in your ear, which made your heart beat quicken. Fortunately, Dr. Jacobs was too busy writing down pretty much everything you said, so she didn't notice it.

When she did look up at you, finally, a frowned formed on her lips, "well, in our first session together, you said something along the lines of a man's voice in your head..."

"Huh, I don't seem to remember," you murmured and furrowed your eyebrows in an attempt to keep up your confused facade.

He just laughed. "Pfft! Don't you act all innocent with me, darling. I know just what you are. A naughty litt-"

"Ah, Satanick. His name was Satanick, you said." You sighed a little out of relief when Dr. Jacobs piped up after a search through her notebook.

But, at the mention of his name, you felt your breath hitch in your throat as you cross your arms. Your eyes narrow as you attempt quickly plan out a non-suspicious, innocent response to her. This type of questioning about him has taken you by surprise. Typically, you two just talk about your feelings and all that shit, so this came out of nowhere.

After you regain composure, you swear the energy in the air has electrified. You can easily tell he's absolutely ecstatic to have finally been mentioned this time. As if he didn't have a big enough ego before, now you have to talk about him? He'll be overjoyed. But, though you felt like shutting that down quickly, you suppose you could stroke his massive ego a bit, just to see his reaction.

"Satanick, you say?" You question her, tilting your head to the side slightly. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a triumphant smirk on his lips while he watched you with his indigo eyes, which just made you even more nervous. Wonderful.

She nodded. "Yes, it was around when you first arrived when you mentioned him. You told me he spoke to you quite often and tended to give you nightmares." Dr. Jacobs explained, pushing her metal-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. You hummed, pretending to think about it for a little bit, just to humor him.

"Eh, I don't really remember anything about that name," you shook your head. "Satanick? Don't you think that's a pretty ridiculous name?" You remarked casually with a small smirk.

"Hey, that's rude," you heard him laugh a little before speaking up again, "hmm, someone's gonna regret opening their little mouth," Satanick snickered in a teasing tone before disappearing from the room, finally. That's certainly unsettling, isn't it?

The boring one-on-one session goes on, and on, and on. You became disinterested without his presence with you. Though he is very bothersome, he is the reason you have to have these stupid talks every week. It'd be nice if he could at least give you a bit of entertainment, as much as you may loathe him, or whatever.

To think, the only thing you ever wanted was a nice life. Maybe in a city, in an apartment, perhaps. You just needed to get away from my previous boring life. But, before you could do any of that, you needed, you know, financial stability. That was something up I lacked. I guess you could say you got a bit more than you bargained for when you got a hold of Satanick. Just a bit.

Soon enough, you both stood. Finally, you could stretch your legs. Her out of the cheap, white plastic chair, and you off of the hard, white lump you called a 'bed.' You walk with her to the door, or as close as you're allowed to be to the door, I guess. You stand behind the chipped white line spray-painted onto to the concrete ground a meter away from the only exit as you watched her.

"Well, I think you're doing a lot better than before, dear," she complimented, smoothing out her knee-length skirt.

"That's good news," you murmured, quickly checking around the room to see if Satanick had returned. Thankfully, he hadn't.

She turned to face you, a small smile playing on her lips, "I'll be coming to check up on you in, hmm, let's say a few months? Yes, I think 3 months will be fine and then we'll see where we go from there," Dr. Jacobs informed you while stepping out the door. You almost choked on your own saliva when she said those words.

"Huh? 3 months? Wh-what about next week?" You managed to stammer, trying to hide the excitement bubbling inside you. No, not excitement. It was hope.

"Oh, no, dear. Every time I see you, you're getting better! You'll be out of here in no time at all." She said happily with a smile. She then walked, no, practically skipped out of the jail cell you call a room. The heavy door slammed shut, and a clicking sound that follows confirms that you are once again locked up. Ha, not for too much longer, though.

You bet that she feels super special now. You can picture it now, her and all her little therapist friends sitting around a table, her bragging out how she has 'cured the incurable.' And everyone will probably rave on about how she should be given sainthood or something for this miracle. She's just dying to tell anyone and everyone that she's 'fixed' the girl who fell into the possession of demons.

"Fell into my possession. I have no idea who these demons are, but they need to back off because you're all mine." Satanick whispered in your ear, his arms securing themselves around your waist. Looking down with a sigh, you rub your hands along his arms. Thankfully for you, they didn't have cameras installed in most of the rooms, or else you'd be questioned a lot more.

"Ugh, I forgot you could read minds," you laughed a bit, thinking about how this all started with a roll of your eyes.

He spun you around and held you close against his chest, close enough for his heated breath to cause goosebumps to raise on your skin.

"Did you know that the night you summoned me, I was very drunk?" He whispered with a chuckle, tucking some of your hair behind your ears before his hand cupped your face.

"I know," you chuckled, smirking a bit at the memory of it.

"Hm? How?" He questioned, his expression showing his actual confusion. You roll my eyes again before answering. Did he seriously think you couldn't tell?

"Because you started ranting on about how bunnies were pure and beautiful creatures that needed protection at all costs," you explained to him, trying not to grin as you spoke. "Oh, and then you were talking about some guy, and you kept calling him a disgusting wharf roach, which I did not understand. At all."

"Ah, yes, that's right," he sneered. "And then you told me to leave you alone," Satanick said, placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer.

You scoffed. "Yeah, then you continued to harass me in my head, then my parents sent me here," you snapped, then glared at him as you ran your fingers through his surprisingly soft black hair and grabbed onto his twisted horns. He smirked devilishly.

"You know, if you wanted, I could take you back to my world and you could be my queen," he offered, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure Licorice and Lil would adore you."

"In your dreams," you scoffed. You didn't really like that idea. It'd probably drive you crazy, all those demons there. No way was that happening. "Also, I don't understand why you're here and trying to be with me when you have a wife."

He only laughed, "you're already in my dreams, and Devils are a bit different from humans," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. You rolled your eyes.

"I wish you would just go back to your own world and leave me alone." You muttered, only half joking at you stared up at him. He grinned.

"Oh, but (Y/N), you're the one that called for my hellish ways in the first place," he hummed, leaning in close to your face. His lips were just inches away from yours now.

"But I wanted an angel to gift me with fortune, not a demon to plague my mind." You whispered softly against his lips, knowing very well it'd piss him off. He sighed, stroking your cheek. He hated when you teased him. He's a greedy, childish, impatient person, which just made it that much more fun for you.

"I'm a Devil, sweetheart," he corrected you suddenly in a mumble, roughly pressing your body against the cold wall. "I'm better than any demon, let alone any angel." Then, just as predicted, he crashed his soft lips against your own while speaking to you through your mind.

'Darling, no God or angel can make you feel as good as I can. I know you inside and out. I know exactly how you like it, and where you like it.'

'Says who? I never let you touch me once, Satanick.'

'Well, I guess you're just going to have to let me show you how good I am, aren't you?'

____________________

(A/N- Done! I hope you enjoyed, sorry if it sucked, feel free to request whatever you'd like (it'll most likely be a long time before I publish it, though), and have a wonderful day/night/afternoon/evening! -Astraea x)

P.S.- Please, please, pleeease let me know if you have any other games, television shows, or anything really that you would like me to make a oneshot book about! And if I don't know it, I'll gladly look into it. Also if it has actual humans in it I could probably do better with that and write oneshots quicker lololol. x