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magiirealism · 5 days

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Encounter

Little establishing drabble for Emil and Iovita! Prompt from here.

While those who passed him by huddled down into their coats while their thick, woollen beanies hid the tops of their heads from sight, the demon required no such thing. He had never been one to feel the cold; some who dared to raise their heads to the bitter cold touch stared in amazement as they saw the man without so much as a shirt pass them by - though perhaps they also stared at the various tattoos, scars and brands about his torso or just due to the fact that they had never seen a man so beautiful nor brazen in their life.

(Every pair of eyes on him only inflated his ego further.)

Lights emanated from various buildings: clubs, pubs, bars and hotels which were open into the early hours of the morning, bringing light to a city which would otherwise only see the light of the moon and the stars until the sun peeked over the horizon. One of these establishments was his own Brimstone, a club from which he had already walked quite far.

As much as he loved the business which he had built from the ground up, it was difficult to resist the urge to see what else was happening about the city, what other characters populated its streets on any given night.

‘Halt, demon.’

Not even 10 minutes on the streets and it seemed like he’d already found someone of interest.

Emil looked in the direction of the voice, making no effort to turn his body also.

Standing outside the Hotel Triumph, some distance from the porte-cochere, was an individual near as tall as he was, and that’s where the similarities ended.

Theirs was hair of flowing blond, swept behind their back so that their pointed ears were revealed to all. Though Emil’s eyes were crimson in colour and comparable to a feline, he was at least capable of blending in; this individual had eyes of pure green, their pupils and irises different shades to what would typically be the whites of their eyes, beneath which a second set of eyes were being held firmly shut. They held a wooden staff - currently held out as though to stop Emil in his approach - and wore robes of white, though none of this was the strangest part of their appearance, for a halo made of light circled their head and sets of wings grew from their back.

Damn angels were lucky playing dress up seemed to have become popular among some humans as of late.

‘This business is the property of the Heavens; only angels and well-meaning humans are allowed on or near the premises.’

Emil smirked.

You needn’t be so hasty, he thought.

‘And if I decided not to heed your words of warning?’ he asked instead. Emil stepped towards the angel, who did nothing as much as flinch away, and put a finger beneath the staff. He tilted it upwards and inspected the emerald - or so it seemed to be - which adorned the end of the twisting, decorative wood. ‘If I were to instead set foot inside your establishment, what would you do then?’

‘Then I would have no choice but to obliterate you. None would think anything of one missing from your ranks.’

Emil laughed. The deep chuckle would be enough to make most think twice. Not this one, apparently. ‘Obliterate me? Do you have any idea who I am?’

The angel scowled.

How unbecoming.

Emil smirked.

‘You are a foul beast born of the depths of Hell. You have no place anywhere other than burning in the fires out of which you crawled.’

‘Ouch,’ said Emil sarcastically. ‘I will tell you who I am, so that you might boast later to your angel companions - if your kind are capable of something such as boasting - or rather, give them a warning when you crawl back to your home for assistance.

‘I am known as Aemilius Selvaggio, second of my name, Demon Prince of Treachery - the deepest circle of Hell, if you are so uninformed.’

‘I did not ask for your life story,’ the angel sneered. ‘I warned you to leave if you value your life.’

‘You do not understand, do you, angel?’ Emil knocked the staff away - not hard enough so the angel was no longer in possession of it - and stepped towards its owner, close enough as to take their chin in his hand, long nails wrapping about their chin as he looked down upon them. ‘Many demons fight and kill to find their position in a royal family. They will go so far as to kill newly born imps to get what they desire. I required no such thing. I was born into my role, beating back and taking the lives of my adversaries, of my very own brothers and sisters, to become the next in line for the throne.

‘I am not any demon, angel.’ Emil’s nails dug into their skin, sharpened fangs on display as he smirked. ‘I am the strongest demon alive.’

‘A demon is naught but an angel with his power revoked,’ retorted the angel. ‘Even the strongest of demons has but a fraction of the power of a guardian of Heaven.’

‘A guardian of Heaven? Is that what you claim to be?’ Emil then feigned hurt as he said, ‘And you didn’t even give me your name with your introduction.’

‘I am as much a guardian of Heaven as you are a Prince of Treachery. As for my name, I owe you no such thing - I am sure you would only aim to use it against me.’

And as though with perfect timing, a man called from the hotel side of the porte-cochere, ‘Iovita, would you mind giving us a hand?’

Again, the angel scowled.

‘Well, Iovita,’ said Emil as he let go of the angel, ‘it seems you have a busy night. It would be terribly cruel to keep you from your business, would it not? Oh, and you need not worry about me; I simply run a nightclub down the road. Come by Brimstone if you ever decide you need to… let loose.’

‘Not in your dreams,’ Iovita replied through gritted teeth. ‘And demon, I want to make sure you are aware of this: if you ever return to this place, if you attempt to set foot in the Hotel Triumph, I will kill you.’

Emil smiled.

He waved back to Iovita.

‘I look forward to it.’

#read my writing or else

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magiirealism · 5 days

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A good trope: confident characters getting flustered by their love interest

#sh: emil & iovita #iovita 100% getting flustered when emil gets all close and dmlmv

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magiirealism · 6 days