The Devil's Beloved, an MM Fantasy Romance (part two)
An Angel/Demon MM Romance
Welcome back, dear readers! Today I will continue the story of how Satan found his true love in the form of an enchanting angel of wrath.
However, before continuing, I have an update on my efforts to obtain the ingredients for mother's fabulous cookie recipe. Blarg spent the night trying to find human-world analogs for items on the list, and may have figured out how to replace chimera spice, a flavoring made from a tuft of hair pulled directly from the animal (for those unfamiliar with the species, it’s a rather large, fierce creature with three heads: that of a roaring lion, a venomous snake, and a fire-breathing goat).
The lion's mane of a chimera can be dried and ground into a marvelously warming, spicy additive. However, there are only 7 known chimeras in all the nether realms. Because they are an endangered species, procuring the spice requires subduing the beast in a way where it can safely be released afterwards.
The problem here- other than the obvious matter of fending off a chomping lion, striking serpent and flaming goat mouth all at once- is that the chimeras have learned how to get around all the hunters who keep trying to catch them. The ancient scrolls speak of a time when an enchanted net was enough to get the job done, but alas, they've long since figured that one out. My best goblin engineers have tried to devise all manner of elaborate traps, but to no avail.
After I described the flavor to Blarg, he said it reminded him of something called "pumpkin spice". I don't know much about pumpkins, but since this spice is quite widespread in your world, I can only assume they're far easier to catch.
When I asked what he’d found as far as dragon eggs, he had the sheer audacity to suggest I substitute BIRD eggs of all things. I pointed out to Blarg that a bird egg lacks the density found in that of a dragon egg and has a higher fat-to-protein ratio. The appeal of dragon eggs is that their reptilian composition produces a richer cookie dough. He responded with that annoyed expression he so often sends my way.
You should be grateful, Blarg. If it weren't for my need of a bodyguard, you'd be stuck back home with the other orcs, engaging in witty banter with the likes of FaceSmash and StompGut-
What was that, Blarg?
He just made a comment about how I should acquire reptile eggs if I'm so-
Wait, that's a wonderful idea! Blarg, where might one purchase such an item?!
He's scrolling on his iPad with that dainty little stylus. I'll pass the time waiting on him by continuing our tale of Hellish romance...
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When he'd finished his task, Tzyeriel turned away from the whimpering Rosier. The Seraphim smiled warmly and said,
"Your cooperation is appreciated. I must admit, I've had quite a delightful time." Their eyes met, locking in a moment of intense connection that seemed to stretch on for eternity. A myriad of thoughts and emotions raced through Satan’s mind, until he found himself saying,
"You don't have to leave right away. I’ve greatly enjoyed your company. Perhaps we both require a bit of respite from our duties. Would you care to spend a little time with me in my palace?" Tzyeriel considered the offer, shrugged, and replied,
"Oh, why not? What's the harm? I find it quite a pleasure to be around you."
The intoxicating pull of Tzyeriel's loveliness warred against the cold, unyielding grip of Satan's heart. He knew the whole thing was probably a bad idea, and that it would be better to send the Seraphim on his way, but the temptation to bask in the angel's presence was simply too great.
They returned to the palace. Satan ordered a jug of Hell's finest wine, and the pair sat down together on the balcony. Satan poured them each a glass in ornate obsidian goblets. When he offered the wine to Tzyeriel, the Seraphim said,
"Oh, my kind are not supposed to drink." Satan asked,
"Why not?" The angel puzzled over the question and answered,
"I'm not really sure..." He watched Satan take a large gulp, and asked- "Is it good?" The infernal prince responded,
"It's absolutely delectable." He drank some more. Tzyeriel said,
"I suppose one glass couldn't hurt. After all, I don't want to be impolite." He took a small sip from his goblet. His eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "Oh my goodness, it’s delicious!" He gulped down the wine as if he were a thirsty man trapped in a desert. Satan stared at him, not sure how to respond. Tzyeriel wiped his mouth, raised his glass, and asked,
"May I have another?" Satan nodded as he poured his guest another drink. Tzyeriel heartily downed his second glass. Trying not to look like a lightweight, Satan quickly drank the contents of his own goblet and poured himself another cup.
Several bottles later, they were both rather tipsy. Somehow, they got it into their heads that it would be a grand idea to mess with Charon, the boatman who ferried the souls of the condemned to the gates of Hell. They stumbled their way down to the docks, and upon finding him, shouted,
"Heeyy, we wanna lift!" Charon, confused, replied,
"My good sirs, you are angels- can you not fly? This ferry is only meant for the dead." Satan wobbled over to him, drunkenly shouting,
"I wanna party boat, my gueshh-" he pointed at Tzyeriel,- "hee’sh goin’ with ME!" The angels erupted into peals of inebriated laughter. Charon grimaced as he let them onto his raft. He pushed against the banks of the murky river with his pole, and off they went.
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Wonderful news, my esteemed audience! Blarg has alerted me to a place where I might purchase a dragon! Even more exciting, he's found a breed that doesn't breathe fire or hoard treasure! What a relief, an apartment fire would be bad enough, but just imagine how irritating it would be, having the neighbors constantly complaining about their jewelry being pilfered so a local dragon could glamorize its nest.
I’m off to the pet shop! There will be a full report upon my return.
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I’ve done it; I finally have a... well, I suppose what one could technically call her a dragon…
Oh yes, I'm getting ahead of myself, here's what happened: I traveled with Blarg to a specific address. He wanted to stay behind to catch up on a deadline, but I insisted he come along so his magical glowing box could give us directions. After about a mile of walking, we entered an establishment full of the sorts of animals kept by city-dwellers.
I explained to the attendant behind the counter that I wished to procure a female bearded dragon. Blarg's research indicated the species has clutches of 15-20 eggs at a time, and lays regardless of whether or not they've mated.
I was rather surprised by how small these dragons are. The one shown to us was only a foot long from head to tail, but I suppose the large number of eggs might make up for that.
Unfortunately, when I explained that I was buying the dragon to use her eggs in a recipe, the shopkeepers became upset and told us to leave the premises. Blarg and I had no choice but to tread through the many graffiti-covered backstreets in search of another shop.
I suggested we rent a pair of scooters, but Blarg was far too large to ride such contraptions, so it took us a good couple of hours to reach the next establishment. This time, when I made my inquiry, I refrained from mentioning my culinary intent.
The apartment is now home to a dragon named Agatha, as suggested by my subscriber, Mark. The attendant was insistent that we buy a UVB heat lamp and provide her with a space. We've proceeded to dragon-proof the apartment by stowing away all the bladed weapons in the cupboards. With any luck, she'll be laying soon, and I'll be one step closer to recreating mother's recipe.
A good night to you all. I shall continue my tale in the next post.