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@prince-cresil
“Demons were like genies or philosophy professors — if you didn’t word things exactly right, they delighted in giving you absolutely accurate and completely misleading answers.”
—
Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters (via imagesofinnocence)
@prince-cresil
You know me so well, babe.
Dead and Rad
Aftermath||Cresil
The demon’s arms wrapped tightly around the boy, holding him close as the story gradually unraveled. It sounded incredulous, and yet, somehow exactly like Rian. There was a small wince at the mention of Sam and Alex being tuned into him, but it was hidden from Rian as Cresil rested his cheek on the blonde’s head.
“I’m sorry. I should have been tuned into you just as clearly. We are mates, after all. Even with.. everything that’s happened.” He cleared his throat then, trying to give his mind proper time to process all of the information. “I suppose I’ll owe the heavenly bitches now, for helping to bring you back to me. To us.”
There was another moment of silence before frowning to himself. “But why didn’t you try to find me? You never had any problems in the past. Should I go?”
Cresil didn’t play the old ritual games anymore. He was the crown prince of One, which as everyone knew, was the first level of Hell itself. Being at the beck and call of worshipers were things reserved for children and lower level demons- usually one and the same in his world. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time someone actually used his personal sigil to call for him. Probably thousands of years ago. He was sure that, by now, there wasn’t even anyone left on Earth that knew him, much less how to call for him.
That was why it came as such a nasty shock to feel the ancient pull in the middle of his favorite episode of Bewitched. He tried to ignore it, mentally swatting at it as if it were nothing more than a fly buzzing around him. Sipping on his soda, he watched as Sam granted Darrin a few wishes, becoming more irritated by the moment as the call only grew stronger, leaving him unable to follow the familiar plot.
With a growl, the soda can was slammed down on the table seconds before Cresil blinked into the other realm to see what was so damn important. A nose wrinkled as he spotted some blonde on the floor, blood spilling out of his wrist and into a chalice as some name was repeated again and again. Not his own- some female name, it sounded like to him.
“The fuck is this shit?”
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“Well...,” he dropped off. He wasn’t going to argue about how Miller looked to him, but if the shoe fit, the Talamascan was free to wear it. He eyed the man as cigarettes seemed to be taken out of a hidden compartment, reaching over to take one for himself when he realized one wasn’t going to be offered to him.
Cresil huffed at the threat of having Miller’s mother called on him. Fucking rude is what that was, as far as he was concerned. He had never met the woman personally, but he had heard enough about her from his mate to know that she wasn’t really someone that he wanted to meet on less than pleasant terms. Besides, she was a human, and unlike Miller, unaccustomed to dealing with anything of the supernatural variety. Explaining things properly would require more work than he thought himself capable of handling at the moment.
His hand dropped away from his shirt, all thoughts of invisible lint out the window at that remark. “Lazy? This has nothing to do with me being lazy. I- I just don’t belong here, that’s all. I’m not a human.” Yeah, that sounded good to him. Forget that Earth was one of his favorite destinations, forget that he was in love with the culture of bygone days or that his mate happened to reside here. It sounded good enough to him. There was no way he was going to admit the truth: that he was too emotionally retarded to actually manage being in a mateship.
Aftermath||Cresil
Cresil continued to stare with wide eyes as the Boy Wonder leaped out of the window in a single bound, knocking the demon back a solid foot as he was pounced. Despite his best efforts, his brain seemed incapable of catching up to current events, so he settled for wrapping his arms around Rian to hold him close.
“I... yeah? Why wouldn’t you be dead? You died...” Wait, that didn’t make sense. Cresil was pretty sure that, as a prince of Hell, he had a firm grasp on what happened in the afterlife. Hanging out in some rustic werewolf village in a frozen tundra wasn’t one of the available options. This could only mean that Rian hadn’t died at all, that they were..
“Wrong,” he stated dumbly. “They.. they said that you had died. They were positive of it. All of the reports started rolling in, and all of them said you perished in the war. I don’t get how this is possible.. What happened?” Now that the shock was gradually beginning to wear off, questions were flooding his mind at an alarming rate and he wanted answers. Needed them. Heads were going to roll for this mistake.
44 cool snaps that capture women posing with their cars in the 1960s.
