Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful amazing OC that wonderful woman is created by the lovely @damn-i-exist who graciously let me write obsessively about her MC. Please give them much love ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Tags: Death, Man's Ego, obsessive love, sexual content and innuendo's
Summary: These are all drabbles written from various au's for MC and the love interests from Love and Deepspace. Current AU is Angel Au and Hades (video game) AU
Pairing: MC/ Caleb Xia
ART: art and image credited to @damn-i-exist who i asked permission to use. Check out her blog!
Greek/Hades AU
He finds her in a den of lust and greed, surrounded by clouds of sweet smoke. Where purity once covered her is now replaced by glittering gems over her bare skin. In the heavens, he was never aware of her nudity, until now. Now his attention was fighting to stay on her face, instead of discovering the curves of her body, the soft swells of her soft breasts and the dip between her thighs only hidden by the thin silk that covered her.
The women had painted her. His beloved eyes were lined with dark khol, her lips painted with rouge and the powder of crushed roses over the apples of her cheeks.
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He found her. He knew he found her, the traces of her laughter sprinkled through that low husky laugh he heard as she gossiped with the painted women lounging around her. As the angel came closer, bodies of sinful men parted for him as if they didn't want to be touched by his holy figure-- how could tainted men touch a righteous angel of divinity. As he was close enough to see the faint glimmer of grace under her gems, did she sense him.
Her head turned quickly, as she sat up-- her drink clattering against the gold plates as she looked behind him. Poison. Cool golden eyes, with pride smoldering underneath, bright beneath kohl paint . Her lips part, a slip of red wine runs down the corner of her lip --- it reminded him of blood. "Caleb”
For a moment, Caleb felt his vision spot. His wings, hidden under his human disguise, flicker threatening to break the spell, Caleb held his head. The images of her, before she fell of her bright golden eyes, her glowing figure in the thick overgrown gardens that beguiled him, being replaced by the woman before him feathered by the vices around them. Her hair was darkened by the earth, her eyes painted with green pigments, her lashes coiled, the apple of her cheeks red with crushed roses. Caleb felt himself doubted, even when his soul reached for hers. "Caleb," she said again, her eyes brightening like before, rising like a blooming lily with her silken skirts flowering under her. "Caleb!"
"It's you.”
She had pulled him down, to sit on the plush thick mats made of expensive furs with tittering women around them. Around them a young servant male, with delicate bones and tanned by the sun, pours into her cup sweet honey wine. Taking it, she held the golden goblet to hip lips urging him to drink. "It's good for you!" She tells him as she laid on him, and he became very aware of her warm body. Her figure, her curves and soft breasts. He knew of them, his lingering eyes strayed to them, but now she was dressed with silks that had revealed more flesh that he was allowed to see before. "Just a taste," she murmurs,"It's sweet like the pomegranates we used to eat in the gardens, even better than those." "No," Caleb found his voice as he pulled the cup away from her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. For a moment, he wished he could wrap his wings around her, concealing her from all this depravity.
"Who taught you this?" He asked her, thick brows knot with disdain," You can't participate in this, you know that." She pulls away from Caleb's grasp, and it hurt him. He watched her lips, that once felt warm like sunlight, pull into this souring grin. She tossed her head back and laughed, a rippling chorus of the women joining her. "Why can't I?" She challenges him, she coils around him,"It's sweet, it's rich, do we deny ourselves it? It's not bad, let me teach you like I was taught" She takes a gulp of wine and springs forward, a dark asp does she bite him. Her teeth sinks into his bottom lip, the pain sparks a vein down his body forcing him to cry. She muffles it, her lips against his, a union only special to humans, and down a rush of sweet honey slip down his throat
He swallowed it, his body demanded it. He could feel its heat sliding down his throat, burning him and pooling in his stomach. Gasping, Caleb wanted to flee, he wanted to spit out the wine, but she called him again. His name in those soft tones and giggles as she pulls him back, her cool painted nails drag along his jaw. "See?" She whispers, smiling widely, her eyes glittering," Just like I said, it tastes good.”
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HADES AU
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“There is no greater tragedy than to fall in love.”
Like all tales, it began with a king.
He likens himself to Zeus. It was his right, descendant of his many many offspring, who had inherited the throne of the Grecians on this land that flourished with bountiful olive trees tributes of Athena, rivers of vines of Dionysus own favorite grapes pressed into rich wines and even Zeus must have favored Timon for he made many sacrifices in honor of his great great grandfather. It is so by divine right of his blood, by his own practices, Timon had laid claim to a beautiful witch that hid herself from all the other dwellers of land. Beyond the shores of his land, there sat a lonely island that held a witch. Where beasts roamed it's tall grass, leopards stalked its trees, and it was filled with life and precious herbs. If one was desperate for a cure, they must make their way to her island, and hopefully survive the encounters of its living inhabitants. Stories of her beauty filled his dreams, hair dark as the reddest wines, her golden eyes rich as the ichor of Apollo's own sun, and skin so pale that Artemis had mistaken her for the moon itself.
Timon had sent messengers to bring her to his palace, he promised her the usual common things, gold, jewelry, power and of course above all himself. His tokens of marriage were returned scorched with messengers shaking in fear of the Earth Bound Caleb, who threw them from the island with his gods given power.
“Sire! You mustn't seek her again, her protector would kill you if you dared try again.” One of them had begged,” There are other princesses who would be glad to sire your children!” The brave and crew who ventured to the island agreed in a weary chorus, unable to rise from their beds.
“Off to the dungeon's with you,” Timon dismissed them,”Useless!”
Like all kings, like all gods, Timon desired what he cannot touch.
She did not come as easily as the others. Timon knew of that, his own men had returned thinned out by her own hand and by her lover who sent many returned with threats. But Timon knew little of fear and was as brave as the wild boars that roamed the land. Demigods, or blessed warriors must answer to their gods at some point and that too included her lover; once he was called away; Timon struck.
Hailing down on her, chasing her until they brought her back to his castle, where he proclaimed he was to wed her. It would take time, but she will learn to love him and his other glittering desires, Timon was assured of that. He was so sure he found his Hera, that unfounded belief was soon shaken by a swift claw.
“Augggh!” Timon retched. His own screams frightened him, he never knew he could make such a noise until now.
Through the hollow rich halls, from the gilded room, the emperor's screams echo as he clutches his eye. His dark eye hangs loosely between the spaces of his thick jeweled fingers, where thick blood dribbles to the ground, gazes around lost. Mangled! She crippled him! Timon's handsome face slashed by her ornamented nails, dipped with poison of the most venomous snake in the land. Pitifully , she had lost one nail to his eye, the precious thing lodging in his pupil.
“You whore!” He bellows, his face red,” You ungrateful witch! Where are you!”
Watching him, his captive laughs at him, the serpentine witch mocks his pain as she lays dying on the mosaic tiles. "I told you," she rasps her smile stained red," I curse you! I curse you until the end of Tartarus, you will never see the morning's dawn." With every word, her hatred bled into every breath she spat at him, if she was to die, then she would make sure he would never get to live another sunrise. “I curse your blood! I curse your name! I curse your legacy that you will never be remembered for all eternity!”
"Damn you! Damn you!" Timon bellows at her, his face red as his eye bleeds.
She passed between his cries for his servants, her spirit slipping away carried by nymphs of the underworld, her only regret was she hadn't been the one to land the killing blow. "Wretched thing!" Timon stomps at her corpse blindly, spitting," You shouldn't have been obedient! I was in my right! “
Here, our story had begun with a king who stole away the love of a hero, and like many tales before him it will end with the death of a tyrant. Upon every wrathful stomp he laid upon his dead Hera, Timon became deaf to his surroundings. He heard no cry that came from his servants, no shouts of mercy from his guards, and he did not become aware of the silence that penetrated the air from his once lively palace. The world held its breath as death flew up his grand staircase, and threw open his doors. It’s when his foot became stuck in the mouth of the wretched beast, was Timon finally aware of the ragged breathing of death.
Turning his only eye behind him, did Timon finally understand what all common men must find.
A name was whispered, it was not his. Timon would later regal his tale with how brave he was to stand up to injustice to any poor soul who sat next to him on Charon’s boat. However, that was not the case. Timon died, screaming for mercy as Caleb brought down his sword, hacking away at every limb he had, one by one until he was but a stump of a man twitching on his once grand floor. The demigod raised his sword once more, from his one good eye the last thing Timon saw was the name engraved on this monster’s sword.
She killed him again.
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Through the thick fog, Melinoe could spot the over hanging branches of pink tamarisk floating along the cool salted sea winds. From behind the pink florals, grew strong pines with strong bodies twisted up lording over the shores with sharp spears grown from their thick limbs. Her boat digs into the soft sands of the beach, uphill where the scent of sweet grass and full bloomed cups of narcissus swayed, hidden far behind the overgrown gardens of oleanders and asphodels, was the lair of the witch. Rather, home of the late witch who died decades beforehand to a legacy of Zeus. However it was not the witch Melinoe had come to find, but rather it was the soul who haunted the island, a demigod who had refused to leave for the gods. The serene island was silent of nymphs, not one soul stirs aside from his and Melinoe.
Beneath her burning feet, the dried grass gives way to a dirt pathway. Scattered along its old trail were scattered remains of armor, once polished and shiny, laid rusted along the path. Melinoe noted with a keen gaze, several were damaged beyond repair, bronze shells cracked like simple egg shells, shafts of lances lodged between dull helm some found homes in the bark of nearby trees
Stepping over the fallen skeleton of a mortal, Melinoe felt it. It would be foolish not to notice it. The island had become silent. The birds have fallen silent, scattering away to the nearby islands, the prey hid beneath the dirt, and the whole family of boars she had spotted did not make a single snort. The only sign of life was the spotted skin of a leopard, the elusive beast disappeared from sight. The princess heard no wind, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing. Before Melinoe could turn, a sharp blade peeked at the skin of her neck.
“Wait!” It was all the princess could say as the blade swung down. It would take another run, until she made it back on that island, no less wary than before.
The tale of the Witch and the Earth Bound Hero Caleb, a demigod of unknown legacy blessed by the god Ares and Aphrodite, was nothing short of a tragic Grecian tale. By the low smoldering hearth, Caleb regaled Melinoe of this tragic tale, his low voice haunting the glimmering walls, echoing into the darkness of the empty home. His staff pokes the ever warm embers of the last pyre that burned there. The light of the dim fire illuminated the smooth stone walls, where the painted mural of a pale statuesque woman stood, her dress of emerald cloth with a belt of large azuli stones hanging from a gold twined belt. Her dark hair fans around her, in her hand she held a bright torch, in the other a coiled serpent.
Melinoë however was drawn to the matching green clothes that shielded the Witch of the Isles eyes, kept in place by a circlet, over her forehead sat a large stone of amethyst with one bright glittering pupil.
“She's beautiful,” Melinoë sighs, her hand pressed against the cold stone,” This must have been her home.”
“Our home,” Caleb said,” It was a reward for a task I was sent out by Aphrodite. I wanted my sister to be safe away from everyone, where no one could harm her. So I took her here, made the land to be filled with what her heart desires.”
“A noble cause,” Melinoë said warmly,” You loved her dearly.”
Her words however had an effect on the deceased man. The shade's eyes hood, hidden beneath those thick lashes. The moonlight touched his bare feet, its rays slipping through his body.
His eyes drawn tight as he grieves," Never have I regret anything more, than leaving her.”
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"Not a god," his sword is drawn, its edge sliding across the grass, parting the wet earth; distracted Caleb spoke, resentment brooding beneath his mortal flesh," Not a paragon of heroics, just a man who loved a woman. That's what scares gods.”
Love can blind, love can be foolish, but the ever so diligent warrior is reminded of his cause at this moment. The whispers of smoke from the ever burning sticks of incense swept over them, carried by the scent of sun warmed hay mixed with the sweet perfume of the island's flowers. A pleasant scent to the princess of the Underworld, but to Caleb it was a reminder. Something tragic twists between Caleb's eyes, the corner of his lips pressed together as if to silence the whimper bobbing in his throat. Not from sorrow, but from a festering agony born from self hatred and guilt that cannot be hidden. It would force a man to the worst places.
Melinoë felt his pain as if it was her own. Like her, he lost his only family to the hand of another so viciously, their tale ended with death from all sides. In death, Caleb didn't follow the natural cycle of life, nor would he answer the gods demands, he stayed fixated on this island and here he will stay. ‘Unless..’
“Come with me,” She said suddenly, determination flared in her voice,” I promise you, as my honor as the daughter of House of Hades, you will be reunited with your sister.” If not I who could return to mine, then at least this one could.
Compassion she held for a fellow kin. Caleb spares her a glance. “You mean that?” He rises from his spot, his broad body towering over Melinoe. His voice, once vulnerable, had cooled,” The last time a god promised me a favor, it ruined everything. What says you won’t do the same?”
“I won’t,” Melinoe said undeterred by his hostility,” I swear to you, aid us in our fight against Cronos and you will be reunited with your sister.”
She shouldn’t be making promises she may not be able to keep, but with the war, they needed someone like the fabled Earth Bound Caleb on their side. If Hercules had a rival, it would have been him who stood as an equal. Silence settled between them, Caleb made no noise, his eyes dark as he thought over her proposal. By the moonlight, Melinoe felt relief when he gave a sharp nod.
“Understood, I’ll follow for now, but be warned,” his voice frosts over,” the second you betray me, it will not end well for you.”
She did not doubt him.
“Deal, welcome to the Crossroads, Caleb.”
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"Oh," Melinoe sighs, she watched as the witch slipped into the bath, her gaze fixated on her dainty feet. The warm waters of the bath drawing out her words she's been holding in since she first set her gaze upon her. From that mural of her back on that island, to finding this shade hidden away down in the depths of the underworld, Melinoë was curious of the precious sister of the Earth Bound Hero was so obsessed with. "Your feet, they really are as precious as he says."
"Who said that?" The witch looks over her shoulder with a raised brow. "I don't recall ever showing my feet so casually to.....no. Of course, he would." At the corner of her lips, the edge of a smile lifts, softening the harshness from her lovely face. It truly is a beautiful sight, for a moment she is not just a fellow sister in magic, but a woman who is deeply loved by a man who holds her high above his own well being. Perched on a smooth stone, she rests her head back against the bed of flowers that grew near the bath. “He must have told you all sorts of things about me,” The shade laughs, a smoldering chuckle that was just as attractive as the rest of her,” If it's anything embarrassing, don't believe him, if it's anything good then you can.”
Melinoë giggles,”No! Well…maybe something he said perked my interest, but it's been nothing but praises from him.”
“That fool he is,” she sighs, but there was no heat in her words, only fondness in her words,” He’s been waiting for me.”
“Soon now, you'll be reunited again,” Melinoë promised,” I know it's all he ever wanted. It was the only way to even convince him to leave your home.”
Misaki practically launched herself through the frosthiem halls just to arrive at Jin's room exactly on time and not a moment later. Ignoring the endless whispers from the people who saw her and the sneers of those who used to know her.
They mean nothing, they have no pull on you now. The words echoed in her mind like a mantra, all easily pushed aside the moment she met Tohma's piercing gaze. Smiling as he reminded her to not run on slippery hall floors, those cheap sneakers might scuff them. She smiled brighter and simply shook her head. Hand raised to knock enthusiastically on Jin's door - only to meet air. The door has swung open like it knew her arrival, forcing her to blink a couple times before coming into his room.
The air didn't bite her past her uniform, yet was still noticeably more bitter in here before than any time prior. Met by the icy cold eyes of her captain as the door shut dramatically loud in such a spacious room. The cigarette draped from his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed slightly more than usual and ... his bangs seemed a little long.
Before she could greet him, all cheer and niceties, he breathed out that disgusting smoke in her direction, passing her wordlessly as he gestured to the table. A couple coughs forced out of her once poised mouth, staring at the white table, a familiar wooden box sitting on it. Almost jarring how much the brown stood out on the white and blue room.
"I will not be accosted any further."
His voice was sharp, drawing back Misaki's attention to him in an instant.
"I'm sorry they're accosting you, sir."
She marched over like an order, grasping the box in both hands. Old. Sturdy. Somehow still warm in all this bitterness. Maybe it was just the way her palms sweat, her hands feeling immensely clammy all of the sudden. Her vision wavered, trying to take a deep breath to steady her violet vision back into its determination... though that's much harder to do when your throat feels tight. Grasped on by a ghost and squeezed so even air becomes hard to find.
"Kamiya." Jin's voice broke the tremor, commanding her attention. Glancing at him over her shoulder, poised lips taking a long drag of his cigarette, "on with it."
The chair didn't even creak under his weight, sitting down with so little effort he almost fell into it. Throwing his hand towards the door as though he expected her to go already.
Go?
With this? He expected her to take it?
How could she even move with this weight in her hands anchoring her to the ground.
"M... My apologies."
Misaki glanced back at the box, taking in all the details once more... the engravings, her name, the beautiful craftsmanship that her apparent grandfather put into it. Shoving every feeling that came up in her throat like bile back down, she forced her lids shut. Walking forward with slow purposeful steps - only stoping when she bumped into things and readjusting until she felt the winters air of the outdoors.
The balcony. It had to be.
Lifting the box with all her might, feeling her muscles strain beneath her jacket she whipped it harshly forward. Unable to even think clearly until the harsh crack of wood meeting pavement alerted her ears distantly. Blinking a couple times, met with nothing by the sight of Darkwick around her... the sight of kings over their kingdom, she knew she had overstepped and certainly overstayed.
Quickly rushing back to right the things she had bumped into, Misaki offered her captain a familiar award winning smile.
"Thank you Captain!"
"Mm." He waved her off. Not even bothering to lift his head from his palm until he heard the familiar click of the door being closed, quickly accompanied by the steps of Kamiya running in the halls. Again.
Slowly, Jin lifted all his dead weight off the chair, lumbering towards the balcony once more as he blew out a puff of smoke into the cold winter's air.
Unphased by the dance of bills in the wind in front of him.
The Source, no all the reflections, had been saved from the Final Days. Meteion had been stopped, and a song of hope rather than despair sang out across the galaxies. All it had cost her was everything.
The travel through Ultima Thule had slowly claimed everyone. Whisps of wind created by a friend, a bridge of crystal made of her cousin. Not even the young Leveilleur twins had been spared, sacrificing themselves to become light. She'd approached the summit with only her brother, the other half of her at her side. She'd been determined; she would stop this tragedy and save the people left behind on Etheirys, and avenge her friends. Auberon at her back, the two of them were unstoppable.
Then she'd seen what Meteion had become. Had felt the despair emanating out from her, despair fed by millennia of solitude. She couldn't let her brother near this. She clutched Azem's soulstone to her chest and prayed, for if it could summon allies to her surely it could- just this once, keep someone away. If she was a shard of Azem and Azem had been anything like her, surely this would work. As if powered by the desperation of her wishing, wind blew around the two and the now-familiar circle of light appeared under Auberon's feet. His reaction was fast, and he was able to grab onto Amalthea's arm, his expression panicked and pleading.
"Thea, what are you doing?"
"Sending you back, keeping you safe," she gently touched his cheek with the hand he holding onto,
"I can't let you do this. This next part I have to do alone."
Auberon's eyes filled with tears, the two of them mirrors even in their pain,
"You promised before we left, we'd see this through until the end. That you wouldn't leave me behind again. You promised."
Amalthea could feel his grip on her wrist becoming fainter, not because he was letting go but because he was beginning to fade as the crystal's power transported him away. She swallowed several times before she was able to get out any words.
"I know."
They were pitiful, no where near encompassing the depth of the pain she felt, or the betrayal she knew he was feeling. They'd been through so much, side to side, back-to-back, twins who had been entwined with each other since before they were born. They'd faced despots, and devils, seen corners of their world others couldn't even dream of, and this was where it was ending. On a desolate piece of rock and the end of the universe.
"You could die."
The words brought fresh tears, tears Amalthea had long thought had been shed. Living past this had always been questionable, but she'd accepted that.
"I know," she managed to choke out one last time before he was gone. Faded into aether, only sparks in the dynamis disturbing the air where he'd been. She'd done it, she'd sent her brother back to safety and if dynamis truly responded to wishes- he'd stay safe.
Lucifer and Lilith story very resonated me that make me ship them despite no written text that ever mention them being a couple. Hazbin hotel that's when i was very happy seeing Lucifer & Lilith as a couple, while there is some where they are together it's either toxic or abusive or they just friend with benefit. That is also the reason i was into hazbin hotel beside the thing with Lucifer daughter trying to Redeem sinner. So what is the relationship between Lucifer & Lilith
In some stories, Lilith is said to be one of the wives of Samael, the angel of death. A lot of people consider Samael and Lucifer to be the same entity, while others separate them. While I believe that's where the interpretation of Lucifer and Lilith being together comes from, I still consider Lucifer and Samael to be two different beings, despite my liking of them as a couple
Lucifer and Lilith have been together a lot in media before, which is why I sometimes hesitate to have them together as well. I want to try and do something fresh with these characters. That being said, every time I try to imagine anything different, it just doesn't feel totally satisfying lol. The idea of two people who were cast out and punished for their rebellion finding each other and falling in love is so comforting. More on their relationship below the cut!
Keep in mind that their relationship is still in the drafting stages: Lucifer and Lilith require their own spaces, so it's not uncommon for them to be apart for stretches of time. When they reunite, it's like no time has ever passed. Their relationship is fulfilling for both of them. Lucifer never demands her submission. Lilith lives in complete freedom. She wanders Earth and enters Hell as she pleases. He is always a supportive force beside her and never one that hinders her. The fact that Lucifer is always a grounded and reliable presence is what makes Lilith want to give everything she can back to him. Lilith is always checking in on him, even when she's not in Hell. They can spend hours together walking through the woods or sitting beside each other in comfortable silence. Their relationship is by no means perfect. Both of them have a tendency to draw back from each other. Of course, they argue and clash. Time has made them experts on each other, but that doesn't override their own flaws.
The way I think about them a lot can be somewhat compared to the sun and moon. Lilith is the moon and draws power from the night, while Lucifer is the brightest star just before sunrise. They exist in an eternal, harmonious cycle with each other. Not only do they orbit Hell and its principles, but they orbit their son as well.
I've been thinking a lot about my interpretations of Lilith and how she would present herself. She is not just the first woman and the mother of demons, she is the first witch. And while she can and is considered a demon, she walks the earth eternally like a human, like Cain. She is the head of a very ancient coven who is raising the antichrist, Lucifuge. It took much time and blood to bring him into the world, but now that he is here, Lilith is going to ensure this child survives.
he isn't what you'd expect from a demon. or, at least, a demon taking human form. he isn't tall. he isn't strong-looking. there isn't anything inherently menacing about him. but he is still unnerving. maybe it's his perfect posture. maybe it's the way he seems to stay perfectly symmetrical at all times. maybe it's his piercing gaze. it doesn't matter.
his face looks dead, icy, and dark. he looks sophisticated and wise, but he still looks young. he seems tired, but not in a physical sense. in a way where he looks like he's been through hell and back, emotions strained through years of trauma and issues he doesn't seem to care enough about to fix. he is cold. he is weary. he is devoid. he is dead. he is wrecked.
“They tell you not to fear death. That fearing death will allow some evil to win, or it’ll ruin your crossing into the afterlife. But neither are true. The truth lies in that death is inevitable; whether you fear it or not, it will still find you.”
“Hail, my Lords! A new batch of souls is arriving!” A reaper clad in white curtsied to the seven giant thrones before her. “They will need to be re-sorted by your terms, but we’ve done our best to categorize most! Please accept these mortals we’ve brought unto you with open hands!”
“About time,” an arrogant voice boomed.
“Hush now, you’re always so impatient!” Another chastised the first. “Thank you, dear reaper. We will see to it that this is done accordingly. You are dismissed.”
The reaper disappeared in a flurry of white feathers, allowing the room to be all theirs. The Seven Kings of the Veil departed their thrones, making their way towards the collection of souls put before them.
"There's much more than we expected," the King of Greed raised an eyebrow, "are they changing rules again?"
"Mother says they aren't sure what they want yet." The King of Wrath snarked. "They best not ask for them back." He put simply, shaking one of the sinners’ souls in his hand to listen to it scream. He chuckled at the sound.
"Oh, stop terrorizing them," the King of Lust sighed gently, "they're already damned. Don't be rude, Sathanas."
"Shall I terrorize you instead, Asmodeus?" Sathanas threatened.
"Screw off." Asmodeus hissed in return.
"Quiet!" Lucifer threw out his arm between them, shaking a finger. "You two are too loud. I'm trying to perfect my sinners' new forms! Shouldn't you two do the same?"
The siblings looked between one another, before huffing and turning away. Deciding he'd won, Lucifer beamed, "I'm making them in the image of angels, but with my own spin. Just to mock Him!"
"Brilliantly stealing ideas and claiming them intentional," Mammon rolled his eyes. "That's just like you indeed."
"Mammon!" Lucifer gasped. "To accuse me of such a thing! Who's to say yours are any better?!"
"They're original!" Mammon slammed his hands down. "My demons are going to highly surpass yours, just you wait!"
---
As the two brothers began to argue, one of their younger brothers was busy carving into the vessels of his own.
"What are you doing, Beelz?" Belphegor knelt down by his shorter brother. "That looks fun."
"I'm giving them more mouths. To eat more food!" Beelzebub responded cheerfully. "I know Gluttony isn't all food, but it makes them real scary! I want everyone to know they're mine!"
"Scary, huh? Hey, can I make mine scary too?"
"Oh sure!" Beelz nodded. "Ours can be friends!"
Belphegor smiled, "I'd like that."
The end of even the worst lives began anew in the hands of these Seven beasts. Fearing death means you don't know what comes next, but someone has you. Someone is helping you along.
