hand for scale. i used liquid sculpey for the base of the wings, made and added all the little squiggles and strings on top with regular sculpey. painting them did drive me slightly insane
No treasure neither jewel could compare with you. No pact or sin could hold up to your soul. You are the best of them, of all of them merged into one being with something still so unique, utterly, wholly, irrevocably you.
And it's always been you.
Slow mornings without the rush of the usual workday, coffee and tea brewing with you perched on a chair, the same chipped cup that you never let the others throw away despite having plenty of others. Your perfume in the hallways, a signature scent that calms their heart and reminds them that they are home.
They always associate that scent with you now. Ensure one of its base notes are always in their own collection.
Eight mugs on the wooden table, eight pairs of cutlery and eight pairs of slippers in the house because you insisted shoes in the house was unsanitary. Eight of everything, even when you aren't there. Even when you won't be there. Eight glasses of hot chocolate from the stall set up when autumn arrives in the Devildom, same vendor since you always preferred that one. Your favourite fruit which is always brought first above everything else because you mentioned once about liking it. It never runs out in the house, even when all the other groceries do.
The silly doodle of Cerebrus on the wall which has <3 faces on it for all the three heads. Lucifer always complained about you making his guard dog appear silly but has never erased it, and it's been half a decade now. The wooden shelf above the counter near the entrance to the kitchen with which your head collided when you were chasing Mammon around the house. You got a nasty bruise to boot and the scratch mark your nails had made on it in the process. Still there, always there.
Your gaming console, which was Levi's, but now it's yours. Always will be your's. It has been picked up and used by you so many times it is only fair. And your favourite reading spot near the window in the library, which is was Satan's, but he will never let you know that. He always reserves it for you now because you sit there. Like how you have a favourite chair in the house too.
The left drawer of Asmodeus's vanity has all your items. Human world cosmetics because this realm's would damage your skin. You kept wondering why your moisturizer kept running out so often. If you'd smell Asmo's cheek you'd know it was him. And he still purchases it, never lets the brand die out in the human world.
You will always find your jacket pocket filled with candy and vitamin D, because humans need it to stay healthy. And Beel wants you to be happy and thriving. You said you ate sweets when you were stressed, that it helped you calm down. Now it's a habit he cannot get rid of, despite whatever years may come. Belpheghor's stationary pouch will always have pens with rubber on them because you prefer the solid grip they allow your fingers when sweating in anxiety through exams.
They don't need a sun, because you shine brighter than one.
You are their Sun in this realm.
Always been you, mind, body and soul.
Banter that fills busy mornings when one of them hijacks your bathroom because the others are taking too long in going about their business, or even 'taking too long to shit,' as one of them had put it. You simply sighed and brushed your teeth as the shower turned on, then rolled your eyes when the door opened again. The stepping stool put out for you in the areas with high shelves so that you don't fall, and which you used to square up to Lucifer when he was getting all high-and-mighty.
You must be the season between spring and summer, between monsoon and winter. Between death and rebirth.
With all your flaws and all your shortcomings, you're you.
Whatever may happen, has happened, it will always be you.
It's when you're laughing at something and looking at them first, teeth showing as your eyes crinkles. Or when your cheeks are red from crying, tears threatening to fall as you still look at them, after everything that has happened. When your brows furrow in annoyance, or when lips thin into a line in anger. They want it all.
Human, you are, and the best of them all.
Your toothbrush which still sits near your sink, haircare products in the shelf. Clothes waiting to be worn again and the slippers that are kept by your dressing table. All your items waiting for you to use them, whatever millennia it may be in.
You'd promised you would always find them.
And they're waiting for you to come back, bring with you all the seasons and the in-between, the sun and the warmth that you always have to give.
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