Word Count: 652
Pairing: Logan x Any of the sides
Warning: Fae stuff, mentioned cliff diving, mentioned death.
Summary: Logan just wants to feel something- anything, and when he tries to do something, a tad irrational, he’s stopped.
Drabble under the cut
Note: Italic is Logan speaking, bold is the fae.
“Now what is a human like you, doing so close to a cliff face? I thought you humans were supposed to have a keen sense of danger...”
Logan was surprised, of course, but nothing but a hitch of breath would make that evident. The phrasing was strange, and he was too worried to turn around. He of course had heard the stories of what lay beyond the city walls, but he had been out, even in this forest, with no encounters of any sort.
“I wish to feel-“
“Feel? Oh I thought you had teeny tiny sensors for that...”
A hand slid down his arm, and for a moment he thought he had seen six fingers but....no, must’ve been his imagination. When he blinked there were only five. A shiver crawled up his spine, and his back lent ever so slightly into the form behind him.
“See? You can feel-“
“No not...not that sort of sensory. Feel, I wish to feel the fear, the adrenaline. I’ve read that cliff diving is something that can provide such a thing..”
“Oh? Is that so? Then....why here?”
“It’s the only ledge that comes to mind..”
“But it’s dangerous, have you not noticed what lies below the water?”
“I’ve seen.”
“And you’re not afraid?”
“The fear has come to mind, and I have thought of many possible outcomes..”
The hand on his arm, slid down to gently hold his, fingers entangling, and instinctively he grasped. He took another look down, and saw some of the larger rocks which poked out the water, framing the edge almost like a circle, like a half bullseye. He hummed softly, out stretching his other arm, pointing south.
“Worst case scenario, my body will be carried back to the city, there is an explanatory note in my pocket. Best case, I let the water carry me down and I edge to the shallow water and head home.”
“That’s an awfully large risk, isn’t it?”
“I suppose, but I...”
And his voice softened, gaze falling back down to the water. Another hand was placed on the one not held, but soon it was. He felt a soft pressure on his shoulder.
“You..?”
“I don’t want to go walking around numb again. I just want to feel....something. A life without emotion isn’t quite a life.”
“No, I suppose it’s not.”
“May I continue?”
“No- well, perhaps. I have a proposition for you.”
“And that may be?”
“I promise to make you feel, all sorts of things. Joy, happiness, sadness, love, but..”
“But?”
“You have to promise not to give me your heart, otherwise I’ll take it.”
“Take it?”
“Yes.”
“Well...”
He knew that taking up this proposition was likely not in his best interest. All sorts of creatures thrived off of deals such as this. He gave a soft breath, the hands sliding from his own, finding a new place on his hips. Could it be worse than what he was risking by jumping? Death- he couldn’t think of much worse. A hum left him and he sighed.
“Alright- I’ll take you up on your proposition.”
“Deal?”
A hand slid up from his hips, out to him, which he gently took.
“Deal.”
There was then a giggle, and suddenly he was winded as he was pushed over the edge of the cliff side, feeling himself be pulled back into a chest.
“Now, let’s see if the whole cliff diving thing is true.”
He gave a startled shout before he hit the water, the being holding onto him. They disappeared under the surface of the water, and nothing but a splash and bubbles broke the surface.
The man had failed to notice the broken circle of rocks below, wasn’t broken, but continued on the cliff edge which he had walked into. The proposition hadn’t been necessary, he had already belonged to the being who had created the circle. His heart had already been given.
This was written in a soft, half-awake state inspired by the sweetest logan I know @pendulumtess.
Word count: 735
Pairings: None (Platonic Loceit)
Dusk is such a beautiful time in the mindscape, the sunset almost otherworldly compared to the real world. Hues of whatever palette the Creative Royal deemed to paint the sky that night on a whim, sometimes red and pinks, blues and purples, and at times pride flags of all kinds decorated the clouds of the declining daylight. Stars and moon cycles beyond Romans control completed the look, adding that touch to his work the pompous prince would never hope to achieve himself.
Tonight seemed to be an odd choice for the Regal. Navy and gold dusted the sky, stars littering the soft blanket above as the sun made it retreat to beyond the horizon. Logan couldn’t really bring himself to ponder the Creative Side’s choices, not caring enough if he was being completely honest. Besides, the Navy hues looked quite pleasant from the logicians' place by the window.
Logic was dressed in this normal attire, even in the late evening he was intent on looking crisp and professional. The only key to his more relaxed mood was a telltale mixture of slightly mussed hair, a book in one hand, the other nursing a mug of tea. He was clearly expecting to find himself alone when he opened the shut the front door leading out to the porch, as the brain often ventured out here when he desired the peace of solitude. However, apparently, that was not to be tonight.
The other figure on the porch had turned to face the Logical side with a look of slight surprise and almost embarrassment at being caught. He looked almost odd without his capelet, gloves or bowler hat, grey and yellow shirt on full display for once. In the low light, the serpents scales on his hands and face looked almost otherworldly in the way they shone faintly.
“Deceit. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The logical trait asked a little stiffly, caught off guard himself. Logics hands itched to adjust his tie in his normal maneuver. In an attempt to free his hands so he could fidget in the familiar, comforting way that tick soothes him, Logan approached the edge of the deck where the deceptive side was sitting. Placing himself a distance away from the lair, the nerd placed his belongings down and placed his hands on his blue accessory.
“...I wasn’t watching the fireflies.” Gesturing to the small field and garden outside the Mind Palace, Deception spoke slowly. Fading light shone over the crisp lawn, decorated with Patton's flowers and the now emerging luminous bugs. Almost dancing in the way they flew, the fireflies did provide a captivating level of entertainment the brain could certainly understand. At times he found himself out here, unable to sleep and simply enjoying the company of the bugs.
“Would you mind if I joined you?” Logic asked, taking a sip of his tea. He was watching the liar very carefully, noticing Deceits almost unsure facial expression and slightly defensive body posture. Finally, the lair nodded, turning to reach for his own almost-gone beverage that sat next to the orange tie Logan occasionally saw the serpent carrying around.
Deception and Logic sat in a growing comfortable silence, watching the world around them become darker. An evening chill settled in the darker it became, the ever aware Logician noticing the cold-blooded dark side starting to shiver. “Would you care to get close to me as to warm up and prevent hypothermia, Deceit?” Logic asked, almost without thinking.
The snake looked at Logan with a start, seeming surprised at the offer. With Deceit seeming to hesitate, the brain began to think he misread the social queue or body language. “Or if you aren’t the cold or uncomfortable with that I completely understand-”
Cold was suddenly pressed against the brians side, making him look at the other side in surprise. Deceits head was facing away from Logan, still watching the fireflies dance, but there was clear gratitude in his eyes. “It wasssssn’t getting a little too chilly for me…” The serpent muttered, taking a mere glance at Lo out of the corner of his eye.
It was much later, long after the sun had set, when Patton found the pair on the porch. The much-loved book had remained shut and the tea only half drunk. And it was in the morning Patton would have to wake the pair he had tucked under a blanket many hours ago, as they had seemed to fall asleep huddled together in comfortable, companionable silence.
This was not meant to be analyzed. This is a means to keep my life from an end. Disdain drips easily from pen to paper, but look me in the eyes, and tell me that my soul is wrong.
You would often run red lights. Ignoring the yellow plea to Slow down. So when I spoke With dandelion breath, Your two fingers Smeared with lipstick Streaked with blood, You thought: Go!
Summary: Patton has been Virgil’s best friend since they meet in kindergarten. When he learned that he was his Guardian Angel, it was no surprise to Virgil. The two of them share a home, a business and someday, an altar. He was there for Patton the same way Patton was there for him. They would tear themselves apart for each other.
Things change when a new customer and a demon with old history with Patton arrive.
Heaven and Hell could come knocking, they were ready.
(They really weren’t)
Word Count: 4514
Pairings: Slow burn LAMP, Moxiety, Logicality
Tags: Depictions of Violence, Non-descriptive Beheading and Gore, Implied Manipulation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Slowburn, Domestic Fluff, Jealousy
Notes: OK TAKE TWO HERE WE GO! Co-Written by the fabulous @wisepuma23!!
Chapter 2
“The scones are ready!” Patton called from the back, and Virgil turned around to see Patton walk out, “Delicious and hot.”
“Just like you.” Virgil said with a smile, “The cafe is about to open in thirty minutes.”
Patton leaned over to kiss him. Virgil’s smile grew bigger, then he registered jam on his fiance's lips, “Did you eat some biscuits again?”
Patton giggled, “Maybe.”
Virgil rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning up the counter. He heard the usual noise and bustle of Patton walking around setting up the cafe for the day. The tip jar was emptied last night to prepare for the next day’s customers, decorated with lace and hearts, it was a bit of both of them.
Virgil felt a hand on his hips move him aside. Patton gave him a grateful peck on the cheek as he leaned down to set his scones into the display case. Virgil went to the various tables in the cafe, sunlight streaming in from the windows, and wiped them down with his grey rag. His anxiety spiked at the sight of the dishes they hadn't done last night.
Virgil cleaned them up and put them in the back for later.
Patton went to the door to flip the sign to ‘Open!’ as Virgil made it back to his counter. Now they just had time to kill. Patton looked at him with a blinding smile. Yeah, life was good.
Then he saw a shadow of wings behind Patton. Faint and indistinct. Feathers caught in the glint of the sunlight.
“Are your glasses on?” Virgil asked as he stepped closer and pushed up his glasses.
“Yeah!” Patton said, his accent thickened when he was excited, but it only made him more endearing, “I’ll see to double checking.”
Patton winked.
Virgil let out a light laugh, “I’m not awake yet, Pat. Now did you turn off the stove?”
“Yup!” Patton popped with his lips as he tied his blue apron tighter, “And I set the muffins on the hot plate, the ingredients are stocked, windows are cracked open but not wide enough to become another door. We’re not going to run out of food or beat back thieves who try to steal our delicious cookies!”
Virgil rubbed his hands down his purple apron, “But what if-”
“Honey,” Patton said, putting a hand on his cheek. Virgil leaned into it, “It’s been two years. I think we got it down pat-ton.”
Virgil took in a breath and nodded. He’d known Patton since they met in kindergarten. It wasn’t a huge surprise when Patton told him he was his Guardian Angel when they were nineteen and in love. Patton was already an angel to him. Wings or not. Virgil proposed to him three months ago and he still woke up sometimes scared it wasn’t real. Patton went back to adjusting the display. The glint of his engagement ring caught the light.
“Hey Patton,” Virgil said, he fiddled with his own ring, “Guess what?”
“What?” Patton said as he looked up.
“I love you.” Virgil said, his heart still stuttered in his chest every time he said it, “That’s it.”
Patton broke out into a soft laugh, “I love you too, Virgil.”
It never got old.
The morning was often quiet. They had the regulars shuffle in and get their coffee and biscuits before walking to work. Virgil was in the middle of writing down the order of a lady that looked like she’d rather be home in bed. Grey Earl tea with two sugars. Then he felt it. His throat closed up and his spine prickled. Darkness that clawed at his heart and a smell of sulfur that made his nose tingle.
He fought through the sensation and wrote down the order.
“Is something wrong?” Patton said as he stepped away from their coffee machine, “Virgil?”
“No- Yes- I don’t know.” Virgil said as the customer walked away. He turned to look at Patton and his smile was gone. His eyes were piercing through his glasses and something like understanding flickered through them. Virgil thought he saw wings expand at the edge of his vision. Large and intimidating and -
“Ah,” Patton said, his features had shifted into stone, “I’ll go handle it.” A heavy accent, one that Virgil had never placed despite knowing its celestial origins, coated his words like syrup, “I trust you can look after our shop until I return. Remain here.”
“Pat-” Virgil cut in, he reached out and grabbed his hand, “Be careful, dear. Please.”
Patton softened and looked more like a bubbly cafe owner than a statue that belonged in the Vatican. Virgil didn’t care if his soon to be husband looked like one or the other, he loved them both. Patton held his face in his hands and leaned forward to kiss him. Short and sweet. His hands scratching his scalp and making his nerves sing.
Virgil’s eyes fluttered as the smell of lightning filled his nose. Sharp yet edged with an ancient air that spoke of eons. He made a habit of rolling up his sleeves and today it worked in his favor. The bristles on his arm shivered as soft feathers brushed it. Again faint enough that he could almost believe he imagined it.
“I won’t leave you so soon.” Patton said, words light despite the heavy emotion behind it, “May your morning be filled with miracles.”
Patton went to the back and with a faint rustle of feathers he was gone. Virgil took in another breath and turned to the next customer. A biscuit and coffee combo. He hoped that Patton returned before the inevitable lunch rush. Or at all. Virgil shook his head. He shouldn’t even think it.
The sky darkened as clouds drifted in front of the morning sun. Soon his thoughts was drowned out by the white noise of his cafe. It was their baby and he was going to take care of it. Virgil lost himself in his work but always kept an eye on the clock.
He was going to come back, he always did.
Patton loved the air through his wings as he cut through clouds, eyes locked on the edge of town. The feel of his own Grace from the wards grew as he approached and his sword landed heavy on his hand. He narrowed his eyes. Devils, thank Father. He wasn’t sure how well he’d stand up against a full demon at this point, though he knew it would do nothing to stop him.
His eyes flickered over them, doing a swift headcount. Five.
Holy flames roared to life on his sword and the devils looked up as he landed in the middle of them, hard and fast as he took advantage of their surprise. Iron flooded his nose as he cut through the first devil’s back. Patton whirled on his heel, steel clashing with steel as he parried a knife to his back. A twist and flick of his wrist sent the knife spinning into the distance. Then Patton had to dance back as one of the others pressed forwards.
The darkness of their souls pressed against his Grace and Patton flared his wings and Grace in response. One devil screeched from his holy touch and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. They were weaker ones. New and unaware of how deadly wandering close to this particular town could be. Patton danced, ducking under one attack and lashing out with his foot, sending the other devil flying back.
He saw the devil land as his sword swung up to block her claws. Sparks flew as his Grace clashed with her Corrupted soul. He flinched back as it burned at his cheek. Then he stiffened as his back hit someone else’s. He flipped his sword in his hand and turned it to stab backwards.
He froze.
A deadly mistake in the middle of combat, but Patton couldn’t help himself.
The hair in the corner of his eyes was too familiar, he had missed him too much to control his reaction.
Shoulders slammed back into his. He snapped back into the present and Patton fought back a giddy grin. He felt his tail wrap around his ankle as his sword arched up. The devil’s face fell slack in surprise as his sword’s tip dug into her chest. It caught on her ribs. Blood sprayed, and Patton grit his teeth. The taste of copper heavy on his tongue. He swung again, and beheaded her as she lunged for him again.
He put slight pressure on the shoulder behind him. He forgot his distaste for violence at the neat spin that his friend executed at the silent signal. His sword buried itself into the chest of a stunned devil. Bone and sinew saw the sun.
Patton could almost pretend that it was before the War and nothing had changed.
He grinned. No. Nothing had changed at all.
Patton stood, breathing heavily as he stared at the way the devil crumpled to the ground, and willed himself to turn around. He needed to see it for himself. He needed to know that his greatest dream had come true.
“Phanuel,” the quiet voice was all he needed, and training be damned. The devils could be faking and run him through for all he cared in that moment. He whirled around. Patton’s sword clanged to the ground. Patton pressed his hands to his mouth to hold back a sob as Lahash gave him a hesitant grin.
Patton ran and crashed into the arms that already opened for him. Lahash stumbled back from the sheer force that Phanuel slammed into him. Phanuel buried his head into the demon’s neck, he trembled as those arms wrapped around him for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been eons. He didn’t care that they were tipping backwards, or that Lahash had a tail now, one that was now wrapped around his waist.
Phanuel tangled his hands in the demon's hair and pressed their foreheads together. He grinned wild, bright and free, and Father his chest ached from excitement. Lahash grinned back, his red eyes sparkled in the sun as boney wings brushed against his feathered ones.
“I missed you,” Phanuel whispered, the long years dropping away for a single, clear moment. He felt like a fledgling again. His Grace reached out, brushing against Lahash’s, and the way that the Corrupted Grace reached out in return left him sobbing.
“And I, you,” Lahash said, his voice wavering. Phanuel pressed himself closer as if the closeness could erase the long epochs between them. He bumped his nose against Lahash’s and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at the demon’s face.
“I remembered.” Phanuel’s hands drifted down from Lahash’s hair to his face, fingertips skimming across cheeks and eyelids. Lahash’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch. He leaned into it and Phanuel’s breath caught in his throat, “I thought I’d forget your face. But I didn’t. Father, it’s as gorgeous as I remember.”
Lahash let out a soft laugh, “And you’re as warm as I remember.”
Phanuel flushed and Lahash chuckled again. “Just like a rose in the garden.” Rough hands reached up and cupped Phanuel’s face, his thumbs brushing at the tear tracks on his face. “I wish I had one to give you, to tuck behind your ear so that all could see how it pales in comparison.”
Phanuel reached up to clasp his hands over the ones on his cheeks. Lahash leaned down to bump their foreheads. Phanuel’s little sniffles still hadn't let up. It was clear that he had run of words to say. Lahash’s horns got caught in his halo. Their noses bumped together and their grace twined together.
Phanuel’s emotions choked his throat and made his legs weak. Lahash was here. His body was warm against his own. He felt he could keep crying until he died. The line between happiness and sorrow blurred.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” Phanuel whispered, “You loved me and then you left. Sometimes,” his voice shook, “I thought you died. And I wouldn’t have even known!” His voice jumped into a panicked shrill, “I didn’t hear anything about what happened to you.”
Lahash put a thumb gently over Patton’s lips, “I am here now and that’s all matters. Against all odds and fate, I’m here.” Lahash buried his face into Patton’s cheek, “And I’m not leaving you again.”
Phanuel pressed a kiss against Lahash’s thumb, as soft and light as the feathers along his wings. His face spread into a gentle smile against the tears in his eyes as he whispered, “The first time you told me that was in the gardens. Do you remember?”
“Always,” Lahash said, “You had made us both flower crowns, and refused to let me take mine off. I kept it in my room until our Heavens joined, and we kept them on display by the doorway.”
“The stars above us,” Phanuel added, “A warm breeze making the plants rustle. You kissed me.”
Lahash tugged Phanuel’s palm towards his face and kissed the palm lightly. “And I would continue to do so.”
“You said that you wouldn’t leave me right before you Fell too,” Phanuel said. His mouth snapped shut in surprise, and he looked away. He didn’t want to know how much Lahash regretted his choice, or if he did at all. Phanuel’s shoulders trembled with barely contained hurt and anger.
Then the sound of Rascal Flatts ‘Bless the Broken Road’ broke the moment. Patton reached into his pocket and fumbled with his phone. It lit up with a silly picture of Virgil and Patton in sixth grade on their school field day. Virgil covered in paint and Patton’s baby face covered in glitter, his tongue sticking out. He slid his thumb to answer Virgil’s call.
“Yes, dear?” Patton said, the endearment slipped out, and he winced, “Lunch rush? I’ll be there. What?” Patton felt the heat of Lahash’s fingers leave his own, “I’m fine.” he stepped back and held up a finger, “Trust me, Virgil, I’m fine. It was happy crying. I swear.” Patton broke out into a loud laugh, “Hailey the Coffee Addict arrived again? Oh my father, you can’t be serious. She said that?”
Patton glanced again at Lahash. His expression dark and stormy. Nerves played in his stomach as he realized he was staring at his ring. His engagement ring. Oh boy. He had watched enough human reality TV to know ex-husbands were touchy about these sort of things. He swallowed thickly and wiped at his eyes.
“Honey, honey.” Patton said as he smiled as he heard his fiance's rambles on the other line, “Honey.” then Virgil came finally to a stop, “Go get some of the emergency scones in the back and I’ll be right there. Take some deep breaths. You got this. Promise. Kisses and hugs! Love you.”
He heard Virgil’s shy echo. Patton kissed into phone with obnoxious loud mwahs until he heard Virgil giggle on the other line. He beamed as he heard the answering quieter kisses. His heart felt lighter than a cloud and full of sunshine at the sound. Patton and Virgil went back and forth on who should hang up first. They were ‘gross’ as humans called it.
He hung up, grinning down at his phone.
“Phanuel,” Lahash said, his tone tight as he pointed at his ring, “what is that?”
“It’s an engagement ring!” Phanuel told him, his feet bounced with excitement, oh Father, he had to meet Virgil! He held out his hand closer to Lahash’s face for him to examine it, “It’s a human practice before the date of the marriage ceremony.”
“I...see…” Lahash said, and then he forced a smile, but Phanuel knew him too well and saw the tightness around his eyes, “So you’re getting… married… to this Virgil?”
Patton couldn’t help his dopey grin that crossed his face at the reminder, “Yes! All we need to do is decide on the date and we’re official! Or well, more official I guess, seeing as our relationship started-” He paused in counting on his fingers, thinking back to being just out of high school and the look on Virgil’s face when they finally talked things out.
He met Lahash’s eyes and bit down on his tongue. The demon tried to mask it, but Phanuel had spent too long loving him to miss the swirling emotions ― anger, jealousy, and utter heartache ― in Lahash’s eyes. He reached out and brushed his fingers over Lahash’s wrist. Then Patton reached into his pocket and tugged out one of his business cards, and pressed it into Lahash’s palm.
“I need to go,” he said, “But please, we need to talk. Come by, Lash, please.” It was a low blow, using the old nickname, and Phanuel’s stomach lurched at the action. But he needed the demon to come back to him, and he was willing to do what it took for that to happen. He rather not use his renowned ‘tricks’ to do it but he would.
Lahash’s fingers curled slowly around the card as the demon’s wings started to softly glow. Phanuel blinked in surprise while Lahash let out a loud groan. His wings fluttered as if it wanted to take off at this very moment.
“I’m afraid that I need to go, too.” Lahash said, he tucked the card into his front pocket, “A foolish human is calling me back to his abode. He told me that he had accidentally summoned me from the depths of Hell. No doubt he wants me to follow his petty whims.” Lahash let slip a cruel smile, “The taste of his soul will be sweet, deal or not, I will enjoy tearing him apart for wasting my time.”
Phanuel stared at him. He didn’t know why the words out of Lahash’s mouth surprised him. He knew that cruelty and hatred for humankind was par for course for any denizen of Hell. Lahash had Fallen because he too felt humanity didn’t deserve any of Father’s love. Phanuel could see it clear as day in Lahash’s eyes and grace that he meant it.
Phanuel rubbed his arms as Lahash shuffled in place. His wings bright with the urgency of the call yet he ignored it. Phanuel shut his eyes and grit his teeth against his nerves. He reached out and took Lahash’s hand into his own. He felt Lahash’s surprise and then his gentle squeeze.
Neither of them wanted to leave.
“I have to-”
“Of course and I’ll-”
“Farewell-” Phanuel stumbled over his words, “No! See you later. This is a see you later. Father, I hope so.”
“See you later, Phanny.” Lahash said, but he still hadn’t let go. His grip tight enough to almost risk his claws tearing his palm open. Phanuel wouldn’t mind. More tears threatened to spill out. He couldn’t let Lahash leave him like this. Phanuel needed to make him stay.
“Lash,” Phanuel said, and felt hot shame prickle up his neck as he pulled Lahash’s hand and bent down to kiss it. Lips ghosting over his knuckles. His heart fluttered with happiness at this intimate gesture they shared for the first time in millions of years. He could hear Lahash’s hitch in his breath. Phanuel spread his wings and peered up at Lahash through his lashes. A tried and true method for any angel. Lahash’s cheeks flushed red at the intimate display.
“I would be very pleased, if you came to see me.” Phanuel purred, a mixture of sultry and genuine plea, “Come and stay with me, darling.”
“I believe you meant to say ‘dove’ instead of darling.” Lahash muffled his giggle, “Darling? You’ve spent too much time with humanity to have forgotten our old pet names. Even if I no longer have dove wings.”
Phanuel nipped at his knuckles, and let a coy smile play on his face, “My dove, come and see me. I’ve missed you so much. Why don’t you come by and let me show you how grateful I would be to see you. I know how curious you can be,” Phanuel let his tongue tease feather light on his knuckles, “Satisfy your cravings.”
Lahash tore out his hand out from his grip.
“Phanuel.” Lahash said, his voice thick and he cleared his throat, “I will come by your coffee shop.” Phanuel stood up straight and he could read the hidden lust in his ex-husband’s eyes, hook line and sinker, it worked. His wings preened with pride and happiness. He hated that he had fall back on his old ‘tricks’ because he couldn’t trust Lahash to come by himself. Or at least not without an implied reward.
“Great!” Phanuel beamed, “See you later, Lahash!”
Then he took off into the sky. Phanuel flew back to the cafe and the fiance that waited for him. He was going to have to cook some of his best sweets if-when Lahash comes by later today. Phanuel was going to shove cupcakes into Lahash’s mouth until Lahash forgets to ask for something else on his lips. It was going to work. Phanuel suspected that Lahash hadn’t changed at all in all of the time they had been apart.
Good.
The same couldn’t be said for Phanuel. He tried to forget that fact as he appeared in the back of the cafe. Virgil startled with a yelp in the middle of icing some sugar cookies as Patton came up behind him and hugged him. Virgil’s giggles echoed in his ears as Patton kissed the powdered sugar off his cheeks.
But for now, that was enough.
That was awfully strange of Phanuel.
Lahash felt another tug on his corrupted Grace and he rolled his eyes. How could he forget? A human wanted him at beck and call. His earlier train of thought lay forgotten.
Lahash snapped open his wings and flew back to fulfill his human’s call. He appeared in a dirty apartment that reeked of a typical man living alone. Just from the smell he knew dishes in the sink hadn’t been maintained as properly as they should’ve. His eyes landed on the human who summoned him. The human wore a shirt that had a picture of an incredibly inaccurate portrayal of a princess with dark pajama pants, and Lahash refrained from rolling his eyes at it.
Lahash cleared his throat.
The human yelped and the sound of a knife clattered to the floor. Lahash sighed, striding further into the man’s home. He eyed the couch, claimed by pizza boxes, and decided to stand instead. Humans were disgusting. Fluids upon fluids. Their short lives that only lusted for fame and glory, things that didn’t really matter in the end.
“Where were you?” the human said as he stood up, his finger made a hard jab into his chest, “I asked you to stay put! I still don’t know how I summoned you and I had to go get some more books. Do you know how hard it is to sneak books from Ma?”
“First, you asked me, you didn’t command me.” Lahash said, as he adjusted his glasses. He was tempted to take off his glamor but not this early, “Second, I was greeting an old friend I haven’t seen in eons. So pardon me for having a social life while-” Lahash looked around with an eyebrow raise, “-you do not.”
“You’re a demon, how do you have friends?” the human said, “And how dare you. I do have a social life! I’m the life of the party.”
“Yikes.” Lahash said, “I am very old, older than you can even comprehend, and I know the look of a man who eats pizza alone at 3 AM.”
“....You got me there, Horny Boy.”
“That’s not my name and if you think that it is then you have more problems than your lack of fresh food in your refrigerator.” Lahash said, “And on the subject of names, forgive me for not asking earlier, but what is yours?”
The human froze and his words stumbled out of his mouth. Lahash could see his soul shake in his chest with nerves. It was only a name, unless, this human knew the power of names. Lahash peered closer into his soul and he could see sparks fly as the soul grew more nervous. Magic. Of course, a witch, however he didn’t expect a witch to become….Lahash looked around the apartment again….like this while he was in Hell for a century.
He shouldn’t feel disappointment when his expectations were already so low. Maybe that was his problem, he shouldn’t have any. Even the skulls that rested on various shelves were fake and reeked of plastic. Where was the blood and grim? The magic that made the walls smell of rot instead of old pizza.
“My name is…” the human swallowed, “My name is Prince.”
“Pardon me while I laugh,” Lahash tilted his head back, “...ha.” he snapped back to glare at the human--Prince, “That is not your name. I refuse to believe it.”
“Well believe it.” Prince said as he leaned on a book stack then yelped as it fell under his weight, and he fell to the floor with a sad thump, “.....I need coffee.”
Lahash squatted down next to Prince, eyes boring into his, “You just summoned a being that remembers the Beginning and you want to go get coffee? I do not need to shackled to petty little human whims when there is--” a war on the horizon, he finished in his mind, “Dismiss me before you piss me off.”
“It’s too early for this, Penta-grandpa.” Prince stood up and went into his room to change. Lahash crossed his arms as he waited. Prince came back out in a red jacket, jeans, and a shirt with a giant rainbow on it, each color bright. A flash of memory came to him, of a small Phanuel telling him that he loved rainbows, and Lahash let his cold black heart soften. It’s been so long since he thought of his childhood without the urge to maim someone.
“Oh no.”
Lahash startled at the terrified tone, his grace immediately swept for danger, “Did something trouble you?”
“You’re smiling.” Prince said horrified, “Okay that’s it. I’m not leaving you alone, not when you’re thinking of something evil, or whatever that makes demons happy. I don’t know, like putting forks into my toilet and make my landlord angry.”
“Why would I put--”
“I’m getting you some coffee and you’re going to give me your company.” Prince said as he opened the door, “Got it, Lahash?”
Something clicked between them. Lahash groaned and rubbed his forehead. Such poor wording. He must be new, but not only that, bad at being a witch. Prince rubbed his chest and looked at him. Confusion etched into his chiseled face. His soul must be feeling the weight of what had just transpired.
“Congratulations.” Lahash said with a forced cheeriness, “You have got yourself a deal.”
