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myselfinserts · 5 years

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“Have you ever paid $15 to be knighted by a guy pretending to be a king?”

A quiet evening in the back pub. Three people who knew each other better than they knew themselves. A demon hero, a high ranked angel, and a fallen sat there in a bar.

Sounded like the beginning to a bad stand-up act.

“So this information,’ Ceri said between sips of wine. “It’s legit?”

Inkwell gasped, feigning shock. “How vile are you to doubt me?”

“I can vouch for him,” Skylar laughed. “I ran the info by my people. This is legit.”

Ceri smiled, pouring them all another round of Haunted Royal’s Blood. “And you’re certain the announcement is going to happen tomorrow?”

“High noon good ol’ Paris time, worldwide on the hijacked Holy Channels.”

“Thank you both for the heads up. I’m sure the others will be happy to know about this.”

Inkwell snickered. “We’re sticking our necks out for you here and you have the gall to have your wings out?”

“My pub, my rules. I get to stretch.”

Skylar smiled fondly, lightly petting the feathers. “Your wings were always so lovely.”

“No flirting with the married man, you fuckin’ Reaper.” Inkwell held up the photograph, the smirk on his lips making it clear this wasn’t a freebie. “Now, about that price-”

Ceri shrugged. “I’d have thought a share in the knighthood would suffice.”

“Please. Have you ever paid $15 to be knighted by a guy pretending to be a king? That’s what my connection to the Demon King himself feels like. Now take a look here.” He set the photo on the table, giving it a light tap.

“This is what the Prince is supposed to look like now. We don’t know for sure since he was snatched as a weean. Psychics can only get us so far. ”

Ceri and Skylar nearly swooned. “Handsome royal,” they said in unison.

“Yeah, well, you little disasters can flirt all you want if you find him.”

Ceri observed the photo closely. Because it wasn’t taken with normal means, his quirk didn’t work on it. A downside to compatibilia he couldn’t fortell. “So what else besides knighthood is the Demon King offering in exchange for his child?”

Skylar shrugged, finishing his wine. “Knighthood, wealth, a free wish, and a chance at becoming one of the high ranks of the Demon Court.”

“Sounds lame.”

Inkwell laughed, grabbing the bottle and throwing a wad of cash on the table. “I don’t think you realize how hard it actually is to get into the Demon Court. Only one other person besides myself has managed to do it in the last two hundred years, and they got axed by an Angel last week.”

“Well now.” Ceri smirked. “What is it that makes the Demon Court so special.”

“Essentially, it makes you and your future descendants contenders for the throne, Skylar explained. “The thing is, there’s only two other families who meet that qualification. The Alberis, and the Talbots. But the Talbots are dead, so that leaves Inkwell.”

“And not to put a downer on anyone wanting me to put in the royal coup, but I’m not interested in the throne.” Inkwell smiled and downed the entire bottle. “I’m just wanting to see if you’d be interested in joining the hunt.”

“I’ve got my duties,” Skylar sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t take the time off.”

“I might be able to talk my love into considering it,” Ceri said. “A chance at the Demon Throne? He probably won’t be interested, but getting a head start and having the chance to wipe the smug look off some of those asses faces would be nice.”

Inkwell leaned in close, letting out a slight hiccup from the wine. “You know what else being part of the Demon Court gets you?” He smirked. “It gets you your own realm in Hell to rule.” He held up the bottle, watching as seven inky roses grew from the top. “King of Hell gave me one of the the realms of Demonic Creation. King of the Hell Garden, that’s what I am. The one responsible for deadly plants and creatures. Very fitting of my powers.”

“Do we get to choose?” Skylar asked.

“Not usually. But...If you’re really good at what you do, he’ll definitely take your wishes into consideration.”

Ceri smiled. “Now that might be something to look forward to.

Ceri returned home late that night. A little tipsy, but otherwise sane. He stumbled into the house and sat on the couch, giggling as he set the photo on the coffee table.

“I can hear you, you know.”

“My sunlight,” Ceri called. “Come here. I wanna talk.”

Étienne walked into the living room, tea in hand as he curled up beside him. “What is it now, you love drunk fool?”

“You’re pretty.”

“You’re pathetically drunk.”

“You could be a King.”

“Okay,” he sighed, making him lay down with his had on his lap. “You’re seriously dead drunk.”

Ceri giggled, nuzzling into his stomach. “Inkwell and Sky told me you could be the Demon King. Or at least have a realm of Demonic Creation, you smart, beautiful creative bastard.”

“You’ve been at the Haunted Royal again.”

“No, no, no-okay, yes, but listen,” Ceri whispered, sitting up and adjusting himself, wrapping his arms around his lover’s shoulders. “The Demon King is looking for his child. Gonna hold a reward. You could get all kinds of fame and glory to hold over the assholes who don’t appreciate what a sexy demon you are.”

Étienne shook his head, lightly playing with Ceri’s hair and kissing him on the cheek. “How about we talk about this in the morning when you’re sober?”

Ceri let out a content hum and nodded. “Okay.” He let out a sigh. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

“I love you too. Now go to bed.”

#myselfinserts #mybnhaocs #friends ocs #class of aus: Angels and Demons #I had an itch to scratch #Anonymous

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