Well, I can't explain it. It's one part katarik's inspiration and help, one part Lucifer (but it's not a Lucifer story), one part my own obsession with pointless stories that only make sense in my head.
Skip at will.
Title: Anne and the Devil
"Yes," said Alessandra as she melted into Lord Bloomsbury's arms, "if you will take a repentant pirate as your son's mother, I will be your wife."
"Fucker!", said Anne as she threw the book against her bedroom wall. "Fucker fucker fucker!"
The Devil picked up the book from the floor, dusting it off. "I take it you didn't like the ending?"
Anne almost strangled her pillow. "It's stupid! Alessandra is a pirate, for god's sake. She won't quit just to be that idiot's wife."
"Maybe she loves him."
She snarled and threw another book at the Devil's head. He caught it, as she knew he would. "She loves her first mate Fred and you know it. She almost burned her ship for her, remember?"
The Devil shrugged. "That's not who the author says she loves."
"The author is wrong."
"I think you are confused about the direction of Jungian archetypal influence. You people are made of stories. Professional authors are the ones who make them... according to guidelines, of course."
"Guidelines?" Anne was snarling. "Whose?"
"Publishing houses. The Big Two. Murdoch and Trump. Warner Brothers. You know." The Devil waved a hand in a vague, encompassing gesture. "The Powers That Be." The Devil smiled. "Not you."
"The *fuck*." Anne sat in front of her computer and opened her word processor.
"You aren't the author, Anne. It doesn't count."
Anne didn't bother to turn away from her slowly accelerating typing. "Go away. I have a piratical lesbian marriage bunny to write."
The Devil nodded, his smile unseen by the young woman.
* * *
In a dimension where Troy is always at war...
"This power wasn't meant for them, Fallen One."
"We've had this conversation before."
"And you know how that story ended."
The Devil smiled. "According to canon."