➤ COMPLETED
"You are made of dreams.
You belong to me."
"I belong to no one but myself."
"We'll see."
-
Diagnosed with a false condition called hypersomnia, Lolita has to choose between
two realms and face the most important question of all: Wil...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I bring pleasant news, Morningstar." It was Desire who moved through the greedy gates of Hell, watching as its fire started burning in the darkness of suffering souls.
"I hadn't anticipated much." A angelic voice called for its guest. A tall figure appeared between its black marble pillars, sucking up most the light left to shine upon the partners in obvious crime.
"Our creation is already rotting in its personal cell of bones, I was informed?" Desire had a sly smile spread out on its red bloody lips, white teeth shining brighter than the lit flames.
"She may be half-dream, but she's half-demon as well. She suffers the same as all of my people do." Lucifer Morningstar stepped towards the open balcony, her gaze lowering to her demons heavy roars. She let her hand rise, delicately, as if she wasn't ruler of all this blood and sin.
Desire followed the eyes of Satan, the crowds punching their fists against the air, acknowledging their sovereigns victory over an endless. Lucifer Morningstar couldn't yet ruin Dream while the universe depended on him, but she could challenge him as much as she longed.
"You think it smart to keep her down there? Between your unnatural sinners?" The fallen Angel shook her golden curls in response, her wings shivering in excitement.
"The girl we created to let Dream suffer of loss, she is as natural as my demons are. As pure as them." Which was not pure at all. Nor natural.
"I must say, all your great ideas had disappointed the both of us over the course of those past thousand years." Desire narrowed its eyes to mere slits, remembering the obvious insult. Though they were smart enough not to comment any further on it.
"The Orb. The Vortex. All of it, a failure." Satan chuckled manically, clasping her palms together loud enough for Mazikeen of the Lilim to jump at the far corner of the right. Desire hadn't even noticed Satan's assistant standing besides them, watching.
"Now," Desire finally stepped in, but was silenced over the moment Lucifer raised her bloody red nails. "Do not now me. All of your plans, they ended in chaos, but only for our side." She leaned against the marble green desk, her beautiful blood-red gown floating down her statue like lava during an eruption.
"Not this time," Desire pressed between gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to turn against the Ruler of Hell as well. Against all of the things that stood before its own desires.
But they couldn't turn against all and everyone, or they'd end up with nothing. "She was perfect to him. Dangerous, yet fascinating and calm at heart. That's why we took her from that little twat."
Mazikeen raised her one remaining eyebrow in the far corner of the hall, surprised her sovereign would use a word like twat.
"It was a marvelous idea," Desire suppressed to say that it had only been their idea alone, "To send one of your pretty Demons down the woman's dreams." They looked over their own long, crystal nails. "Creating a little demon and a little dream."
