#give me guarded Azris

[chunkypossum]

HELLLOOOO?!? My pitiful heart is in shambles

This is why I love them. Every interpretation I see of them I’m like… yeah that’s it. That feels right. It’s perfect.

But “I’ll be the one to kill you teach me how to do it slowly?” HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THE GODS IM A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR.

sometimes I think about how azriel and eris say “I love you”. And I know, they’re more of a lets-fuck-to-emote couple, but in their quiet moments, how do assure each other that the love they share is real with its own heartbeat? Especially verbally. Then I think about how poetic mr “If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” vanserra is and wonder, is that a lucien thing or a vanserra thing.

because then I think, eris does not say love- no, love is something used to hurt him, hurt his brothers (jesminda), his mother. he’s a courtier, a silver tongued fox with clipped claws which scratch but do not scar. thus eris turns to the metaphor, the euphemism for a heart robbed, the flooding blood and aching to fill its empty space.

he says, “my dear shadowsinger”. he says “the moon is beautiful tonight”. he says, “I saw an elderly fae couple and thought of you”. he says, “I do not mind the darkness, my flames are only brighter because of it”. he says, “the bed is cold without you. it is too big”. he says, “take off your armour. yes, i’ll keep it safe in the drawers. yes, I’ll learn the fastens and straps to help you put it on every morning”. he says, “my dance card only has one name. well, two because you’ve asked me to be kind to your family. yes, i’m picking nesta again.” he says, “I love the ocean. let’s go” he says “my dearest shadowsinger, i do not love you. I will not hurt you with such indignity, such injury-“

to which azriel says, “fuck you”. he says “I say ‘I love you’ because I’ve never been able to say so freely before”. he says, “do I scare you with this heart of mine? So many others have turned me away.” he says, “do not turn away from me, I can’t take it”. he says, “do not turn away from me, let me see you.”. he says, “do I scare you eris vanserra? let me tell you how you scare me”. he says, “here is why I love you”. he says, “eris, I wish you a painless death”. he says “vanserra, i’ll be the one to kill you. teach me how to do it slowly.” he says, “I love you, I don’t know what to do with myself now that I’ve told you.” he begs, “eris vanserra, keep this our secret- how much I devastatingly love you. don’t let them know.”

“I think they know,” Eris will say and then, “let’s go to the ocean.”

[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're delighted to highlight @jules-writes-stories 🧡

If you're looking for a truly exceptional Azris fic, you have to check out Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. The writing is absolutely beautiful, and it strikes the perfect balance between hurt and comfort. Every detail feels so carefully crafted, from the portrayal of Eris and Azriel to each moment they share. 😭

Also if you are into myth retellings, we are begging you to read this Azris flavored Hades and Persephone retelling that she wrote for Azris week this year. 👀

And be sure to check out allll the fics on her masterlist!

Read on to learn what drew Jules to Eris and what the hounds would say if given buttons. 🐶

Give us a name for one of Eris's brothers!

Sylvan Vanserra is the youngest Vanserra (other than Lucien). He’s quick to laugh, never takes himself too seriously, and readers have called him a cinnamon roll, which is fair. Eris tried to shelter him and Lucien, so he’s less guarded than the other brothers, but don’t sleep on Syl. He definitely has fire in his blood.

Give us a name of his hounds!

Chunky Possum. But let me explain, lol. When I was drafting Just Enough Light, I named Eris’s hounds after (just a few) of my favorite Azris writers. They were meant to be place markers while I thought of original names. But the hounds liked their names, so I left them, and gave some of them back stories. Naming the hounds became a way to show my appreciation for a corner of the fandom that is dear to me. My favorite is Chunky, only because of his backstory. And yes, it will tug at your heartstrings. 

What do you think it was like trying to raise Eris when he was a child? 

Short answer: he was a little fire starter with a smart mouth. Being so brilliant, the fireling likely found ways around doing what he was told and bent the rules to suit his needs. Eris asked questions that stumped his teachers (sometimes on purpose and other times because he was clever and curious). He was full of mischief and a prankster. That said, he was probably under constant pressure to perform, making him highly competitive. I could see little Eris as being lonely, learning at a young age that attachments are liabilities and love must be earned through accolades. 

What drew you to Eris? 

I love monsters and for me, Eris Vanserra is one of the metaphorical monsters of this fandom. He’s both a scapegoat and a martyr. He’s sexy and fetishized: put on a pedestal as often as he's reviled and burned at the stake. I love how Eris can possess all these contradictions and still exist as a character with traits we all universally recognize. He’s interesting and I’m always left wanting to know more. 

Who do you think Eris would want in his inner circle, if he was given a chance to build one?

Lucien. His favorite brother is a clever fox with ties all over Prythian and I want (need) them to be close with an urgency that’s not normal. Nesta Archeron. Eris is canonically drawn to her power and who wouldn’t want Lady Death to have their back? Bonus for Eris: it would piss Cassian off. Lastly, nothing would bring Eris more joy than stealing Azriel from Rhys...for so many reasons. 

If Eris gave his dogs buttons to communicate, what would their options be?

If one wants Eris’s respect, they’ll have to earn it. And one way to do this is through his hounds because they are excellent judges of character. Eris believes that his smokehounds are likely more intelligent than most of the brutes he’s forced to associate with. No, he prefers not to give names– very demure, very mindful.  After meeting someone, the magical canines communicate their first impressions of said individual by pawing at certain buttons with ratings spanning from “burn them alive” to “lukewarm, might burn later” to  “that’s your cauldron blessed mate.” I wonder what the hounds would say about us… 

[ofduskanddreams]

This Lovely Enigma

For @catboyjamesbond. The prompt: Royalty AU Azris, Eris is king and needs a consort. Azriel is the one who catches his eye.

Azris ✦ Rated M ✦ 2.5k words (yeah ik) ✦ on AO3

"The Ruler shall take a consort within a year of their coronation lest they forfeit the title to the Heir. The Crown is too heavy a burden to bear alone." 

Eris knows that particular stipulation so well that he sees it in his dreams and behind his eyelids whenever he blinks. 

His crown hits the ornately carved walnut throne with a dull thud as Eris looks to the paned glass dome of the ceiling above the dais in the empty throne room and groans. 

A wry laugh echoes from his left, “Ah, let me guess: woe is me, I am but a king facing the truly arduous task of choosing a partner from a selection of the most competent and beautiful of my subjects.”

Callan has been Eris’s most loyal guard for nearly a decade. Eris would never allow such flippant sarcasm in public or from any other member of his staff, but Callan is the closest thing he has to a friend, not counting Eris’s brothers.

“I just don’t understand why my ancestors felt that such a useless clause would be one of the few immovable laws. Why do I need a consort in order to keep the title that is rightfully mine? I’ve been perfectly fine on my own so far,” Eris allows a granule of petulance to lace his words.

Cal just smiles and softly shakes his head. It’s unsettling to witness because that gesture is identical to one his mother often makes. 

“There’s nothing that can be done to change it, you know that. It’s been six months since your father’s passing—stars smile gently on his soul even though he was a right bastard—and now that the mourning period is coming to a close you know you can’t afford to waste another minute. This way you are giving yourself a little time to get to know them at least.”

“If I meet them today,” Eris points out, tracing the vines carved into the throne’s arm with a ringed finger. 

Knowing it’s better to voice his feelings than quash them, Eris sighs and begrudgingly continues the thought, “What if I can’t stand any of the people I meet today? Aren’t they all the children of the gentry? I don’t care about liking them, but I need to be able to tolerate them. You know how I hate sycophants, and that’s all they’re going to be—hoping that they can woo their way into the royal family and a better title.”

“Defeatism does not suit you, dear.” Serafina Vanserra, the Queen Mother, approaches the throne at an elegant glide.

Eris rises and descends the three steps of the dais. “And black did not suit you, Mother. It’s wonderful to see you in color again.” 

She’s donned a wine-red gown for the occasion, the rich color making her fair skin appear lit from within. The black they’d been wearing always made her look sickly pale. This, Eris thinks, is a very welcome change. 

Her lightly painted lips tug up in a smirk. “Flattery, while always welcome, will not divert my attention, Eris. Try having a little more faith in humanity. Giving up before the race has begun is the quickest way to ensure defeat.”

“I know,” Eris agrees. She’s right, of course, she is. He knows that he frequently walks the line between realism and pessimism and, while such an attitude guarantees that he is always prepared for worst-case scenarios and puts secondary measures in place for every plan, it is not an ideal outlook for the day ahead of him.

His mother raises a brow, waiting. 

“I promise to try,” Eris tells her. “I wouldn’t have bothered setting up this whole affair if I did not intend to make an attempt. It would have been far more efficient to simply select a name from a list but, believe it or not, my heart is not made of stone.”

“I know that, darling.” Her hand is soft and warm, the touch to his cheek a brief allowance of the affection that they’d been denied for so many years. “But it’s my hope that you will permit others to learn this as well.”

The ‘now that he’s gone’ hangs unspoken in the air between them.

“I hope so too,” Eris replies. It’s the best he can do while remaining honest. 

Hope, an ember banked for years upon years has, against every odd, retained its glow. Eris might even go as far as to say that, since his father’s death, the ember has sparked a flame.

 ✦ ✦ ✦

Azriel tries his best to hold still while his mother fusses with his jacket collar, but he’s restless.

“There,” Zahra smiles proudly as she steps to the side so he can view his reflection in the long mirror.

He scarcely recognizes the man staring back at him. His typically unruly hair is swept back off his forehead and tamed by something that smells faintly sweet. The clothes he’s wearing are finer than anything he’s owned before. The jacket is sapphire blue, laced up the back in gold—the same gold laces that begin at his wrists and end at his forearms. 

He’d thought the process of donning the garment ridiculously complicated, but Azriel can’t help thinking that the effect might be worth the effort. He looks… elegant? Everything is tighter than he’s used to. The jacket clings to the curve of his waist, and the breadth of his shoulders. The trousers are impossibly soft and fit like a second skin. His boots are supple black leather and buffed to a shine. 

It’s not just the clothes though. What really makes his reflection so foreign is the tint on his lips and cheeks, making it appear like he’s slightly flushed; it’s the hint of kohl smudged into his lashes and bringing a new brightness to his eyes. 

“My beautiful boy, my Azriel. Look at you,” his mother murmurs and the rosiness of his cheeks darkens at the sheer pride in her voice. 

“Thank you,” for this, for everything. The emotional rasp of his words embarrasses him.

It’s a public secret that Azriel is Lord Blackwell’s bastard despite his father’s begrudging formal claim. He’s certain that, had the decision been left to his father alone, he would have turned them out on the street. It had only been his paternal grandmother, to whom his mother was and is chief caregiver, threatening to change her will and cut him off that made the lord claim Azriel as his own. 

Sometimes, less often now than when he was young, Azriel wonders if life may have been better had they been forced to fend for themselves. It’s a notion he quickly shakes off. Who’s to say what could have happened? It was pointless to dwell upon.

“I’ve raised you for this, there’s no need to be anxious.” She takes his fidgeting hands in her own, thumbs tracing arcs over the pale web of scars. 

“I know,” Azriel assures her, dropping her hands with a squeeze to pull on his gloves. Knowing that he is thoroughly prepared has no effect on how he feels though. 

Only a fool wouldn’t be nervous before being presented as a potential consort to the king.

Azriel has caught glimpses of the then-prince now-king over the years, but there’s one memory that stands above all the rest: 

He was five and hiding from his brothers. Azriel had wandered into the stable as he often did and climbed the rickety ladder into the hayloft. 

Unlike all those previous afternoons spent up there, however, the hayloft was already occupied. A red-haired boy was sitting on his heels on the far side, his hand outstretched to something in the hay.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked as he approached. 

The boy startled, his honey-colored eyes narrowing at Azriel. “Who are you?”

“My name is Azriel. Who are you?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?”

The boy had laughed then and beckoned him over to come see. 

One of the barn cats had given birth to a litter of kittens. Azriel forgot all about his brothers as they passed the afternoon watching the kittens stumble around each other as their mother took turns licking them down.

It was only after the boy left that Azriel realized he’d never been told his name. 

The next time he saw the boy, a few months later, he was crossing the west courtyard with his mother. 

“Bow!” She hissed at him, dropping into a graceful curtsey as the boy and two guards walked past them. Azriel bent at the waist, waiting for his mother to rise before straightening his spine.

“Who was that, Mother?”

She looked at him, astonished. “That was Prince Eris. One day he will be our king.”

“Oh.”

It’s childish but, as Azriel makes his way down to the carriage his grandmother has arranged to take him to the palace, he can’t help wondering if Eris will remember him. If, maybe, he will look at Azriel and be reminded of golden dust motes and the sweet smell of hay just as Azriel is whenever he sees the king. 

He chides himself for being foolish as the carriage trundles through the city streets. He cannot afford to let something as asinine as sentiment distract him. This is his only opportunity to secure a better life for his mother, and he refuses to jeopardize it because of one afternoon a lifetime ago, even if that afternoon is one of the best he’s ever had.

✦ ✦ ✦

Eris smiles politely as the next prospect is introduced. The firstborn of Lord Arminta has an education overseen by a herd of tutors and an admittedly impressive number of instruments they play proficiently. They’re beautiful in the way a painting is beautiful—attention grabbing and pleasing to the eye—but Eris carries out a brief conversation with them as he has with everyone else who has been escorted through the throne room doors and feels nothing. 

As they go to join the other dozen prospects already milling about the refreshment tables, Eris leans over to ask his mother, “How many more are there?”

“You’re about halfway through.”

Eris swallows his groan, kings aren’t allowed. Callan’s posted by the doors and Eris looks at him with a subtle nod, signifying that he should send the next one in.

A hush falls over the room as the doors swing open to reveal what may just be the most striking person Eris has ever seen. Familiarity nags at him but he can’t recall why.

“Azriel Blackwell, he is the son of Lord Blackwell,” his mother supplies as she’s done for all the others. 

Azriel.

Azriel.

Somehow he knows that name, but he’s too distracted by the sight of his present to wonder about the past. Sharp hazel eyes watch him from a face that would not have been out of place on one of the statues in the sculpture gallery. This is a man who has been crafted by a mastered and magnanimous hand. His clothes are well-tailored, hinting at the power of lean muscles and showcasing elegantly proportioned limbs. 

The way he moves, grace belying strength, reminds Eris of a mountain lion, and yet those lovely eyes betray him. He’s not as confident as he is pretending to be, but Eris can hardly fault him for that. 

Before the thought is fully formed, Eris stands as Azriel stops before the dais. He’s remained seated for the others but something is urging him to go to him so he does. 

Azriel’s eyes widen before they drop to the floor, and he quickly folds into a bow. 

Eris doesn’t stop until he’s only an arm’s length away. “Rise,” he bids. His voice is softer than intended.

Azriel does, but his eyes remain fixed on Eris’s boots. Eris is only an inch or two taller than him which is a nice change. 

“Have we met before?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Once, when we were children.” Azriel’s voice is rich and smooth, and Eris grins a little because he finds it pleasing. 

“Azriel,” Eris ponders aloud. It’s a beautiful name, unusual too. So why can’t he… “Kittens in the hayloft.”

Finally, Azriel looks up at him and there’s a questioning intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill up Eris’s spine. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Eris’s smile widens, and he dares to hope it’s that expression which causes a soft grin to spread on Azriel’s face. 

“By the stars,” Eris muses, scarcely resisting the urge to trace the curve of Azriel’s lower lip with his thumb, to press and see if that mouth would open to him.

“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” Azriel inquires carefully.

“Far from it.” It’s just that his memory of a small scrawny boy with dirt on his forehead and a scraped knee poking through a hole in his trousers is difficult to reconcile with the person who stands before him now. “You’re rather exquisite, you know.”

This time, Eris allows himself an indulgence. He brushes a dark curl off Azriel’s forehead where it had fallen out of place with his bow.

Whether Azriel’s beautiful blush is the result of the compliment or Eris’s touch, Eris doesn’t care—either is a delightful prospect. 

“Your Majesty is too kind,” Azriel says, dipping his head as if it will conceal the color on his golden brown cheeks. 

“I assure you I am no such thing,” Eris huffs a laugh. “But if you fear my words are contrived, allow me to press upon you the sincerity of my confession over tea?”

“Tea, Your Majesty?” Azriel looks confused and Eris thinks it’s rather adorable.

“Yes.” Eris glances over his shoulder, giving his mother a pointed look which is met with a pleased grin. “I’m very curious to learn more about you, Azriel. If you’ll do me the honor of joining me?” On impulse, Eris holds out his hand. 

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty. I find myself plagued by a similar curiosity.” There’s a hint of a smirk in Azriel’s polite smile, an edge of something that Eris cannot wait to unearth. 

Azriel takes his hand but, to Eris’s dismay, he’s wearing gloves. That won’t do. Eris needs this man’s skin beneath his fingers. He takes Azriel’s wrist in one hand and tugs off the glove with the other, bowing to press a lingering kiss to his scarred knuckles. 

Eris’s thumb trails over the ridges and divots. When he glances up at Azriel, he’s surprised to see the man’s eyes wide in horror. That won’t do either. 

Of course, Eris had anticipated that he’d worn the gloves for a reason, but he didn’t care about how the scars felt though he was curious to know how they got there and knew he wouldn’t like the eventual answer.

Holding Azriel’s gaze, Eris lifts his hand to his lips this time. “Beautiful,” he says, then kisses the word into the scarred skin. 

Azriel inhales sharply; the sound wavering a little even as the tense set of his shoulders vanishes.

Not yet willing to release this lovely enigma named Azriel, Eris tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow. “Shall we get that tea, then?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Azriel says, fingers flexing on Eris’s arm.

Oh yes, I intend to be.

“The pleasure,” Eris lets some of the hunger stirring in his gut fill his gaze, “is all mine, Azriel.”

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @ablogofsapphicpanic @iftheshoef1tz @panicatthenightcourt @moonpatroclus @the-lonelybarricade @krem-does-stuff @octobers-veryown @foundress0fnothing @melonsfantasyworld @fieldofdaisiies @lady-riel @queercontrarian @valkyrieassassin @brokeneveningstars @areyoudreaminof @itsthedoodle @xtaketwox @talons-and-teeth @thelovelymadone

[icey--stars]

Ashes Under an Unmarked Grave

Part two of my AzrisWeek2023 fic: You Cuddled Me (series: "i want to break these bones 'till they're better") where we get to see yet another way Beron can be killed ruthlessly.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Day 5 of @erisweek2023 (Dancing / Blood Duel)

a/n: it’s azris again. sue me. I love the ship too much but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. Behold once again, the death of Beron. because we all hate that guy lmao

WARNINGS: Mentions of NSFW topics (no explicit sex scenes), mentions domestic abuse and contains graphic depictions of violence.

{ ao3 } "i want to break these bones 'till they're better" series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

“What?” Beron hissed.

Eris smirked at his father’s surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t expected the challenge to happen now. So he repeated himself: “I enact the Blood Duel for the crown and title of High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Azriel, he knew, was hiding in the shadows near the entrance. That damned male had been so smug since that night.

Beron’s face soured even further and he glared at Eris. But the rules of a Blood Duel were clear:

Once enacted, neither participant could harm each other until the battle began. Beron would be able to choose the time and specifics of the fight, but Eris chose the stakes.

Beron cast a gaze at the rest of the council and guards in the room. “I see you’ve found some allies, Eris. Well done. Very well, son,” the word was hissed out like Beron said Azriel’s name, “I accept your challenge and stakes. You will give me two days to decide the time and specifics.”

Eris only glared at his father. “Very well. I will only agree to those two days because the court deserves to see your ass beaten 6 feet under.”

Beron laughed. A mocking laugh that was not real in any way. “Oh son, you think too highly of yourself. Meet me in this room in two days.”

Eris dipped his head briefly and then went toward the ceremonial bowl in the room. The one that was always there. The bowl was used for Crown Blood Duels. Eris pulled a hidden dagger from his sleeve and then cut across his palm without a single flinch to pour his blood into the bowl.

Beron took his time descending the dais, exuding power and control. But Eris was not intimidated. He knew the ways of his father. Beron held out a hand toward a servant for a knife. Apparently, his father wasn’t willing to show his hidden weapons’ locations or had none on him. A servant quickly produced a serrated edge of a kitchen knife. Beron scoffed, but cut his palm and poured his blood into the bowl. There was a scar on his other palm, from the last time this kind of Blood Duel was enacted.

As soon as he felt the compulsive magic settle under his skin, Eris whipped around, cleaning his dagger on a cloth he pulled from his pocket and exiting the room, letting out a breath.

He walked quickly toward his room, opening it for longer than it needed to be open before shutting it and locking it.

“You may reveal yourself now, shadowsinger.”

The shadows rippled away from the powerfully muscled body and wings. Azriel met his eyes briefly and Eris glared back. He knew what Azriel wanted. What he’d wanted that night and managed to make Eris do.

He wanted Eris on his knees. Crawling toward him. And pulling his pants down-

“Not now,” Eris hissed. “I have to gather what little allies I have compared to my father and make sure they present at the Blood Duel.”

“Why?” Azriel questioned. “Why can’t the duel just happen with nobody watching?”

“This is a battle for the title of High Lord, shadowsinger. Screw your head on and think about why allies might be necessary.”

Azriel paused for a moment before speaking slowly. “To claim the court immediately,” he reasoned. “Your allies will die if you lose, and it’s up to you about your father’s allies.”

“And I will grant them mercy if they swear an oath to me,” Eris said. “Otherwise they will become a resident of the dungeons.”

“How scheming,” Azriel commented, leaning against a nearby doorway. “Will you have to choose a new council, then?”

“Half of it is already on my side, shadowsinger. But yes, if they choose not to swear an oath.”

Azriel chuckled. “Best get writing then. I’m sure two days is barely enough to gather enough of a force to appear strong.”

“If you’re worried about me appearing strong, then you should be aware that one of my allies will be the Night Court.”

Azriel blinked. The only thing that gave away his surprise. “You’re counting on Rhys to have me appear at the Blood Duel.”

“Not counting, but hoping,” Eris chuckled. “If he truly is my ally, then he can prove it soon.”

“I’ll contact him,” Azriel said shortly. “I can get a message through much faster than you can.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Of course you can. Have fun with that. Make sure he knows that he cannot appear. Another High Lord makes it look like a scheme. The spymaster, however, makes it look like I already have strong allies for the Autumn Court.”

“Which will solidify your rule,” Azriel finished. “And ward off assassins and fighting.”

“Who knew you were so intelligent, shadowsinger?” Eris asked haughtily.

“Start writing your letters before I force you to your knees for that comment,” Azriel threatened.

“I think you will be the one forced to your knees,” Eris retorted.

“The evidence begs to differ.”

“That was one time, shadowsinger. I will make sure you know your place.”

Azriel only gave him a smirk before disappearing into the shadows again.

Eris rolled his eyes and sat down at his desk, and began to write.

———

“Tomorrow. Noon,” Beron said shortly. “Weapons are allowed, but only what you can carry in. To the death, of course. I can’t have my traitorous son walking around. You know where the fighting ring is.”

“Then prepare your witnesses, father,” Eris spat out. “And I will prepare mine.”

Beron only smirked. “Gladly.”

———

Eris was strapped in as many weapons as he felt was necessary. Daggers were light and easy to carry so he mostly carried those. However, he had a sword at his hip that he was prepared to throw out of the fighting ring at a moment's notice that he was unable to dodge fast enough. He also had a shield on his back for… reasons. It was impervious to fire and his father had said nothing about enchantments on items.

As he strapped on his final forearm guard, he looked back at his allies. Most were Autumn Court military personnel. He had respect from being General he easily used to his advantage. Some were council members. And some were other important people. But there were two winged dogs standing apart from the rest, strapped in weapons galore, watching with interest. Azriel, of course, and dear Rhysand felt it was needed to send another Illyrian dog to watch as well.

Beron’s allies were exactly as expected: council members and lords. Nobody of importance. Him bringing the shadowsinger and Lord of Bloodshed here was a powerful move to persuade his cause. In fact, he believed he already saw someone change sides.

Beron stepped into the slightly lowered pit in the ground. He was dressed in ceremonial armor. An idiotic move, but it showed confidence. Eris was prepared, wearing worn armor and weapons and his hair slicked back to keep it out of the way. But he wouldn’t be too disappointed if it did come up and get cut off.

Eris took a deep breath before meeting Azriel’s eyes briefly. This was the deciding move. The one time that he could mess everything up.

He stepped into the ring.

And his blood began to boil as the magic within him began to scream. It would only end with the death of one of them. Beron or Eris.

“Come on, son,” Beron taunted, “you can have the first move.”

Eris grit his teeth and stepped a bit closer.

“I thought you would, since I’m so traitorous,” Eris mocked back. “After all, who else deserves to discipline me?”

Beron tensed, his jaw visually tightening as he glared at Eris. Mentioning the fact Eris was “disciplined” by Beron was enough to get most people’s attention.

“I will become High Lord,” Eris said clearly. “And I will make this place better than you ever could.”

“Oh, so righteous!” Beron laughed. “But oh so wrong.”

Beron speared fire toward him and Eris rolled out of the way, pausing on one knee as he watched his father.

He just had to anger him enough to show that true Autumn fire. The High Lord’s power. The one that could kill someone in one swipe if they weren’t prepared.

Eris had to participate in this fight, however, and not just verbally, to seem strong. So he pulled his first dagger out and set it aflame with a hot, blue flame before sending it towards his father’s abdomen. Beron couldn’t dodge quickly enough and it hit. Exactly where Eris wanted it to. Just below the ribs. A painful place for both a burn and stab. The ceremonial armor is useless. And, that dagger happened to be coated in an ash wood poison. No healing from that wound. Only that of mortals.

Beron screeched and tore the dagger out, hurling it back at Eris. But the throw had no accuracy and only landed outside the ring.

“Losing your edge, huh?” Eris taunted. “Looks like it’s time to work on some skills and not bathe in the money of the Autumn Court’s poor all day.”

“I do no such thing,” Beron snarled. “If anyone is spending that money, it is you on my military.”

“Oh, how worthy,” Eris said with a chuckle and circled around Beron.

His father sent a strike of fire toward him. Then another and another.

Eris couldn’t dodge fast enough from them all and grit his teeth against the burns. He’d had worse. From his own father’s hand. He could do this.

Beron didn’t stop, seemingly enraged that Eris was just dodging. Using a split moment’s break in the fire, he drew another dagger and lit it before throwing it toward his father’s thigh now. Strategic. Each dagger was strategic to impede movement and anger him even more.

“Your accuracy is lacking, son. Don’t you know how to aim for the heart?” Beron mocked, once again yanking the dagger out. Blood spilled from both wounds. This time, however, he toyed with the dagger. “Smart. Ash wood poisoning. I suppose I said nothing about it. However, it seems you have no ability to defeat me like a male.”

Eris panted for a few moments. “Perhaps this court doesn’t need a so-called male, but someone smart enough to kill your stupid, tyrannical ass.”

Beron’s eyes shone with anger. True rage.

He threw the dagger at Eris. But it went past him. Over his shoulder. And embedded itself into Azriel.

Eris could not waste any time worrying over the male, however, and dodged even more fire. It was getting hotter. He was angering his father more and more. The final strike would be soon and Eris had a plan. When he managed to switch Beron’s and his sides, he could see Azriel gritting his teeth as he pulled a dagger from the front of his shoulder. Too close to the heart. Way too close. Cassian was helping, turning a glare on both of the males in the ring.

Eris cried out as he felt fire envelop his legs. He didn’t dodge. He was too distracted. What the actual fuck is wrong with him? It’s the shadowsinger. Of the Night Court. Eris didn’t care.

Oh, but he did.

“How funny. It seems my son has grown an attachment to the Night Court. Looks like I have some people to burn after this.”

Eris suddenly felt his body tugged to the left, just in time to dodge another bit of fire. When he looked down in confusion, he found bits of black hiding in his armor.

The shadows. Azriel’s shadows. They were helping him and despite what he may yell at afterward- much needed help.

“Or perhaps, you’re buried after this, in nothing but ashes under an unmarked grave. You deserve nothing more,” Eris snarled. He pulled another dagger out, hiding it behind his hand.

Beron gave a battle cry and shot an entire fire wall at him. Impossible to dodge, but it was enough to blind his father as well. In the split second he had before he was enveloped, he threw the dagger, aiming toward where he knew the throat was.

Eris then shielded himself using his own magic. It wasn’t the final blow yet. Not yet.

But the gurgling of blood told him it would be very, very soon.

Beron had the dagger embedded in his lower throat.

The air grew warm. The magic was evident with the scent of blood in the air.

Eris pulled the shield from his back. The one enchanted to withstand fire, and watched as Beron exploded. He ducked behind the shield and used the rest of his power to shield his allies.

He heard screams from Beron’s side.

And Eris himself? He was an inferno of pain.

But then the fire stopped. And there was a thud and a last breath drawn and released. Then fiery power raced up Eris’s spine and into his chest.

The High Lord’s magic had chosen him. He closed his eyes, letting it flow through him. Not control him. No. He let it flow and ebb and then relax and settle in him with the power he already held. Mixing and combining.

When Eris opened his eyes, he saw his father’s body and he saw the shielded part outside the ring. Azriel was holding a hand to his wound, but then raised a voice above the chaos.

“Eris, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Then there was cheering.

Eris felt his magic flow over his burns and wounds, healing him rapidly. He walked to his father’s body and turned to the charred and burnt people that had supported him. Then, with a snap of his fingers, burnt the body to ash.

“You will serve me, and swear an oath, or you will be taken to the dungeons for death. If you choose the right choice, then come forth, and kneel to your new High Lord.”

Only three came forth. One came from his own allies. The shielded ones. The one that had switched. His mother.

“I swear my allegiance to Eris, High Lord of the Autumn Court. Long may he reign and bring peace to this court,” the Lady of Autumn said.

The other two repeated these words.

He looked to his main commander in the army and then back at his father’s supporters. A silent order to deal with them. The commander dipped their head in understanding.

Eris smiled at his mother. “I am glad to see you were not burnt in his outburst.”

“I always knew you’d make a great High Lord,” His mother said. “You just needed the opportunity.”

He dipped his head and then looked back to the Night Court members.

Azriel looked a little paler than usual. That worried him.

He walked over, ignoring everyone else and pulled Azriel’s scarred hand away from his wound. Eris growled when he saw it. “We’re taking you to the healers.”

Cassian growled from beside him. “We have healers in the Night Court.”

Eris snarled, and felt his features slightly morph. The beast of the High Lord. Oh, he’d only seen it once. A beautiful creature, but terrifying, with huge wings, a long tail, horns, and huge jaws that shot fire.

Cassian paused, glaring at Eris.

“It’s fine Cass,” Azriel dismissed. “The Autumn healers are just as capable.”

Just then, he noticed a few pale redheads walking his way.

Hue and Kuhn, his brothers who he already knew supported him. Jax was likely not there or sitting charred in his seat over in Beron’s section.

But what was most surprising was Lucien. His littlest brother.

“Why are you here?” He asked suspiciously.

Lucien chuckled and seemed to force a smile. “I wanted to see that male die for myself,” he said, gesturing to the ashes.

Eris didn’t respond.

His mother barged in anyway.

“Oh dear, shadowsinger, do you need help with that wound?” She fretted, pushing past Eris to examine it.

Eris held back a snarl. What was with him and Azriel anyway? Why did he feel so protective of the male? He hated him. They hated each other. Mostly. It was hate-fucking. But goddamn it, Azriel had his blood boiling like the Blood Duel magic was still running through his veins.

“I know a healer who is excellent with stab wounds and burns, come with me,” His mother directed. “You may come too, Lord of Bloodshed.”

“Let me winnow us,” Eris said shortly, grabbing his mother’s hand and putting his other on Azriel’s uninjured shoulder. The shadowsinger sighed and put his bloody hand on Cassian.

Eris winnowed them into the Forest House.

He didn’t expect the fact that the winnowing didn’t even drain him. Normally, winnowing that many people would have a drain. Now? Now he was so much more powerful that there wasn’t even a difference.

“Oh Marlin!” His mother called. “I have an urgent injury that requires you!”

A female came running from an office room.

She glanced at Eris first, scanning him up and down. Then she dipped her head. “High Lord,” she said and then turned to his mother. “How may I help, my lady?”

“Oh dear, Azriel was stabbed…”

Marlin, the healer, immediately trained her eyes on the blood on Azriel.

“Oh shit,” she swore. “And I thought I’d be healing the new High Lord today, not the spymaster of the Night Court. Come here, come here. Take off your armor and let me see the wound.”

His mother followed the healer after Azriel. Cassian and Eris both paused outside, looking from the doorway.

“Whatever it is you’re trying to do with my brother, stop it,” Cassian growled suddenly.

Eris turned an unimpressed gaze on the Illyrian.

“I’m not doing anything,” Eris said. “I just became High Lord. What the hell could I be doing with the shadowsinger?”

Cassian didn’t reply.

When Azriel came back, he was carrying his chest armor while sporting a black shirt-sleeves undershirt that was almost skin-tight.

“I’m fine,” he assured Cassian.

Cassian didn’t say anything, just continued to look slightly worried and slightly angry.

Eris met Azriel’s gaze when he turned and then glanced obviously toward the shadows curling around the shadowsinger’s fingers. Then back at his eyes. A silent agreement that they would talk later occurred.

Eris let out a breath before looking toward his mother. “I have things to do. You may stay or go. I don’t particularly care. I will contact your High Lord soon.”

“We’ll be leaving,” Cassian growled, putting a hand on Azriel’s shoulder (his uninjured one) and glancing at the shadowsinger.

“I have things to do here, Cass,” Azriel said. “Rhys will want to see a complete report in the morning. I’ll winnow you home but I’m coming back.”

Cassian sighed. “Fine.”

They disappeared and Eris promptly turned right around to deal with the mess he had to unravel now.

———

It took hours and he only paused to think when he realized that it was midnight and Azriel was standing right behind him as he wrote off letter after letter to every lord in the Autumn Court.

“You need to sleep,” Azriel said shortly.

Eris rolled his eyes. “I don’t particularly care for your opinion of my sleep schedule, bat.”

Azriel’s lip tugged up a little bit. “Well, I have a better way of keeping you up then.”

The new High Lord sighed. “No.”

“It’s either sleep or you’re explaining why the fuck you were so protective over me today.”

“I was not-”

“You almost snarled at your own mother when she poked at my wound. Now either explain or go the fuck to bed.”

“I fucking hate you,” Eris muttered.

“For some reason, I’m starting to doubt that.”

“I was not protective!” Eris yelled. “The magic from the Blood Duel was still in my system.” Lies.

Azriel raised a brow as if he knew it was a lie. Eris groaned in frustration.

“Get out,” he ordered shortly, pointing at the door. “I have better things to be doing than listening to some overgrown bat.”

Azriel yanked his chair back away from the desk, forcing him to swiftly put down the quill before ink spilled on the paper. He turned back to snarl at Azriel some more, but found his lips otherwise occupied.

Azriel pulled away all too soon, just as Eris was about to relax into it. “You’re telling me the truth or you’re going to sleep. I don’t care if you’re High Lord now or not.”

Eris decided to not do either of those. He yanked the shadowsinger down by his neck and smashed their lips together.

When they pulled away to breathe, Azriel spoke between his pants. “I’m going to make you tell me the truth then.”

Oh. Shit. Eris was fucked.

a/n: is that the second cliffhanger i’ve left y'all on for this story? rip to you guys. well… until the smut chapter (part 3) is posted. bonus note: it has emotions. oh no lmao

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST HERE! - see post for specifics <3

@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @thegirlintheshadows101, @fieldofdaisiies,

(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in Eris Week or would like to!!)

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Ch5: Diners Demons & Disasters

Note: Here's the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

Warnings: Language...for now.

___________________________

When they arrived at Hell’s kitchen, folks cleared out of the Avatar of Gluttony’s way. Lena barely caught on to the many eyes drawn their way. She was famished and excited for her first dining-out experience in the Devildom.

“Your usual table is read-” Beel whizzed past the waiter, “-y.”

“Uhm, thank you…” Lena awkwardly nodded and quickly followed after the giant. She was afraid of not getting to eat anything on the account that he would clean them out of everything. That’s what Leviathan and Satan had warned them about earlier when they were shopping for room decor.

Speaking of the dev….you know, Satan and Mammon entered the place, causing the rest of the customers to flinch and stare with panic at their state. The blonde had caught a hold of his older brother’s jacket collar and was leading him, in his disheveled glory, to the waiter. There were many words exchanged. And soon, the owner of the establishment arrived with the check they were both after.

The rest of the group had managed to meet up with the more excited ones, filing in quietly, like normal customers. “There you are…” Simeon said, being the first to spot Lena and Beel. She was peeking over at his menu, asking questions about the ingredients.

“Was it really necessary to make a mad dash like that Lena? You’re making us look bad…” Zak looked embarrassed.

Lilly chuckled as she took her usual seat across from Lena. “If you’re worried about images that way, you picked the wrong crowd to hang with.”

“She’s right! These demon brothers are always causing scenes. Usually it’s over being selfish!” Luke added. The little pup took a liking to Zak after some demon started teasing him in the hallway, on the way to their next class. Simeon was busy talking with Solomon and Satan about their homework, so Zak was the only one around to aid him.

When everyone was seated, drinks were served. The group's banter filled the establishment and it felt like a cozy pub in an RPG, as Lena described to Leviathan sitting to her right. The group ordered so much, the owner had to start turning away other patrons.Then walked in the trio. You know, only the most intimidating demons in all of the Devildom.

“Wow! Fancy meeting all of you here!” Lord Diavolo boasted.

Lucifer gave a long sigh and glared at him with the response, “You knew they were all going to be here didn’t you? That’s why you were so insistent on it.”

Both Diavolo and Barbatos deflected Lucifer’s words and began to take a seat at the adjacent table from the large group. Grumpy joined them and the waiter rushed promptly to get their orders. The poor young demon looked so nervous, and who could blame him?

~

The saying “Time flies by when you’re having fun” was no joke. This band of misfits: demons, humans, angels, and nephilim were having a blast! There were many jokes at one another’s expense, slight bickering, questions about each others’ worlds. It was the exact thing that the exchange program was about. Then came the food.

One waiter brought an actual pyramid of burgers to Beelzebub; his personal platter. Another waiter was in charge of drink refills. It was quite a mess with everyone together; Save for Luke, Lilly, and Lena the rest were freaking giants. It was hard getting food passed around to the 14 people and 1 Beel.

The previously mentioned nervous waiter was now carrying a serving tray towards the Big Three’s table. Just as he made it in front of him, Mammon quickly scooted back without looking as he yelled at Satan about his check again.

The back of the chair smacked right into the poor, unfortunate waiter. It caused him to lose balance and the tray to teeter out of his hands. It was a scene shot in slow-mo like many movies: The plates left the tray, Lucifer’s eyes were so wide, and Diavolo was caught totally off guard.

Before the food could splatter all over the prince, Lena rushed to catch everything. Her secret ability was revealed in an instant: She was fast like a comic hero. But unlike them, she wasn’t the most agile. She did manage to get the tray and get the plates back on, but she stumbled backwards, slipping on Mammon’s dropped napkin.

Her eyes were squinted shut as she braced for impact. It felt...odd. She definitely landed, but there was no hard, cold floor. No broken glass sounds. In fact she knew she still had the tray of food in her head.

When she opened her eyes, Lena saw Diavolo towering over her at an odd angle. The whole place was silent enough to hear a pin needle drop. What the fu…

“Are you okay Lena?” The prince asked.

“I don’t know if I’m being honest with you…” she looked around to see her whole table just gawking at her dumbfoundedly.

Next she took in Lucifer’s bewildered expression, followed by Barbatos. Though, he of course remained the most neutral. What’s the deal?

Then it hit her. Diavolo’s angle. He was over her. No, he was embracing her! The giant of a man had caught her just as quickly as she had caught the food from falling on him. Their current position was probably the reason why everyone was quiet. Well that, and the fact everything happened in a nanosecond.

No, Lena and Diavolo looked like they had just danced one wild tango number and ended on a dramatic dip. It was hot. Or would have been without the fucking tray of burgers and fries. Sorry, DEMON burgers and fries. For someone as stark white as she was, Lena turned red like a lobster. Diavolo even had a tiny blush that only she could see from her proximity.

“MAAAMMMOOOOOOOONNN!!!” Lucifer closed the silence with his deep, booming voice. Everyone either laughed, took pictures, or hid their faces in embarrassment as the eldest brothers made a wild game of “TAG! You’re Fucking Dead!!!”

It was a good thing too. Well, not for Mammon of course. In that moment, Barbatos assisted Lena, by taking the tray. Diavolo raised her carefully to stand back onto her feet.

“Thank you, for saving dinner and my uniform.” Diavolo chuckled.

Lena gave a sheepish smile, “And thank you for saving my uniform, and the bill for the table I would have broken.”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. They laughed at the pictures they managed to capture. Lilly questioned Lena about what happened and she explained to everyone that nephilim are extremely fast. They also each had an ability unique to themselves. Though she and her brothers teased the rest of the group by not telling them what those abilities were.

“Well, it looks like both Lucifer and Mammon aren’t coming back,” Azri said, taking Lucifer’s seat. He was tired of having a sleeping Belphegor trying to use his shoulder as a pillow to drool on. “I’ll box his up for one of them to take back.”

“That’s generous of you.” Barbatos replied, giving a small hint of a smile.

Azri chuckled, “It is, especially after hearing that he put my darling sister in a filthy attic with no amenities…” That didn’t go past big brother Azri. “If I may, can I skip class tomorrow in order to fix things up for her?”

Barbatos and Diavolo exchanged looks before glancing over at Lena, who had moved seats to take funny pictures with and of the sleeping Belphegor.

“I know you’re wondering why I don’t just let her do it.” Azri continued, “Something happened with her not long before she finally agreed to come here. Obviously we’re a year late to the program. I don’t want to dish out her personal stuff, but I want to do something nice for her.” He finished packing Lucifer’s dinner and added, “I also can’t stand the thought of her sleeping in a room filled with cobwebs! And I know she will do a half-ass job at cleaning it herself!”

That made Diavolo chuckle and he compared the eldest nephilim to Barbatos.

“I am not that bad, Lord Diavolo. It’s my job to ensure you're catered to and well taken care of. A prince can’t live in dirty quarters…” Barbatos responded. Although he held a smile, Azriel could see the fury in his eyes. It made him chuckle.

*****

“Le, stop that! You’ll get in trouble….again!” Zak scolded, though unable to keep from laughing. Lena was holding her phone so it looked like she was petting Belphegor’s head like a puppy while he slept.

“He looks so cute though!!!” she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Luke sighed, “It seems that you’re as bad as Asmo…”

“I wonder…” Asmo replied teasingly, before winking and giving Lena a kissy face from across the table. She chuckled and playfully returned the kiss.

“What does that even mean?” Luke asked innocently. It caught Zak off guard. He wasn’t used to being around innocent kiddos like him. Simeon intervened, however, much to the nephilim’s relief. He wasn’t sure why the kid followed him around so much.

*****

When the group was finished with their meal, Diavolo picked up the check. He and Barbatos headed out first because they had a busy schedule ahead of them the next day. “Good night everyone!” he chuckled and waved.Several of them returned the wave and thanked him. Lena couldn’t help but blush a little when their eyes met briefly.

“Mmmh-hmmm, I saw that.” Lilly whispered, giving a mischievous grin at the nephilim.

Lena shot the human a look, “What are you even talking about?”

“Oh I saw it too Lilly. I feel a little jealous now.” Asmodeus joined in. He puffed out his bottom lip, fake pouting at Lena.

“Oh fuck off. The both of you…” she grumbled, still blushing.

The group eventually had to split off into those who would go to Purgatory Hall and those that resided in The House of Lamentation. Before they did, Zak hugged Lena and told her good night. Azriel did the same, but revealed something that annoyed her.

~

“Lilly, let me crash on your sofa tonight please.” She gritted as they entered the house.

Asmo pouted, “But why Darling? I thought you liked snuggling with me…”

Lena sighed and nodded, “I actually do, Asmo. It’s just that I don’t want your pretty room to be engulfed in flames in the morning…”

The group stared at the nephilim with shock and worry. Well, Belphegor didn’t because he was passed-out and being carried off to bed by a sulking Beel, who wasn’t full.

“Azri got permission to skip school tomorrow in order to remodel my bedroom.” Lena sighed, “It is absolutely sweet of him, but anything design-related...well you saw him shopping today. He goes fucking nuts. I bet he will rush in before sunrise to start.”

Lilly scratched her head. “And what about the flames?”

“Well, we’ve not known each other long enough for him to feel it appropriate that I share a bed with someone in this house...even though it’s clearly none of his fucking business. I’m a grown ass woman.”

“Yeah you are!” Lilly chimed.

“If it’s none of his business, then why the concern?” It was Satan who asked this time.

“He’s already going to be in his weird-ass mood, so the shock and insinuation would cause him to snap. It’s happened more times than I can count.” Lena sulked and shook her head.

“OOOH! So then maybe Azriel’s unique ability is pyrokinetics then?” Leviathan asked with excitement, “Like El Lumino from the Revengers comic! He gets mad and accidentally burns things like Mrs. Magnificent hover jet in The New Revengers Vol 13, issue 42: El Lumino’s Ultra Bad Day!”

Lena hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. That’s like him alright. Now, don’t get me wrong. He is progressive. He’s a chill brother, who is the most responsible one of us. It’s just when “Crazy Azri” comes out, he is too unpredictable to take any chances. If ‘overprotective brother mode’ is activated, all bets are off.” It was really embarrassing.

“He did look pretty intense back at Majolish.” Lilly nodded, remembering his trance. “But then again, I recall someone else acting like a total zombie…” She and the brothers laughed at Lena.

“Ha ha. Very funny...oh wait! The clothes!!!!” Lena zoomed up the stairs. To the others, she simply blinked out of existence.

“She’s...gone?” Satan pondered.

“Don’t underestimate the power of fashion, Satan.” Asmo chuckled, “She’s probably swimming through all of those bags in her room…”

The brothers decided to all split up for the night, returning to their own rooms. Each one of them had a small bag from Majolish hanging on their door knobs; a gift from Lena for “putting up with her during the exchange program”. They each had a tie that matched their aesthetic. Of course Satan’s was a bow tie and Asmo had a pretty Lolita-style cravat.

Lilly took both Lucifer’s and Mammon’s dinners to their rooms. Neither one had made it back, which meant it might be a couple of days before they’d get to see Mammon again. Ouch!

When she went to her room, she found Lena sitting on her couch in her pajamas with a new pillow and Hell-o Kitty blanket she’d bought on that landmark shopping trip. She had a slightly revealing tank with a skull made out of flowers and booty shorts on. Lilly bit her lip and marched straight to her bed. Why?! She asked herself. Well, they were in hell and this had to be her personal torture lingering around her room in sexy nightwear. Well anything would look sexy on Lena.

((Heatha here with smexy news. Next week’s chapter will have our first bit-o-smut ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)))

[queeracebat-blog]

Part 1: The Meeting of E and J

“Heir Elia,” a voice echoed down the hallways. Elia cringed, pressing themself against the nearest wall. They weren’t overly fond of being hunted with the intention their father’s manservant was hunting them.  To dress for the ball Elia’s father was throwing would be a disaster, of which not even they would be able to avoid. Elia was not overly enthused on dressing as they were informed they would be dressing - a gown. A gown! Elia would much rather wear trousers, thank you. “I believe I saw Heir Elia go towards the gardens,” the voice of one of the kitchen boys carried from the kitchen, barely ten feet in front of Elia. The gardens were on the opposite side of the compound, but it would give Elia time to escape. They internally thanked the boy, all the while waiting until the manservant’s footfall had quieted to sprint. As they passed the kitchens, Elia watched a hand snap out of the kitchens. They tried to slow themself, tumbling forward and landing on their face. “Hello Azri. You’re late,” the kitchen boy from earlier said jovially. He helped Elia up, dusting off their front. “Now, you promised to help me gather herbs and berries from the forest, what would I do without you to guard me?” Elia’s shoulders sagged with relief, the kitchen boy was freeing them from going to the ball - but they would have to guard this boy. He was barely taller than them, and his face was narrower by quite a bit. Elia looked over his face, trying to figure out where they knew him from, but they could not figure it out. “I, of course. I had to bargain with my master,” the words spilled out of Elia’s mouth not of their own control. The boy snickered, his eyes sparkling. “If you are still free to leave, we can head for the fields on the northern side of town?” “Thank you, Azri. Let’s go.”

Elia had been trained from early childhood to fight, dance and ride, but everything they did had not prepared them for trying to keep up with the boy. He and his steed sped ahead of Elia and their steed, Ashe. Elia tried to encourage Ashe to speed up, but she blatantly ignored Elia’s pleas. The boy turned in his saddle at a point, laughing at Elia. “She never cooperates when she doesn’t want to,” Elia grumbled, running their fingers through the soft feathers at the neck of the gryphon they were riding. “When she and I bonded, I had no idea how difficult she would be.” “I assume she could say the same about you?” the boy asked with a laugh. His gryphon turned, trotting over. The boy leaned forward, putting his hand on the neck of the beautiful gryphon. Hello beautiful. Your rider requires speed to get away from the tortures of political gain. For the first time in a long time, Ashe looked thoughtful. A musical chuckle filled the air, the other gryphon was snickering. “Ignore him, he finds it quite amusing to make fun of anyone and everyone,” the boy muttered, heat rising to his cheeks. Elia tried to hold back a laugh, for the blush covered not only the boy’s cheeks but his ears. “His name is Avion.” “And your name?” Elia asked, tilting their head, extending their hand. “I am sure you know who I am,” they muttered spitefully. “Yes, you are Heir Elia, or as your father calls you, his fool of a child.” “The dragon of prophecy - the Dragon who prefers no gender. The Dragon who will rule these lands as their first King. King Elia the Grimm.” “Are you sure of that, Heir Elia?” “I am certain.” The boy chuckled, leaning back in the saddle. The gryphon beneath him huffed, and the boy groaned. “Avion has demanded I answer your earlier question,” he grumbled, glancing at Elia. They raised their eyebrow, almost as if questioning if he would ever do as he was instructed. “Jamiac. My master gave me the name. Before that, it was just Jami.” “Which do you prefer?” He looked away from Elia, off to the woods on the far end of the compound. Elia sighed, shaking their head. They patted Ashe’s side, spurring her on into a run. Jamiac shouted, and Avion was soon matching Ashe’s pace.

They reached the woods by sundown. If they looked back, the two could see the rise of the compounds highest building, the Manor of the house of Grimm. Elia would frequently go to the rooftop of the manor and look out on the world - but today, seeing the manor from where they were stood, Elia realized they preferred it this way. Not above or below their companion, on equal ground. “Father said I would meet my betrothed tonight,” Elia spoke into the quiet of the wood. “He said I would have to start going by Nadia again. That I was no longer my own.” Ashe rumbled, and Elia sighed. They ran their fingers through her feathers again, and the gryphon chirruped. Jamiac looked contemplative. Lights started arriving at the bottom of the compound, and the far away sounds of trumpets announced that the ball would soon be beginning. Elia had been dreading it, when they were in the grounds of the compound. Now, all they wanted was to figure out why they were happier outside. “Have you ever thought of running away?” Jamiac asked, his voice sounding distant to Elia’s ears. They turned their head slightly to the side, looking to him. “My master. He wants me to leave the compound soon. To be free. Do you want to come with me?” Elia blinked. They had only just met this boy and he was offering them a way out of a life that until the day of, they had not even known they had wanted to leave. What were they to do, accept? He was a stranger, he could try to kill them or kidnap them and hold them for ransom. Ashe, what do I do? The gryphon chuckled. Oh little one. You always jump to conclusions - he genuinely wants to help you. Elia glanced back towards the compound. “Give me three days. I will think about it, and discuss it with Ashe in length.”

[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're highlighting @chairofchaos!

🔥 Choas is a masterful Azris writer that has our hearts in her hands. If you're looking for something delightfully angsty or heartfelt (or both), look no further than her writing.

Although all of her work is amazing, we're currently crying over Letters of Love, which details Eris and Azriel falling in love and their relationship over time. Definitely get some tissues for this one. 😭😭And if you can't take our word for it take one of her fans:

The Letters of Love series has me spellbound in a way I can not describe. The love, the angst, the writing! I will forever cherish it. Chaos is truly a wonderful writer even if she is chaotic and I will devour this series until the end of time.

Be sure to check out their masterlist, including this Azris drabble!

Read on to learn some of Chaos's favorite Eris headcanons and which national/regional park Eris would get lost and die (or not die) in.

yes. we asked this.

Give us a name for one of Eris’ Brothers

James (so that he can use the “Um. James…” TikTok sound. A modern Eris would secretly have a TikTok. Super secret, but he would have one). Also, a relatively modern name simply because I’m tired of trying to get my word processor to recognize the validity of “Eris” and “Feyre” and even “Elain.” (No, do not add an “e”. I said, DO NOT ADD AN “E”!)

Give us a name for one of Eris’ hounds

Butter. Eris named him as a child because the hound liked to steal things off the kitchen counter, and the first thing he ever stole was a stick of butter. Eris got in a little trouble for it, so the official story is that his fur was lighter than is typical for a smokehound, and smooth like butter. The truth is that he fell in love with the little thief, and wanted to commemorate that first occurrence of thievery. It was a subtle act of rebellion on Eris’ part, and the chef was not pleased when he heard.

Give us some of your favorite Eris headcanons!

Eris is the family secret keeper. His mother tells him things. Lucien tells him things. His other brothers don’t mean to tell him things, but they drop hints and he’s smart enough to put things together. He goes unnoticed by adults as a young person, and is able to gather more information than anyone thought was possible. In doing so, he accidentally positions himself as knowledgeable on many family and court matters he probably shouldn’t even have known about in the first place. People also have a habit of just sharing things with him at random times, so he knows a considerable amount about each of the family guards, the Autumn Council, and their families. He’s a favorite with the court gossips because he will listen. He will rarely contribute, but he will always listen. As a result, everyone in court believes he is on their side. How this will play out when he is High Lord, Eris has no idea. For now, he’s happy hearing their tales of woe. Lord Cherry’s son eloped with the royal groundskeeper who taught Eris how to garden? Eris is absolutely shocked! Of course, he was the one who gave them a carriage to go to Spring, but Lord Cherry doesn’t need to know that.

Who scares Eris the most?

Eris is most scared of himself. I saw a post just the other day where a person told their therapist they were worried they would destroy everything, and their therapist told them they didn’t have that kind of power. They found it helpful because knowing you don’t have the power to change huge things in rage helped them. The difference here is that Eris has that kind of power by his proximity to societal power and his literal powers. He can destroy everything that matters to him if he is careless enough, and that terrifies him. He fears he would be powerful enough to change the world, and wishes he did not have that amount of power, because he has seen first hand how power corrupts. Outside of himself, he is most scared of Lucien. Lucien has more power than he could even imagine, and Eris isn’t sure his brother knows. At the same time, he fears the day Lucien discovers Eris knew, and that Lucien will never forgive him for keeping the knowledge to himself.

What kind of father does Eris imagine he would be, and does that differ from his actual father?

Eris imagines himself to be a brutal, unyielding, possibly even abusive father, as Beron was. He has never known a loving father, and while he believes it is theoretically possible, he looks in the mirror and sees Beron staring back at him. In every way possible, Beron has shaped Eris to be unforgiving, unyielding, brutal, and cruel. Eris worries that he will become Beron if he has children. It takes someone telling him that his worries and fear of becoming his father are what can keep him from becoming Beron. He needs a lot of support to feel confident enough that it is possible in order to become a father at all. Once he has that support, I think he does everything he can to be a better father than the one he had.

What national/regional park would Eris get lost and die (or not die) in?

Eris is dying in Petrified Forest National Park as we speak. He’s dying of heat related injuries and sun exposure. That male was not made for the desert. Fire powers cannot save you from the Arizona sun.

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Ch 2: Getting A Little Cozy

NOTE: Sorry about the delay. Had an unexpected guest I had to babysit. I also couldn’t stop writing this. I had no idea where to stop this chapter lol.

Warnings: None, just a little language. I

“Pftssss…” Lena had to cover her mouth with both hands quickly. The badass demons everyone on Earth feared were a bunch of bratty children! The nephilim wanted desperately to film the scene and share with her brothers. They wouldn’t believe her if she told them about this.

Lilly rolled her eyes and sighed as she begrudgingly went on into the room to join the chaos. She then patted the empty seat beside her for Lena. Of course the guys didn’t even pause in their antics at the arrival of their new guest.

The remaining seat available for Leviathan was on the other side of Lena. It seemed he would be stuck beside the 3D nephilim for eternity at this rate. He sat down, focusing on his phone, trying to rapidly tap on it while reaching towards his food.

“You’re going to pay me back for my property AND you’re going to retrieve it.” Satan responded. Lena thought he looked like he was going to snap at any moment given the giant vein on his forehead. She didn’t envy Mammon being the target of his rage.

Lucifer started to eat, but hesitated to say, “Mammooooon…” Which instantly caused the loud demon to melt into his seat to sulk. The eldest resumed his meal, ignoring the death stares still being shot at him by Belphegor.

“This looks delicious.” Lena finally spoke. The commotion, all of the food, the smells; All of it had been overwhelming and she didn’t realize she hadn’t tried anything yet. It was definitely colorful, and somewhat intimidating. She absolutely would not question the ingredients, let alone the nutrition facts. Wait, do they even have Nutrition Facts in the Devildom? 

Asmodeus had sat down, giving up on Beelzebub’s inability to control himself. When Lena spoke up, he gave her a sweet smile, “Oh it is. And it is super healthy. I wanted you to get to taste something wonderful for your first meal in the Devildom.”

“That’s sweet of you, thanks.” Lena chimed with a huge grin before digging in. “Damn this is sooooo good!” Her piercing blue eyes widened with excitement. No wonder the bigg’un over there was wolfing the stuff down. Her reaction caught a few of them off guard and nobody confessed that Asmo merely ordered the food. He solely focused on the presentation. 

It did get a few under-the-breath chuckles from a few of them as Asmodeus beamed at her response, “Oh thank you hun. I knew you’d like it. You seem to have good taste...you’re brothers too.” He was referring to the fashion they were wearing. He also noticed the fine quality of her luggage before. It looked quite expensive.

Lena chuckled, “Haha...Azri trained me well. We share a love of fashion...and shopping. I really need to do some shopping as soon as possible…” It was more of a note to herself out loud, but the beauty guru of a demon lit up with excitement, “Oh let me take you! Lilly we have to show her Majolish!”

Lilly joined in with equal amounts of excitement, “Yes we gotta. And it sounds like Azri should tag along too.” 

“NO!” Lena responded louder than she meant to. Lucifer actually stared at her for a moment. “I mean uh, not this time...he and I may have a few disagreements...when it comes to expenses.” There were a few demons at the table who could understand that. Pretty much Lucifer and Satan were the only responsible shoppers in the room. And of course Lucifer tried to keep a tight leash on his little brothers’ shopping expenses.

“I do need a few immediate room amenities ASAP.” Lena continued, “After Levi wrestled down all of those sheets, dust and cobwebs went all over the place. It’s a hot mess...and not in the good time.” that got a laugh out of Asmo and Lilly, “And I have no sheets, pillows, or a comforter...and I some furniture for my clothes...they’re all packed away still…”

“Awe! That’s no good! You can’t let your clothes get dusty!’ Asmo covered his mouth. He couldn’t imagine living in a room so dusty. It made him want to skip dinner and head directly to his luxurious bathtub. “Lena, you can sleep with me tonight?” Of course he was all smiles and eager to offer that.

“Asmo. Yer just being a perv.” Mammon commented, pausing his sulk-eating. 

Lilly shook her head, “I’m lending her a set of my sheets and a pillow for tonight. And did you show her the Akuzon app Levi? She can quickly order some cool furniture to be sent here in no time.”

The otaku demon looked up from his phone, “Yeah, I showed her Akuzon. We ordered some manga and wall scrolls and…” Leviathan proceeded to list 30 unnecessary anime or gaming-related items.

“What the hell! Did you just order that for yourself?!” Mammon exclaimed. He thought his brother went on a wild spree with Akuzon again. A rather bold assumption coming from the Avatar of Greed himself.

“No no no no!” Lena laughed, “He gave me a few recommendations, and then I saw a few things I liked. I'm a huge fan of gaming and manga myself.” Mammon, Asmo, and Lilly blinked with surprise. Great, there was another one amidst them.  “Hey, don’t judge me! They are great art forms and there is such a plethora of dynamic stories you couldn’t experience in any other media. I would also like to add that I am a freelance artist on the side and I focus on anime and gaming characters…”

Leviathan stared at Lena for a moment in awe of her ‘speech’. Where everyone else understood that she was just conversing about the subject, the indigo-haired demon saw her standing at a podium, giving an academy award-winning performance and he fought the urge to clap.

“Ah, gotcha.” Mammon responded. The other two nodded.

“Hey! Why did you guys just nod when she spoke passionately about those things, but when I say anything, you give me such crap you normies!” he scrunched his nose at his brothers in particular.

“Because she didn’t try to ramble incoherently about it for an eternity or bog us down with unimportant details Levi…” Asmodeus shrugged.

“Awe...I’m sorry…” Lena patted his shoulder, feeling bad for Leviathan, “I’ll listen to your rambles anytime.” Leviathan sighed and shrunk down for a moment, then realized that the female nephilim was patting him. A girl. Touching him. Repeatedly!

“WAAAAAGH! NooOoooOO!” Leviathan rose like a vampire from a coffin, out of his chair, and ran from the room. Everyone laughed at the scene. Even Lucifer ‘covered his mouth to cough’ at the same moment.

Lena merely chuckled sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to make him so uncomfortable...I guess I’m a little too chummy…”

“No. Leviathan is just…” Lilly tried to find the right words for it, “well he refers to himself as a shut-in. He always freaks out about body contact. Pretty much with just about anyone…” Though she knew Lena’s case was a little different and couldn’t help but chuckle.

~

When dinner was over, the house members scattered. Lena went with Mammon and Asmodeus to Lilly’s room to hang out and further discuss shopping plans. Levi didn’t respond when Mammon banged on his door to join them. It was nice to be getting along well enough with a few of the brothers already. The nephilim didn’t feel as welcomed earlier that day as she was now.

“This looks cool!’ she said as she approached the tree, “I can’t say I’ve seen a huge tree just growing in someone’s bedroom before. Are Poison Ivy or something?” Lena chuckled and sat on the side of the bed.

“Well, she and I do have a few things in common, not gonna lie…”Lilly responded as she joined her new friend. 

“So, are we gonna go shopp’n after class tomorrow?” Mammon scratched his head, looking a bit uncomfortable as he sat on the couch, “I may have to ditch last period if I’m gonna go too.”

This made a huge smirk spread across Asmo’s glossy lips, “Ah, trying to avoid paying our Dear Satan your check tomorrow by spending it all with us?” The question caused his older brother to blush and furrow his brows, embarrassed and angry that he got caught. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin about. I just feel like getting a head start…”

Lilly exchanged looks with Asmo, then Lena. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

“100%. I just arrived here today and I can read you like a book dude.” Lena gave Mammon a devilish grin.

Great, now the new girl was joining in on the ‘let’s pick on Mammon brigade. It’s bad enough when his little brothers and best friend did it, but her? Crossing his arms, the greedy demon refused to respond to her remark.

“While I do love poking fun at my scummy big brother,” Asmo chimed, “I do want to resume our discussion from earlier. What are we ever going to do about you in that filthy attic room?” Lilly joined in at the concern. “Why don’t you store your clothing in my closet until your furniture arrives from Akuzon? Lilly did the same thing.”

“That would be great, actually, I was kind of concerned about wrinkles and creases...and my brother vaporizing me over it.” Azri was the chillest guy out there, but fuck with his clothes and he was a 6’4”, fire-breathing maniac with claws. 

“And as for sleeping arrangements, I do really think you should consider sleeping in my room with me.” Asmo added. Immediately Mammon and Lilly glared at him.

Lena wasn’t an idiot; she knew he was clearly the Avatar of Lust. The right amount of narcissism, the insistence of closeness, and the weariness of everyone around him. She was also a big girl that could take care of herself. Even if he was a demon of seduction. “You know what? I’m game. If you have a clean, comfy bed I will crash it.”

The other two just looked dumbfounded at her, while Asmodeus closed his eyes and grinned. “Oh this will be lovely. We can do nightly facials and I’ll braid that beautiful silvery hair of yours. Maybe we can take a bath together?”

“Hmm...I might forgo that bath...for now.” Lena responded, “but the rest of that sounds delightful after this incredible fucking journey. My day wasn’t going well before I arrived, and then I’ve been a little overwhelmed by...well, EVERYTHING I’ve seen since we got here.”

“Are you sure about this? My brother’s a little perv…” Mammon’s arms were crossed again and he looked genuinely concerned. He didn’t want to be strung upside down somewhere by Lucifer again for not at least warning the girl. They were also supposed to be cautious with the nephilim until they learned more about them at least. Lucifer’s orders.

Lena yawned, unphased by the older demon’s concerns, “Maybe I am too?” She gave a sly expression at Mammon, making him blush and look away, pretending not to be. “I think you guys have some misconceptions about nephilim. Just because we are half angels, doesn’t mean we are highly virtuous and prudish.” She grinned, reflecting on the trouble she and her brothers have caused over the centuries. “I mean, we have more morals than demons, that’s for sure, but our feelings are so intensely human and we’re considered flawed for it. We’re whimsical, passionate, reckless, and live life to the fullest. And we suffer for it too.” 

The others in the room were quiet, reflecting on what she said. Mammon admittedly thought she and her brothers may be a bit innocent-like. Even older angels like Simeon tended to be. He and his brothers were once before. Asmo shared that sentiment as well, but was delighted knowing for sure that Lena wasn’t.

Standing up, Lena yawned again and stretched before she walked over to Asmodeus with an extended hand to help him up, “I’m really tired after eating so much tonight. Don’t we have to get up early tomorrow? I wanna rest ‘cause I am a horrible monster to wake up in the morning.”

Asmodeus took her hand; it was as soft as his. He blushed with delight and excitement. “Yes, we’d better get our beauty sleep! You too; the both of you!” Lilly was something of a muse for Asmo when designing and consulting Majolish with petite creatures in mind and his big brother did a lot of modeling.

~

The demon’s bedroom was so pretty and feminine. And it smelled wonderfully. The bed looked as soft and comfortable as she’d imagined it to bed. “Asmo, are you sure you’ve fallen? ‘Cause this room looks heavenly after doing all that dusting!” she stepped out of her shoes quickly and sprung for the bed, eager to touch the cozy comforter. “You weren’t kidding about this.”

There was a chuckle from Asmo, not taking offense to the comment at all. She was genuinely excited. Mimicking a feline, he walked slowly towards the nephilim. ‘I never kid about luxury and beauty darling.” He reached for Lena’s hair, pulling it all behind her. It was as silky as he imagined. She didn’t withdraw from him, good. He ran his fingers slowly through her locks before suggesting they went over to his vanity.

They both gazed in the mirror together. She looked drowsy, he was only a little. “I am so curious about you nephilim. I never met one personally until today.” He picked up a brush and began running it through her hair before putting it into a braid. Everything he did was in a rather intimate way, yet Lena never gave a reaction beyond her tiredness. 

“There’s honestly not a lot to be curious about.” Lena responded. She loved when others played with her hair and it was quite common for Azri to braid hers so no tangles got in it. He was more concerned by it than she was. That Mother Hen. “You really can ask me anything. You all can. We are transparent; we literally can’t lie. That’s the stupid angelic trait we all share. At best we can simply not answer you. That being said, and simply because we three are scorpios, we fucking hate lies. Don’t. *clap* Do. *clap* It. We sense that shit miles away.” She made Asmo laugh uncontrollably as she gave instances where exes got their cars destroyed or a garden gnome’s decapitated head through their bedroom window on the 5th story of an apartment. They were definitely far from angelic. Definitely emotional creatures to say the least.

“Lena. I think you and your brothers will really like it here in the Devildom. Your..passionate natures can run wilder here than it possibly could in the human world.” When he finished her hair, Asmo lifted the end and smelled it in a sensual way. “You can put your jewelry here. I promise it’s safe from my scumbag brother, Mammon. There’s a curse on this box specifically targeting him. Solomon created it.

“Oh did he now?” That got her attention. Her brow was raised as she looked at it. It did have the elaborate designs he fancied. “So you’re one of his..contracted?” 

Asmo nodded as he retrieved the night masks they agreed to apply once their make-up was removed. “Yes. We have a contract. He’s such an interesting human; I couldn’t resist him.”

Lena chuckled, “Trust me, I know. Been there…” This time Asmo was brought to attention.

“Are you one of his…?” he asked carefully. “Hell no! I wasn’t one of his 300 wives or 700 concubines...or is it vice versa? Any no. We did have a wild time together during the renaissance period in Italy. I’m not easily tamed and we were just ‘having fun’.”

Asmo beamed, wanting to know all of the juicy details. “Oh I’ve got some stories for you, darling. But then again he has plenty on me so you’d better not say anything to anyone else, got it!” Lena gave him a serious expression with the mask on, making him chuckle, but agreed not to tell. “I can promise pinky. Lilly explained how important a tradition it is. Heavier than a blood oath!’  

The nephilim started at him blankly. This was one of those times where she just had to avoid the truth. No comment. No problem. She shared the pinky promised the demon and they continued getting ready, spilling little stories along the way. Then came time to change clothes.

The demon leant her an oversized t-shirt that smelled like citrus, because Lena wasn’t going all of the way back to the dusty attic after getting nice and clean. She began removing her shirt, not thinking anything of Asmo being in the room.

“Oh my!” he said with wide eyes, “how bold you are, tempting me like this.” He turned away blushing, but held quite the smile. He thought of how much fun they might have in time.

Lena chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to changing in front of others. Dorm life; fashion life; party life.” Her bra was tossed aside only after she put the shirt on and slid her ripped jeans off. Asmo changed in his giant bathroom. 

He emerged where cute, cyan pajamas that made Lena giggle, “You look so cozy.”

“And you look cute, yet seductive.” he chimed back as he headed to pull back the comforter. He insisted that Lena got in first, and to get comfortable. She followed the suggestion, then decided it was best to place a pillow between them, just to set things straight. She didn’t mind flirting around with him, but she had a little apprehension and self-control. 

He wanted to pout at the dividing pillow. Lilly did the same thing, which was no fun. He wanted to at least snuggle with her, feel her curves that filled-out his shirt. They laid beneath the top sheet and comforter, facing one another with smiles. “Good night Asmo. Thank you for the delicious first dinner, volunteering to go shopping with me tomorrow, and letting me crash here.”

“You’re welcome Darling. And thank you for sharing some candid Solomon stories. I’ll cherish them forever!” They both laughed and the demon watched as Lena drifted off into her dream world. It was really quite something. She had all of the trust in the world in him not to try something with her. He was always used to apprehension and it took forever for Lilly to fully trust in him.

He found himself wanting to run his fingers against the edge of her soft, porcelain face and hair as she slumbered. Asmodeus refrained, but continued to watch over her until he too fell into a deep sleep.

~

The sound of some odd alarm clock started buzzing, causing Lena to groan and bury her face under a pillow. It was strange. It smelled like lavender and honey. She didn’t recall trying any new perfumes lately. And she didn’t have one of her witchy ladies crash.

“Good morning Darling.” she heard a songbird voice chime. It was so close to her; TOO CLOSE! The nephilim quickly rose, clutching the pillow beside her in a panic. It was obvious that she forgot all that had transpired the night before. Lena was totally lost, having no recollection of entering this “Better Homes Than Yours”-looking bedroom.

Her eyes darted straight over to the owner of that voice: a “pretty boy” type. He had a seductive smirk as he stared up at her. He was clothed, though his pajama shirt was completely unbuttoned. It made her instinctively look to see what she was or wasn’t wearing.

The nephilim’s antics caused Asmodeus to chuckle lightly. He knew exactly what was going on in her head. He’d seen it happen so many times: The panic of waking up in a stranger’s bed. The Avatar of Lust never got bored watching this scenario play out. He was highly curious about what Lena thought had happened. “What’s wrong Darling? You look a little lost…” He decided he would have a little fun with her.

“I uhm…” was all Lena could manage to respond with. Her hair was braided, yet the top was completely frizzed. Her eyes widened when the stranger reached towards her. “Did we…?” It wouldn’t be her first time, by a long shot, but she felt completely refreshed instead of her normal hung over status after an ONS. 

“Did we what Lena, Darling?” Asmo asked, playing coy. He was loving this. What naughty thoughts was she having about him? She froze, looking at his open shirt. He looked so hot laying like that. She’d be very proud of herself if she didn’t in fact jump his bones the night before.

“You know…” she said, slightly embarrassed, “bump uglies…”

“There is most certainly nothing ‘ugly’ about me Darling.” he responded, giving her a wink. He let her process that for a moment, watching her sigh and throw herself back on the bed, covering her face with her hands. He knew he was on the edge of taking things too far, and decided to stop with the charade.

Leaning really close to her, Asmodeus whispered in Lena’s ears, “As much as it would’ve been, we only did facials and went to sleep.” He chuckled softly as he saw her ear turn pink.

“Eeeergh!” Lena gritted her teeth and popped the side of his hip, as he was casually lounging on his side, embarrassing the hell out of her. “You are fucking aweful!” She kicked around, pouting.

Asmo chuckled more, loving being able to see her like this. She was absolutely adorable in this state. He totally saw why Solomon would try to fool around this dangerous beauty. He didn’t react, but that swat actually hurt a little. “As much as I want to keep snuggling-up in bed and tease you, we really need to start getting ready for class. You do NOT want Lucifer on your case, especially so early in the morning.”

Remembering she had to go to school made Lena groan even more. “Damn it! I don’t wanna Asmo...it’s too early!” 

~

It took awhile for the two of them to get dressed, followed by hair and make-up. Asmodeus couldn’t resist getting to make-over someone after getting himself dolled-up. It was clear that Lena was used to it, holding perfectly still and moving about just right. She explained that she modeled for her brother, Azriel, quite often.

When they were ready, both Lena and Asmo exited his room, giggling about some joke she’d told about Solomon. It just so happened that Levi and Satan were walking down the corridor to witness this.

Of course, neither of them knew about the sleeping arrangement, and thought exactly the wrong thing. “Oh, good morning guys. What do you think? Am I RAD material?” the nephilim asked, showing off her school uniform. She felt rather silly wearing a uniform. Her school didn’t require one, focusing on individuality and expression more. 

Satan merely stared at her, blinking. He wasn’t sure what this situation was, nor how to respond. “Uhm, it suits you well..” he cleared his throat a bit. Asmo was such a clever little demon, knowing what his older brothers thought and continued to play games. He reached out and took Lena’s hand. “It does, doesn’t it!?”

Leviathan’s face was red, but he looked otherwise rather deadpan. He gave no response, but instead walked right past his younger brothers and the nephilim. It was a curious reaction to both Lena and Satan. She assumed he just wasn’t a morning person.The three followed after Leviathan downstairs to the dining room table.

 It was Mammon’s day for cooking. He’d gone the waffle route, making it quick and easy. The was beast bacon, hellfire bumble bee syrup, and fresh fruits of The Devildom. “You guys are gonna spoil me with all this delicious food.” She chimed and gave her compliments to “Chef Big Money Mammon” which caused him to blush and go tsundere on her.

“You don’t eat like this at your place?” Beelzebub asked, before swallowing what she was sure to be an entire waffle whole. 

Blinking for a second in disbelief, she quickly shook her head, “Nah, we had a cafeteria at Belmont. We’re too much in a hurry to enjoy a setdown meal in the mornings. Too many things to do on our agendas. That and Azriel forbids sugary foods, especially during the most important meal of the day.”

“There’s only one important meal?” Beel asked, swallowing even more food.

Lilly laughed, “I told you we believe breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It sets your energy and mood.” Lena nodded as she began to take her seat.

‘Oh Lena, Darling,” Asmo chimed, “I might have to agree with your brother about eating too much sugar at breakfast. Your skin is so soft and smooth…..(paused for effect), I don’t want you to get any acne flare-ups. Especially after I spoil you with the latest line from Majolish.”

Okay, the sneaky 5th brother was really having some fun with his implications. Though everyone really did jump to conclusions quickly. And what made things even more suspicious was the way Lena didn’t react to him or get embarrassed.

“Today, Asmo DARLING, I will make an exception to the dietary rules thwarted upon me.” she replied, “Mammon took time to fix me a plate and I intend on enjoying it. Besides, it’s a part of my learning experience. Cuisine speaks volumes for culture anywhere you go.”

The second eldest brother couldn’t help but smile to himself at the appreciation for the food he made. It was unexpected coming from a stranger. “Yeah, don’t waste that food. I got up early to get it ready!”

There were jokes flying around the room about ‘chef Mammon’ with a lot of laughter. Even Belphegor, who was still in sulk mode, took the time to thank him for ‘slaving over the waffle iron’ for everyone. The only one that didn’t seem to joke around was Leviathan. He was quietly focusing on his phone as usual.

“Enough, everyone. It’s time to leave.” Lucifer announced. There were a few sighs that followed. Beelzebub quickly crammed as much as he could in his mouth as his twin began to push him towards the exit. “Beel, you should be good til lunch…” he murmured sleepily.

Lena was actually excited to share her first night experiences with her brothers and learn about how they fared. She didn’t text them anything besides ‘good night lub you!’. She’d rather see the expressions on their faces.

~

On the way to the Academy, Lena walked up beside the 3rd eldest; her ‘keeper’ she decided to call him. “Hey, are you playing the same Otome today?”

Leviathan froze for a moment, then continued to play. “No, I’m playing an action RPG…” He didn’t seem enthusiastic, nor did he seem focused on the game either. It puzzled Lena, so she kept on with the conversation, “I like those. The Marvel Alliance is my favorite.” 

She could see a struggle in him. It was like he wanted to ask about it, but held back. What was his deal? Since he wanted to know, obviously, she went ahead and continued, “So it's all of the characters in the whole Marvel universe. It’s random what good guy characters or bad guys you get, but you draw random ones, build your team that are good against certain types of enemies, and level em up. It’s got decent story lines, and it’s cool you can play as bad guys too...it’s just. I really hate the ‘pay to play’ games that get you into gambling away your money for the characters you want.”

He glanced at Lena out of the corner of his eyes as she spoke. She really was the only person he knew that could ramble on about games like he could. Well not as much as him. He was the king otaku here after all. 

“Are you by chance upset with me?” Lena asked, “I figured you’d at least share your opinion of the whole pay-to-play thing…” she had a tuition for these things and hated feeling awkward around people, especially ones she’d be around a lot. 

At first Leviathan was going to dodge her question, then Asmodeus called to the nephilim to ‘hurry up’ to walk with him. It made him grit his teeth. “NO! Why would a shut-in otaku care about a 3D girl getting a little cozy with Asmo!?” He shouted at Lena and stormed on ahead of  everyone.

Lena felt the eyes upon her. Not only did the fellow House of Lamentation members look at her for answers, but other RAD students gathering about the school grounds who witnessed the scene as well.

The nephilim facepalmed as Lilly joined her at one side, with Asmodeus at the other. “What was that all about?”