#v://always hungry; never satisfied//demon au

[creatorofclay]

prev. / prev. / @ruthlessnessisyourdesire​ @rob0badge​

“ Do you see what I’m dealing with here? Having children is just... Something. “ He’s staring straight into the camera as if this were some cheesy sitcom. 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Magenta

(A Spicyhoney ‘The Village’ AU)

Notes: Even more from @cheapbourbon ‘s Village AU and if you haven’t seen this latest picture, pause and go look.

Warning: As a warning, there is some discussion here about the aftermath of an attempted rape and the emotions around it. It is not graphic, but I like to warn.

The story so far:

Crimson

Yellow

Blue

Blush

Sallow

Russet

Spice

Whiteout

Sable

Blue on Black

Midnight

Ebony Falling

Golden

~~*~~

Read ‘Magenta’ on AO3

or

Read More here!

~~*~~

It felt as though someone was watching him.

Though Rus wasn’t quite awake yet, he could feel the weight of eyes on him and he opened his own sockets, sleepy and disoriented, to find a furry face only inches from his own.

With a barely stifled squeak, he scrambled back until he hit the wall of the shelter. Kneeling by the pallet, the pup only cocked his head in confusion even as Rus’s soul hammered at his rib cage. From the side came a low chuff of laughter and Rus turned to see Edge watching them.

He was sitting cross-legged on a mat by the door, his feet tucked under his knees. His attention was on one of Rus’s boots in his hand, smearing some thick sort of grease on them, but his mirth was obvious.

“yes, yes, hilarious,” Rus muttered, shifting back to the pallet warily even as he wondered what in the name of the Angel was Edge doing to his footwear. There was another, closer issue for him to deal with first.

The pup was still staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes, tail slowly wagging. Hesitantly, Rus reached out and scratched behind one floppy ear. Only to have the pup lean impatiently into his hand with a huff. Rus smiled helplessly, reassessing his mental gauge of the pup’s age; he was tall but seemed very young yet.

The memory of him the night before still sent a chill through him. A child, perhaps, but a dangerous one.

But it was easier to set that thought aside when the pup was pushing into his petting fingers, huffing a groan as Rus joined his other hand with the first, scratching vigorously.

Another amused sound made him look over to see the Mother was awake as well, kneeling by that strange, glowing stone. There was a flat rock set atop it, and she was cooking something that looked a bit like eggs, but definitely was not. The father was nowhere in sight and a faint blush heated Rus’s cheekbones as he remembered listening to the two of them coupling the night before. She seemed no worse for the wear from it, bright-eyed and smiling in fact.

Rus left off on his petting despite the pup’s whine of protest, cautiously making his way to the…cooking stone? He couldn’t think of a better name for it. Mother didn’t seem to need any help, not that Rus was much of a cook even with a familiar stove.

There were cups set alongside on a low table, steaming hot, perhaps filled with the same tea Edge had brewed the day before. Rus reached for one absently, only for her to hastily whisk it from his hand, speaking in a scolding tone.

“i’m sorry,” Rus ducked his head fearfully. Of course, his first day here and he was already making a bad impression.

Mother paused, cocking her head thoughtfully. She left her cooking, moving to kneel next to him and her unknown words gentled as she reached out to pat at where his belly would be if he had one, the same way Edge had the week before. Suddenly her reaction made sense; she was making herself a cup of slippery elm tea after her tryst the night before and didn’t want him to drink it by accident if he and Edge were trying for a child.

“ah, thank you, but edge and i won’t be having babies.” She didn’t understand, he remembered dismally. He patted at his belly, mirroring her, only he shook his head.

Perhaps they didn’t share a language, but he could see the understanding and sympathy dawning in her soft eyes. It reminded him of Dogaressa, and tears pricked his sockets. He blinked them away resolutely. No point in crying over home, certainly not only one day away. She touched his shoulder gently and returned to her cooking, though she took a moment to pour out another cup of hot water, adding a few leaves to it before handing it encouragingly to Rus.

A sip found it to be an unfamiliar herb, but sweet, and the pup dashed over with a rush of querulous words, obviously demanding his own. His mother laughed and made another, and the two of them sat close to the warmth of the stone, sipping their cups.

Rus couldn’t help glancing at Edge. It was the second time he’d mentioned there would be no children, was Edge truly all right with that? But Edge seemed unconcerned, focused instead on whatever horrid thing he was doing to Rus’s boots.

Whatever he was greasing them with was waxy-white and smelly, astringent even at this distance. It absorbed readily into the dark leather, leaving behind a glossy shine. When it seemed that no more could be rubbed in, Edge took out a knife and with the tip, began cutting symbols into the leather. They weren’t the same as the ones on his gloves, Rus saw, and he watched curiously as Edge carved them down the length of the boots directly above the sole, on first one and then the other.

When he was done, he set the knife aside and leaned in to breathe against those symbols. They glowed briefly like the ones on his gloves had and Rus forcibly kept his hands in his lap to keep from warding against evil. Edge had mocked him for it before and he didn’t want to insult their hosts.

Edge seemed much satisfied with the results. He leaned over and handed one to Rus. In his hands, it seemed unnaturally warm, the leather more supple and soft against his fingertips.

“how did you do that?” Rus murmured, torn between fear and awe.

Unexpectedly, Edge answered. “Magic.”

Rus resisted the renewed urge to make a warding sign against evil. They spoke often against magic at the prayer meetings, from his earliest memories. A demon’s tool, they said, used by those who were damned without the Angel’s grace.

Difficult as it was, he was learning that Elders were not always right. He remembered Emma telling him about her parent’s blasphemies, and Blue had been trying to encourage him to find a playmate outside the bounds of a marriage he would never have. And there was Elder Smith…no. No, he wasn’t thinking of that.

But the harsh truth was unavoidable. No one he knew was as pious as he’d always believed, so if these people used magic, he’d reserve his judgments and let the Angel herself decide if it were sin.

Not long after Mother handed out dishes to everyone, the not-eggs deliciously warm and filling to Rus’s hungry soul, the door flap thunked open. It was the father returning and he marched directly to his spouse and gave her a kiss thorough enough to make Rus look away in flusterment. She gave him a slap on the rear in return and a bowl of his own, and he ate hungrily, talking to Edge between mouthfuls.

He and Edge conferred for a long moment, their words somehow gruff and lyrical at the same time, and what Rus wouldn’t give to know what they were saying! Finally, Edge nodded and stood, reaching for his boots. He gave Rus a glance and gestured at his own newly treated boots, saying, “Rus and Edge, home.”

“home?” Rus repeated, confused. He looked around the cozy tent, at the hanging herbs that reminded him of his brother’s kitchen and the comfortable pallets. It seemed this was only a resting place for them, after all, and he had to stifle a hint of disappointment. Well, it was no matter, surely Edge had a proper home to go to? Or perhaps not; the thought of traveling and meeting more of his people was exhausting and intriguing at the same time. A little worrying as well; Rus could admit to himself that his health wasn’t really suited to that sort of constant travel.

It couldn’t be helped now, and it would have to be endured.

His feet at least would be warm, for his boots were toasty on his feet. Rus wiggled his toes in delight, sliding on his dark cloak and gloves while Edge gathered up his pack and stepped out.

Before Rus could follow, Mother stepped up to his side with a woven bag in her hands. Hesitantly, Rus accepted it, peeking within to find one of those lovely soft blankets and a bundle of dried leaves that Rus recognized as slippery elm. His brother had almost certainly packed some for him already, but the kindness on her part made him smile tremulously.

“thank you,” Rus said, gratefully. Though she couldn’t understand him, perhaps his tone would be enough.

“Thank you!” she parroted back, happily. Then she swooped in and hugged him firmly. Rus only hesitated a moment before hugging her back, and her embrace was strong, comforting. Like his brother and ah, Blue—

“Rus!” The pup barked happily, tail wagging furiously. Rus drew back and scruffed his ears again, charmed to hear his own name.

“oh, but i don’t know your names!” Rus protested, and he couldn’t readily ask. Next time, Rus told himself fiercely. He was going to work on learning their language and next time he’d not only be able to ask them, he’d be able to thank them for their kindness, because that alone was worth more than the price of a couple of coneys.

Bag in hand, Rus stepped outside, wincing at the chilly air. The sun was still low in the sky, cresting the horizon, and the sky was clear, so at least no storms would be chasing them on their way.

Edge did not wait, gesturing curtly for Rus to follow and he did, though he hesitated at the edge of the clearing to look back. All three of the dog family were watching after them and Rus raised a hand, waving timidly. To his amused delight, the pup waved back energetically, his parents with more reserve. Then he turned back to follow at Edge’s heels, the crimson of his cloak cutting through the whiteness around them.

~~*~~

Today’s travel was markedly different from the day before. To begin with, Rus’s formerly leaky boots seemed proofed well against the cold and not a dribble of slush leaked through the seams. Rus also felt a little better rested today than he had the day before, a world of difference between sleeping curled up in an old tree and on a soft pallet.

It allowed him more curiosity and Rus couldn’t help looking all about them, craning his head to peer around Edge to see if he could guess where they were headed. The answer seemed to be a firm no; he hadn’t the slightest inkling where they were going and despite what had happened, Rus couldn’t help a darkly rueful thought that perhaps it was for the best after all. Certainly, if he’d tried to find his way to Edge’s home on his own, he would have been lost in no time, wandering lost in the woods until he collapsed, never to rise again. Or perhaps something worse.

The woods seemed not as fearful with Edge leading the way and it allowed him to indulge in a bit of interest, looking about them in wonderment. Snow lay heavily on the evergreen trees, and the barren branches of others were coated in ice that glimmered in the rising sun. At one point, Edge paused, setting the pack aside as he crouched, and gestured Rus to step forward.

He came, cautiously, wondering a bit wildly if he was to be shown a trap of some sort, some devilry to be wary of in the wood. Instead, Edge pawed through the thin layer of snow to a patch of green leaves beneath with bright clusters of red berries. Edge plucked a few free, giving the handful to Rus, who ate them carefully.

The berries tasted delightful, like the wintergreen tea his brother sometimes brewed, and Rus crouched down to dust away some of the snow himself, helping Edge pick the berries and stowing them in a small pouch that Edge held out. When the berries were gone, Edge added several generous handfuls of the glossy leaves atop them. Rus tucked the small pouch to his woven bag, nestling it safely against the blanket.

“do you know, i wish i could ask you what these are called,” Rus murmured.

“Teaberries,” Edge replied almost absently, gathering up Rus’s pack once again.

It took him aback. Time and again, Edge was proving that he understood more than Rus thought. “how much of what i say do you understand? it’s only…i wish i knew how much i can talk to you.”

That gave Edge a pause, he hesitated, thinking, then said, “Hearing…good? Speaking hard. Yes,” he said decisively, “Hearing good.”

Rus considered that. “hearing the words is better than trying to speak them, is that it?”

“Better,” Edge agreed. “Rus talk, good.”

“well, that will be a first for me,” Rus said, though his amusement was a touch sour. “someone actually happy to hear me talking.” It wasn’t fair or true, Blue never hushed him and there was Emma. But neither of them were here and it was a relief to think Edge might like to listen to him.

Something Edge seemed to confirm. “Rus happy talking.” And Edge leaned down, stealing a gentle kiss that Rus returned, still shyly despite the fact they were alone. Edge didn’t press for more, only turned away and they walked on.

The sun was high overhead when the flat landscape began rising in rocky hillocks, making it harder to walk. More than once Edge needed to help Rus over an incline or ridge, and he was close to asking for a moment to rest when Edge…vanished. One moment he was no more than ten paces ahead of Rus, approaching another rocky outcropping, and in another he was gone.

“edge?” Rus called, a low thread of panic rising. Was this witchcraft after all, the evil magics the Elder’s spoke of coming?

Before Rus could call again, Edge’s head reappeared, and Rus could only stare dumbly where it seemed to be floating in the air in front of him. He might well have run away with a shriek but the rest of him appeared again quickly, wagging a finger at Rus for him to come closer.

Fear turned to almost embarrassed awe as he crept up. There were two rocky ridges close to each other and their placement made a sort of optical illusion where an outcropping between them hid a small cave entrance. It was covered further with some heavy winter-dry vines in a particularly cunning disguise and from Edge’s smirk, he knew Rus had been quite fooled.

“yes, yes, you’re very clever,” Rus assured him and this time, he granted Edge a small kiss, rising a bit on his toes to press their mouths together.

“Clever,” Edge agreed smugly, then yanked Rus in to smother him with a wet, silly kiss until he squeaked a protest. Rus laughed then, helplessly, as he squirmed easily free. It was going to be all right, he realized suddenly. This was all so terribly new and frankly terrifying, but Edge was not only a strong protector, he could make Rus laugh. They had time to learn each other’s ways, but if nothing else, he knew that Edge’s humor matched his own.

It was going to be all right.

Ducking his head, Rus followed Edge inside to see his new home.

Oh.

Inside, the cave was dark and gloomy with none of the cheer of the Dog home, barely warmer than outside. The ground was only hard stone, no cushiony woven rugs here and the walls too were only bare rock that looked damp in the faint light.

Well, this was…it would be fine. Rus lifted his chin determinedly. They had his pack with the supplies his brother had sent, a blanket at the very least, and some warm clothes. It was a start and just because he was here with only Edge and the cave was chilly and damp, and…and…

“Rus.”

There was something amused in that tone and Rus suspected he had been less than successful in disguising his dismay.

Edge set down Rus’s pack and stepped further inside and as Rus watched, a soft crimson glow rose in his hand. He set that glowing hand on a large stone in the middle of the cave and the light flowed away like water, spiraling outward.

Rus could only gasp, watching with wide sockets as it expanded through the cave walls, lighting up in layers and patterns. Paintings, Rus realized, paintings covered the walls in shades like the colored glass kaleidoscope he’d had as a child and as the light flowed into them, they lit up with luminous brilliance.

Everywhere were sunbursts and flowers, trees sketched with outstretched branches. Between it all were gorgeous spiraling patterns and sharp angular ones, scattered as though blown by the wind. Had Edge done these? They were a bit rough, but it suited the rocky canvas and soon the cave was as bright as day.

“that…that’s so beautiful,” Rus murmured, “beautiful.” He reached out to touch and Edge caught his hand, drawing it away.

“Hot,” he cautioned. He pressed a kiss to Rus’s knuckles and added, “Beautiful Rus.”

“oh, you,” Rus sputtered, flustered but pleased.

He let Edge keep hold of his hand, pulling him deeper into the cave. The light carried through along the walls and already he could feel that damp chill abating. The rock that formed the ceiling was painted with a starry field and it worked as sort of a path, guiding them to other smaller caves within. A peek inside showed him one was filled with supplies much like the Dogs home, herbs and meat hanging and a natural shelf formed of stone held pots and baskets brimming with food stores. Another cave held a large pallet of furs with the threadbare blanket Rus had gifted Edge spread carefully at the foot. That room floor was covered in heavy rugs and there was a low table in the middle that would be perfect for morning tea and breakfast.

Edge didn’t let him take more than a glimpse, leading him deeper, following the starry pathway to a small alcove.

“oh,” Rus breathed, pausing inside to take in the sight. The cave was small and almost completely filled with a pool of water so clear that he could see to the bottom. The pool was luminous, light seemed to come from within and steam rose from it in wisps. It smelled faintly mineral and on a stony ledge was a bar of soap, not the crisp white bars he and his brother made in the autumn, but somewhat lumpy and grey as ashes, along with several cloths.

Without a word, Edge began to strip off his clothing and Rus swallowed hard. After long days of travel, of course, he wanted to bathe, to say nothing of how he was likely still sore from his healed injuries. The hot water would be a blessing after a chilly hike through the snow.

His tunic was pulled over his head before Rus began opening his own buttons, fumbling at his waistcoat, then his shirt. He could do this, he told himself, he could. He’d been bare in front of Edge before, a handful of times now. For goodness sake, he’d coupled with him on the snowy ground. They were married, the shy discomfort settling in his soul was ridiculous.

Still, he lingered on undressing, folding each piece of clothing where back home (no, not home, no longer) he would have tossed them idly aside for his brother to scold him over. All too soon, Rus came to his trousers and he did not allow himself to falter, skimming them off and adding them to the pile.

But Edge’s sharp inhalation made him pause and his expression made Rus falter where his own embarrassment had not. Edge’s jaw tightened as he looked at Rus, teeth grinding, and his gaze was not approving but angry. What…?

Rus looked down at himself. To his horror, there were dark bruises circling his femurs, evidence of other hands upon him. He hadn’t even noticed; the collection of aches he had from so much walking jumbled in, but to any fool it was obvious. Someone other than Edge had touched him, left his foul mark on him and there was no place for Rus to hide from that knowledge.

Fear fluttered in his soul, like a bird beating its wings against his rib cage. Would Edge turn from him now in disgust? He’d seen such a thing before; a husband putting aside his spoiled wife after she’d been caught with another. The gossips had fed on that for weeks, whispers and shaming until the woman hardly dared venture out of her home, not for months and still, that disgrace followed her, despoiled and unforgiven even by the Maker, or so the Elders said.

The Elders, shamed by an Elder himself, and his cruel hands—

"it’s not what you think,” Rus blurted, “it looks terrible, i'm sure, but he didn’t...it wasn't…" The words clotted in his throat, choking him, "i'm not dirty, i swear, i--"

Gentle fingers touched his mouth briefly, silencing him. They were wet, tasting of salt, no, that was his own tears, Rus realized distantly, he was crying.

“Rus,” Edge said, his voice soft with remorse and what did Edge have to regret? Perhaps he didn’t understand, another language barrier between them?

No. He knew, Rus realized tearfully. Oh, he might not know the details, but he had more than the gist of it. And he wasn’t casting Rus away, far from it. Instead, Edge cupped Rus’s jaw in gentle hands, thumbs brushing away tears as he scattered soft kisses over his face.

Rus let out a watery laugh, whispering almost to himself, a threadbare sound, “he didn’t.” He couldn’t help it, he needed to say it, needed for it to be true. “he never did. someone…someone stopped him. i’m not—”

Not dirtied, he wanted to say but his voice broke. Edge hushed him, softly.

"No, no, no," Edge said, quiet but firm. He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as he murmured, "K'uhaha."

Even now, Rus could only smile helplessly. "i don't know what that means."

Edge drew away then, considering. His expression became a thoughtful one and finally he reached out to touch Rus's chest, then his own, tapping softly. "Uhaha."

"chest?” Rus asked, confused.

But Edge shook his head. With a flick of his fingers, that soft glow rose again in Edge’s hand. He rested it over Rus’s sternum, and it seemed to call deeper within him, cradling him in warmth from the inside. Rus swayed, but it withdrew just as quickly, left him faintly bereft.

The answer clicked, a puzzle solved. "oh! um, soul?"

"Soul, yes,” Edge agreed. “Rus, Edge's uhaha, my uhaha. K'uhaha."

My soul.

“oh,” Rus whispered, weakly. Edge had been calling him his soul for weeks now and Rus never guessed.

The bareness that had shamed him before seemed a feeble hindrance and Rus wanted to lean into Edge’s arms, hold him and never let him go. Before he could, Edge frowned, his hand settling more firmly over Rus’s sternum and yes, it was a touch cool to be standing about naked.

At Edge’s urging, Rus slipped into the water, groaning at the heat as he settled to sit on a natural ledge within it. Edge slipped in after him and now Rus could settle into his arms, resting his cheekbone against Edge’s sternum and basking in the heat of the water as he listened to the low thrum of his soul.

“k'uhaha,” Rus whispered, tasting the word. He rather liked the sound of it.

The sound Edge made in return wasn’t a word at all, soft and pleased. He pressed a kiss to the top of Rus’s skull and seemed content to let him nestle against him, asking for nothing more.

It really would be all right, Rus decided sleepily. It would.

It would.

-tbc-

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Where I Tell You:  chapter 7

Dennis is mine. Yuuri examined that thought, more because he hadn’t ever had one like it before. He’d daydreamed for quite some time over having a possession, something or someone that he could toy with in any way that he desired. That was a satisfying concept and one that he saw no reason to turn away from.

But the idea of Dennis also being his in a different way from that sort of possession now prowled its way across his mind and he wasn’t at all certain of what to do with it.

It wasn’t the sort of possessing that came along with chains and bondage and collars. It was the kind of thing that Yuuri suspected he’d seen from other people in Academia. Not very often; it wasn’t really done and those few who forged bonds like that tended to either conceal it from most or brag about it to the heavens. He presumed the latter formed the mindset of ‘this is mine, no one touch it or I will end you’.

That wasn’t such a bad idea when it came to him and Dennis. He wanted to keep Dennis for his wing-tending capabilities, and since there were so few without wings who were as good at it as Dennis was and who were allergic to feathers, he didn’t think anyone else would try to take him. That made Dennis a rare possession and Yuuri enjoyed the idea of owning such a rare possession.

He coasted over the island again, every sort of thought dancing about in his mind. Dennis was his. Dennis was going into enemy territory.

That part he didn’t like too much. He knew Dennis could take care of himself. He’d watched him dueling a few times and Dennis really was good. Not quite as good as he was, of course, but there were so few who were that good, and those who were had very special assignments in this war to be.

He still hadn’t yet seen Dennis doing an XYZ summon, nor had he yet met Dennis’ teacher. He was supposed to do that soon. Having a teacher who’d defected from XYZ made Yuuri a little wary. No, more than a little. There were few people that he’d ever considered trusting and an XYZ traitor wasn’t even close to being on the list. He wanted to meet this ‘Vector’ just to see if there was the slightest chance that he could be deceiving them.

If he is, and I find out about it, I’m going to take him as high as I can go and drop him over open water. And if Vector somehow survived that, Yuuri had several plants that would be happy to devour anything that Yuuri asked them to.

Maybe I should try that first.

That sparked another idea and he circled downward to where Dennis waited for him, seated on one of the benches on top of the building. As soon as he touched down, Dennis got to his feet and came over to check Yuuri’s wings. Yuuri allowed that, but there was something else on his mind.

“Definite much better,” Dennis proclaimed. “Would you like a wing massage tonight?”

Yuuri let the tips of his wings twitch in pleasure. Dennis knew exactly what to say. Or at least what to offer him. But his own idea hadn’t slipped away.

“Yes. But first I’m going to show you something else.” He could not help the smile that flicked across his lips. He’d never shown anyone living what he wanted to show Dennis. “Meet me at my quarters.”

Dennis looked a little surprised, but he said nothing against the order as he headed for the stairs leading down. Yuuri leaped over the side, wings flapping idly to guide him through the air until he reached the greenhouse on the far side of the building.

Dennis hadn’t ever asked about the greenhouse. Most people didn’t. The few who knew it belonged to him didn’t want to know exactly what he grew in there. Those few that Yuuri had shown his treasured garden were the ones who’d never come back out of it.

Yuuri opened all the correct doors and gestured Dennis down the corridor that led to the greenhouse. Dennis stared at the first few plants as he entered, eyes wide and head turning in every direction.

“These are yours?” Dennis murmured, and Yuuri smiled in pride.

“I’ve grown every one of these myself. A few of them I created myself.” Yuuri brushed one hand across a particular treasure of his. To the naked eye it was very simple, something like a slightly larger Venus flytrap. Yuuri looked forward to the day when it would achieve its full size and hoped that it would be as intelligent as he longed for it to be.

At his touch, the flytrap waved long vines, one of them wrapping around his wrist and tugging gently. Yuuri stroked it with the fingers of his other hand.

“I know, you’re hungry,” he cooed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.” He glanced up towards Dennis. “See that refrigerator there?” He indicated it with a tilt of his head. “There’s a roll of meat in there. Get it for me.”

Dennis didn’t quite look as if he were sure about this, but he didn’t argue, going to get the meat. Yuuri petted the flytrap around the head and vines, cooking as the little beauty strained for a passing bug. He would have made certain his lovely creation got the bug, if he didn’t already have dinner waiting for it.

When Dennis brought over the roll of meat, Yuuri carefully started to break off pieces and feed them to his plant. It snapped each piece up quickly, making grateful noises, and Yuuri turned in time to see Dennis staring.

“I didn’t know plants talked,” Dennis said. He looked a mixture of awestruck and terrified. Yuuri thought that the best reaction to his treasure.

“Most plants don’t, at least not in a way humans can hear.” Yuuri stroked the flytrap again, dropping another piece into the eagerly open maw. He wondered if he should tell Dennis exactly where the meat came from.

Maybe not right now. Later, once they knew each other better.

“But this one can.” Dennis didn’t take his eyes off of it. Probably the best idea, even given how small it was now.

“This is one of the ones I designed and grew myself. It doesn’t really talk like you or I do, but it can let me know what it wants. I look forward to it knowing what to call me one day.” Yuuri petted again, unwinding the tendril from him. The flytrap pouted – at least Yuuri thought the way that it curled up its leaves and crossed vines together looked like pouting – and tucked itself down for sleep. “I’ll come visit you later,” he promised. “Here.”

He pulled out the control system for the greenhouse and programmed up one of his favorite soundtracks for his plants to grow to. Each one of them had a sound system set up so they could listen to individualized music and each plant had different preferences. This one rather enjoyed classical music, of all things.

“Now, come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

Yuuri still had over half of the roll of meat left. Almost all of his plants were meat-eaters to one extent or another and he always made sure to have enough to feed them with.

He glanced over his shoulder towards Dennis, frowned, and pushed past him to bring one hand firmly down on the leaf of one large plant trying to get to Dennis. “No!” Yuuri ordered sharply, and the leaf pulled back at his command. His plants learned fast that Yuuri was their lord and master. “Dennis is mine, just like all of you are. You won’t eat him.”

Dennis’s mouth worked for a few seconds, staring from the plant that had somehow crept up on him to Yuuri himself. He swallowed. “Yours?”

That got a grin from Yuuri as he looked back around. “Did you ever think otherwise?”

To Be Continued

Notes: I just had to get Yuuri’s plants and mad scientist botany in there. Ad his possessiveness. And the fact his plants are meat-eaters. Don’t ask what kind of meat. You don’t want to know. Though I’m pretty sure it’s obvious.

Tomorrow is the final chapter.

[creatorofclay]

Is there a masterlist for the demon au?

// My anonymous friend. We all appreciate your enthusiasm, but unfortunately this is still a really tall task to go through. We've got a fair amount of links together, but, my blog alone has the majority of the content on it and there's just so very much to go through. Plus, we haven't really been in the mindset for the au lately, doing other things you know.

I've been having my own issues irl I won't go into. So, I just don't have the energy to sort through everything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ at the very least, I can list everyone who is currently involved in the au

@creatorofclay (me lol) - Elijah Kamski, Chloe RT600

>> Creator of androids and half demon dad

@rob0badge - Demon Greed

>> Twin brother of Lust. Brother of Wrath

>> Sierra- Dorian Grey Demon General to Corvus

@rxseguided - Jesse Stern

>> Mother to the demons, wife to Elijah

@repliicantceo - Eli and Elliot

>> Androids created by Jesse. Eli is married to Connor/Greed

@ajadedflame - Whore Of Babylon

>> An ancient abomination and faithful of Satan

@artofdeviancy - Archangel Michael

>> The archangel that defeated Lucifer

@creation-is-chaos - Lucifer / Satan

>> The King of Hell and God's former favorite

@detroitfortune - Demon Envy

>> Satan's right hand demon

@ruthlessnessisyourdesire - Demon Lust

>> Twin Brother of Greed. Brother of Wrath.

@soulxism - Seraphim Aiden

>> Angelic lover to Lust

@unitedxfront - Demon Wrath

>> Brother to Lust and Greed. Previously the demon of Pride

@untamedxfates - Horseman Of Death

>> The rider manipulating the siege of Heaven

@theyearningtofly - Satan's Bride

>> An antique shop owner who becomes the vessel for the antichrist

[creatorofclay]

What is the kindness gift your sons have gotten you?

Elijah paused a moment, then two.... Three minutes passing before he could answer, " Silence. "

[creatorofclay]

What is your favorite dumb memory with your kids?

" My children are dumb, so any memory is my favorite. "

[creatorofclay]

A gun was aimed at the demon brothers, “Which one is your favorite? The least will die.”

Elijah just shook his head. He stepped closer to the anon and put himself between the gun and his sons. He promised to himself that he wouldn’t let anything happen to them, they deserved to be happy, after everything they had been through. He stared deep into the anons eyes, boring that glare deep, and just lowered his head. He raised his hand to take hold of the gun and moved it up to his head. 

“ I am my own least favorite, “ he said sternly, “ You won’t hurt them. “

[creatorofclay]

I think one of your kids is eating play dough...

“ And? “

[creatorofclay]

How many kids do you have??? You just a baby maker over here??

Elijah raised an eyebrow, " The only one that is biologically mine is Alex, " he corrected the Anon, " The demon brothers were just a package deal some time ago now. "

[creatorofclay]

@ruthlessnessisyourdesire

The symphony of screams and cries was far too loud in his ears, but nothing could be done. There was no way to block them out, no covering his ears or pretending he doesn't hear them. It wouldn't silence them. In fact, he was positive they would only get louder if they knew how much they annoyed him.

Elijah walked, slowly, down the corridor. His left hand dragged along the walls, supporting him as he moved. He knew the walls were hot, but he couldn't tell the stone was cool enough to the touch, but he figured that was just because he could still feel his own power raging. His right arm, that cursed limb that started to look more and more inhuman as the moments passed, hung at his side now. He was back in control, for the moment, but it felt almost as if it would be short lived. It was just lying in wait, waiting to take control back of his mind. He was tired, he needed to rest before the exhaustion made him too vulnerable to the resting power. Not to mention without a guide, he had no idea where these caverns even led. And the last thing he needed was to run into more of Satan's guards just waiting to take a crack at him. No, he couldn't afford to fight and lose control before facing Legion.

As he moved along, he came to a small inlet in the corridor. It seemed to be a dead end, but it was dark enough to keep him hidden from anyone who might wander by. At least unless they were looking for him. With a huff, he sat himself back against the far wall in the dark and let out a sigh.

He kept his cursed hand away from him, as was his habit these days. Not that it mattered with the way the dark had already started to reach up past his shoulder and towards his neck. It just made him more comfortable this way. The light leaking in from the cavern reflected a little off the ring still on that hand. The blue stone nowhere near as bright as it used to be anymore. He couldn't even feel it there, but he couldn't bring himself to take it off. It was the last time he could remember a calm encounter with Caleb. The last time they really spoke... Was less than calm. He closed his eyes and he could almost see it again, that one thing he regrets.

Much earlier.....

The house was quiet with everyone out doing whatever kept them busy. Elijah left the tower early to enjoy the peace of it, taking time to soak in the silence before having to return to a million questions. He walked into his office, dropping his jacket on the desk. His eyes lingered on the darkened skin of his right hand, sticking out from his long sleeved shirt. He could swear it felt like it was almost vibrating, as if just waiting for a chance to jump out and take over. It was intimidating, and almost scary.

Elijah walked out to the living room, taking out his phone to darken the wall of windows so he could see his own reflection. He was curious... Just a little curious. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the side. The dark of his arm faded as it climbed over his elbow, but it was so noticeable. With a deep breath he closed his eyes, focusing his demonic powers outwards. He let his true form come out, but something was off. Though he couldn't feel much in his right arm, he definitely felt it as it seemed to change, twisting and converting. He exhaled sharply before daring to open his eyes. Once he did, he couldn't take back what he saw.

The dark had spread, even without him realizing. It climbed higher to his shoulder now. The fingers on the hand were stretched, grotesquely boney claws, like some monsterous creature. Looking at the reflection of it, he could see it moving, the fingers flexing on their own, ready to strike.

He hated it. This wasn't who he was, it wasn't what he was supposed to be. His heart started to pound harder in his ears as the whispers seemed to peek up again. He could hear them, clear as day on the right side, just as he always had.

" Shhh, " he shook his head slowly, closing his eyes again, " Stop it. Just... " They were progressively getting louder, feeding off of his growing irritation. They reveled in the anger, the flames of his fury sustaining them enough to become louder and louder and louder until not even his own thoughts would come through.

" I said, SHUT UP!! " Elijah balled up his right fist, those sharp claws digging into his palm, and punched it as hard as he could through the window panel. It shattered from the impact and shook the rest of the wall. The energy seemed to disperse as his anger swelled back down, shards of glass sticking out from his hand as it turned to a more human form again. He held it up, staring at it for a long time. What was happening to him?

[creatorofclay]

Lust stared at Elijah for a long moment. The demon had found himself toiling over this. After all the mischief it may seem he is up to something. Normally he is but this time the demon of sin slunk forward with a genuine gift. It was simple really. A gem on a ring. Its sapphire is the same eerie glow that burns in his eyes when using his demonic power. "Father, I - have this. If you wear it on the cursed hand it might slow the darkness."

Elijah knew just when Lust had entered the room, he felt the sudden shift but didn’t look up from his tablet. He’d been reading some article that suddenly he didn’t even remember. All he knew was one of his demon sons was staring at him. He was leaning into his left hand so that his cursed right was the one scrolling on the screen. His sleeve was pulled up all the way so the other four fingers were holding it there. He didn’t like to look at it any more than he liked it any closer to his head. He tried to keep it as far away as he could, even if he knew it didn’t matter. If it was going to creep up, it just would, regardless of what he wanted. 

Feeling Lust’s eyes boring into him was starting to put him on edge. He knew why. It was either some complaint or a trick he wanted to play. It always was. He could feel the anger really starting to boil up to the point that at one point the fingers on his right hand started to slowly flex and stretch their way out of his sleeve. When Lust crept closer, he smacked his left hand down onto the other, looking up at him. 

But... He blinked, surprised as he held out the ring. It wasn’t a trick, he could tell that. He knew Lust wouldn’t joke about this, not when this power could very well cost him his life-- and maybe all of theirs-- if he wasn’t careful. He took the ring, carefully, and slipped it onto his right ring finger. He let out a little breath as there was a sort of cooling feeling washing from the finger and up his arm. It made him shiver, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was almost a relief, numbing to the dark if only for a moment. 

He looked over the ring for a long moment before he finally raised his eyes to Lust’s and nodded a bit, his voice quiet, “ Thank you. “

[creatorofclay]

"They are not dumb!"

" Aren't they, though? "

[creatorofclay]

Gavin paused before he took a sip of his coffee. He gave a hard glare and a frown, “Yeah, sure I knew you went back to our parents. Now stop with the jokes, I’m serious here. I want the truth.”

" It's like you don't listen to a word I say, " he said, shooting his brother a look as he set his mug down, " I'm serious, I'm not joking. I was in a rough spot after college. Summoning the demon was supposed to bring me luck, but all it brought me was a creature more possessive than I am. "

[creatorofclay]

She fumbles with her fingers. "I had my first kiss. I had my first kiss and I'm panicking." Alex paced back and forth. "It was.. I don't even know how to explain it."

" Take a deep breath, Alex, " he held a hand out towards her. He knew just why she must have been freaking out, destined fates as such must be strange to deal with. He wasn't even completely sure what he could say without telling her that.

" Clearly it must have been something special, " he gave a little smile, walking towards her desk to lean against it, folding his arms, " I've not seen you freak out like this over anything else. "

[creatorofclay]

"Dad?... Are you busy?.."

Elijah turned to look at her from where he was reorganizing his bookshelves. He raised an eyebrow, " Never too busy. What do you need? "

[creatorofclay]

"....Sorry dad.." Alex places the cupcake back. "I should just go out and get my own but mom makes the best ones."

Elijah just hummed, smiling as he walked past her to fill his mug with more coffee, “ You could just ask her to make you more, instead of stealing hers, “ he offered, turning back to face her, “ I’d offer to make you some, but I think you’d probably prefer to be able to actually eat them. “