Damon Salvatore Imagines

Of Angels and Demons

King of Hell AU

Damon watched expressionlessly as three of his demons dropped a bundle to the ground and stepped back. His eyes drank in the sight on the floor greedily, almost reverently. It's been a long while since he's seen an angel.

Oh and she was such a fascinating little thing too.

Though forced to kneel, her eyes, the set of her jaw, the clenched fists at her sides all screamed defiance. She was bruised and bloody, something that made him frown, and her clothes were tattered and filthy. But she was brimming with energy, almost shaking with it.

As he rose from his throne and made his way over one of the demons spoke up "It's her Milord. She's the sacrifice. She's been hiding for the past month, right here in our realm. Though how that is even possible is beyond me"

Ah. The missing sacrifice. His dear little brother, Stefan, had offered him one of the fifty angels that served under him, as a white flag to stop the war that had been going on for decades now. There had been casualties on both sides, though considerably more on Stefan's than his own. The war was at a place where Damon's forces were at an obvious advantage. A month ago, Stefan had offered to concede parts of his realm and one of his angels to Damon and call a ceasefire.

The offer had made him scoff in disbelief. All their talk of righteousness and honor and yet here they were, willing to offer up one of their own as a lamb for slaughter, just to save their own hides. The ceremony had taken place and the girl was pushed through the Gates of Hell. He had waited to receive her, prepared to make arrangements for her to live out the rest of her immortal life in solitary and forget about her. However, she never showed up where she was supposed to. Though he had felt the soul enter his land, neither he nor his army of demons had been able to locate her. He'd been almost ready to consider foul play from his brother.

Dropping to his knees before her, he raised her chin gently to meet his gaze. Even knelt as he was, he still towered over her frame. She didn't flinch at his touch and she met his eyes steadily, refusing to look away. He held back a delighted coo.

"You've been missing for a month, little one. However did you achieve that?" he asked softly, his finger stroking her jaw. She didn't respond but a flash of arrogance went over her, her lips twitching slightly. He could feel a smirk pulling at his own lips. 

Ah. The little kitten had claws. Beautiful.

"Well that was awfully clever of you, wasn't it?" moving his eyes behind her, he tried to remember name of the demons that had bought his treasure to him. He supposed they should be rewarded. Although, he thought as he scanned her once again, given the state of her, maybe not.

Shrugging out of his heavy cloak, he placed it carefully around her shoulders, ignoring the audible gasp that ran through his court. His Cloak was one of his most prized possessions, seeped in ancient magic. It was made of the feathers of the True Angels, first of the their kind, plucked after their death. It felt almost blasphemous, adorning her in it. It has long since been a part of his legend, one of the few things he considered sacred.

But, he thought, as he gazed down at her, blinking up at him in surprise, some things are more precious in this world.
Perhaps this could be the start of a new legend.

The magic of the Cloak sunk into her skin, and he could hear her audibly suck in a breath. Raising her arms she watched in disbelief as her bruised skin healed itself, skin sealing over the cuts. Where she had been bruised and tired just a minute ago, she was practically bathed in health now, brimming with life. She touched her face, and turned her eyes back to his, her expression guarded.

"Lockwood" he said "where did you find her?"

"By the Black Lake" he responded eagerly, shoving the other two behind, "I could smell her blood, angel blood, once I got close enough"

"So you knew she belonged to me then?" he asked, his voice deathly casual. Silence followed his question. Lockwood looked a little worried, opening and closing his mouth uncertainly.

"You knew she belonged to me and yet you touched her? The blood on her dress is recent"

He didn't wait to hear whatever explanation the pitiful idiot would come up with. Flicking his finger, he turned all three of them to dust, without breaking his eye contact with her. Rising, he offered his hand to her, a silent command. He didn't like the sight of her kneeling, he decided, not like this anyway. The only way he wanted to see her on her knees was when she did it, willing and naked, in the middle of his bed, eagerly awaiting his touch. In his court, he wanted her beside him, standing tall. 

What a twisted joke it would be, on his brother. He thought he had done something so clever, sending his weakest angel to him, thinking he'd sent her a prisoner he'd lock away forever, suffering no losses on his side. How ironical would it be if instead he had sent her his Queen.

The girl was no prisoner. She didn't cower, she didn't beg and she certainly didn't wait around. He had no idea how she had managed to protect herself the past month, it was supposed to be impossible. But she did. She must have been terrified, here in his realm. He wasn't ignorant to how he and his were demonized up there. No doubt she had been prepared for an endless amount of pain and torture, expecting to be raped or killed any second. He knew what being scared out of your wits every time you took a breath did to a person, he'd gone through it himself. Not only had his little angel survived in a dangerous foreign realm, she had looked him in the eye without flinching. Him, who must have been the villain of every single story she'd ever heard. 

He felt a flash of rage go through his body, at his brother, at the angels, at all of them. They raised the girl on horror stories and then shoved her right into them. Some heroes.

"What's your name?" he asked, his hand still outstretched. She made no move to take his hand, though he could see her clenching around the feathers of his Cloak.

"Y/N" she said, loud and clear. So brave, so precious.

"Fitting" he smiled. "Well, Y/N, may I have the honor of escorting you to your room? We have much to discuss"

He knew, he had a long way to go. This would not be easy. He would have to chip away years of hatred, fear and stigma. Then he'd have to train her in all the arts of combat, magic and warfare. But he would do it all with pleasure. Because once he was done, oh she wouldn't just be the abandoned angel she is right now. She would be his, his Queen, at his side till the end of time. 

She would be glorious. 

But she had to take the first step. And she would. He had no doubt she would. She had nothing to lose and she knew that. She had trusted his brother and it had gotten her here. Now, caught as she was, she knew he would never let her go. Either she take the bull by the horns or surrender herself to the unknown. And she wasn't made to surrender.

Taking a deep breath, she took his hand.

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Alright, alright. The undead rises. Miracles never cease.

First of all, I hope everyone is okay, and safe and handling the pandemic responsibly. Take care of yourselves people, and wear a mask. It's not that hard.

Second of all, shout out to all of you actual angels who take out the time to not only comment but DM me their love. You are the reason my writers block took a backseat today and I churned this out in a spurge of inspiration. 

Finally, thank you for all your love and support. Inspiration has been scarce for the past year and I will forever be grateful to all of you. Hope you liked this chapter.  This is dedicated to every single one of you, the true angels.