Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Mulock vs Troublesome Human Emotions

Author's Note: I'm gonna be at NYCC this weekend so I can't update Friday, so please enjoy this update a few days early :D  Also, happy 69th episode everyone, haha. 

"I still think it's a terrible idea," Mulock muttered for about the seventh time that week.

The demon sat across from Wheeler, one arm lazily draped over the back of the worn velvet loveseat in the Vivok's parlor.

The twins had given them a little insight into what the Festival of the Raven actually was. Allegedly it was a celebration every spring named for the strange behavior of the local birds on the day it occurred. Needless to say that between the cryptic description and Arlo's words, Mulock wasn't exactly thrilled about Wheeler attending.

"I'll be fine," Wheeler said, looking down at his hands. "You know I can defend myself. Besides, you and Priscilla will be with me the entire time."

"Regardless, you're still putting yourself at risk," Mulock snapped.

"And I'm fine with that," Wheeler countered. "If it means I can help the people of this village then I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"Why?" Mulock shot back. "You hardly know them. If you go missing next they'll just blame it on the wolves and never give you a second thought."

"Well if we don't help them then who will?" Wheeler said sharply. "We're the only ones with the training and power to actually do something. That's why the Vivoks sent for us; we're their only hope."

Wheeler had never used such a tone with him. Mulock swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to the floor. "And what if you get killed in the process?" he asked flatly. "You sacrificed your own soul for these powers. You worked yourself to the bone to perfect them. And for what? To potentially end up dead before you even reach your goal?"

"Mully," Wheeler said softly. Despite the gentleness in his voice, his tone was firm. "What's the point of being powerful if I only use it for myself?"

The words hit their mark. Any further argument Mulock had died in his throat despite how desperately he didn't want his human to go.

Wheeler's gaze was confident, burning with the sincerity of his words. Watching him, the demon felt a dangerous flutter of something deep within his chest.

"Hey, Wheeler! Look at this!" Their attention snapped to the parlor door where Lilith had appeared. In her hands she carried a large birdhouse. It was intricately decorated with deep blue tiles adorning its roof and thin vines and flowers painted up the side.

"What do you think?" she asked excitedly. "We just had it laying around so I thought maybe we could turn it into a little house for Mister Pumpernickel."

"Woah!" Wheeler gasped. "That's an amazing idea!"

Lilith plopped herself down beside Wheeler, holding out the house for him to get a better look. "I thought maybe we could add a tiny pillow for him on the inside, maybe a water bowl too."

"Ohmygosh, he'd love that!"

The two continued chippering on about the toad's new home, giggling and smiling all while looking surprisingly perfect together. The thought made Mulock's chest feel tight but he ignored it. This was good. This was a good thing. Wheeler had grown up, of course it was only natural he'd fall for a girl as pretty as Lilith. He deserved someone like that. A good person who was kind and caring and could give him her heart without a second thought.

Someone everything Mulock wasn't.

The demon immediately shook his head, having no idea where that final thought had come from.

Wheeler was grinning at something Lilith had said now. He looked happy. That's all that mattered to Mulock.

The demon sighed heavily, hating the fact that despite this, he still felt absolutely miserable.

Slowly Mulock rose to his feet, desperately needing to get out of there before the tightness in his chest became unbearable.

"I'm going back to our room," he announced flatly.

"Okay," Wheeler replied, cheerful as always. "I'll see you soon!"

Mulock gave him a stiff nod before quickly slipping out of the parlor.

The demon soon found himself aimlessly wandering through the halls of the rotting Vivok estate, all in a futile attempt to clear his head.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was a demon - so why was he indulging in these horrible human emotions?

He'd just have to try even harder to crush them for good.

Lost in his own thoughts, Mulock hadn't realized just how far he'd wandered until he noticed a massive oaken door. He recognized it instantly despite the fact that it had been nearly two months since he'd last seen it. The door to the count's room felt like a dark splotch against the already eerie house.

Mulock immediately turned away. He'd been warned to stay away from that door and there was no way in hell he was stupid enough to stay there a moment longer. As he moved to go however, the demon froze at the feeling of a cold, bony hand gripping his shoulder.

"You," a hoarse voice whispered from behind him. "You're actually real?"

"Yeah," Mulock replied flatly, trying to keep the panic from his voice. "And you're actually a real creep. Let go of me."

He tried to shake him off, but the man's grip was iron tight.

"I see so many things nowadays it's gotten hard to tell," the voice rasped. "But here you really are, standing before me in the flesh." His hold on Mulock tightened, long nails biting sharply into the demon's shoulder. "I've waited for you for so long."

And with those words, Mulock suddenly found himself being dragged backwards towards the door to the count's room.