A Soul Pure and Passionate

The Devildom Sky looks the same as always. That isn’t to say that the sky isn’t a perpetual glittering beauty with the stars dancing in sync in the sky. Simply to say that the same beautiful dance over the eons can get tiring and on a day like today, it can be lonely to watch as the stars have each other in their intricate dance while Simeon, himself is alone. Luke is in the Celestial Realm, probably anxiously giving a presentation on his time in The Devildom to Michael. At the same time, Solomon is off investigating something of import in The Human Realm. Simeon himself has no more titles. He had given up whatever positions he had in order to save people that were far more valuable than the ego that he would have to be beholden to in order to keep his position and immortality.

He looks up, grateful for the ones he has saved and the ones who are often around him. The love he feels for them is as deep and enduring, as he has been for all of his time. It is warm and kind and he often smiles thinking about it. None of them are around him tonight though. He desires companionship; however, he is not lonely for Solomon, Luke, Lucifer, or [Redacted]. None of them sound like the right person to him. He is craving something he can’t define, nostalgic for a passion he has never had. He has imagination, and can almost feel what it feels like to feel this spark breathing into a flame of exquisite passion. He can close his eyes and savor the salt on a skin he never tasted, but tonight his mind is screaming through his gentle demeanor with no one to hear him but the stars peering at him through the night sky.

The stars. Every romantic knows that a wish upon a star is a dream that will come true. Simeon is nothing if not a romantic. It truly feels foolish, no matter who you are though. He sighs. Time flows to midnight on what was the eve of his birthday a moment ago. It’s a day which he had stopped marking eons ago, as he was sure he was guaranteed an eternity of them. Now they are something fleeting and he knows he should see them as precious. Perhaps, next year he will. Tonight, his heart speaks to the stars of his deepest desires for that true romantic love. The rest of him is simply tired and wishes for a good long slumber in order to await the return of his wonderful, but exhausting dear ones. 

He finds his way back inside Purgatory Hall and into his room. He lays out his pajamas, and removes his intricate angel robes, which he wears sometimes despite the lack of duty to do so. He then goes to shower. He turns on the water, and in The Devildom it is hot enough for a human or an angel almost immediately. He lets the water run down from the top of his head, in droplets down his beautiful shoulders and back, glistening as they drag down his body for a few minutes while the existential dread that has become a constant companion of late is loud in his mind. He cleans his body and prepares himself for bed.

No one should be ready to celebrate his birthday until he wakes up and goes to find them himself. He had asked for a quiet morning from those who would listen as he knew his first mortal birthday would be something he would have trouble being joyful for until he has gathered strength. He does want to spend time with his fallen brethren after some moments of quiet contemplation. He is too tired to contemplate much more tonight. As his head hits the pillow,he falls into a deep slumber, hoping for beautiful dreams to distract him from the feelings that have taken up residence in his heart tonight.

A Heart Gentle and Loving

The world doesn’t feel right. Simeon’s body doesn’t feel right. He feels like he fell. He would wonder if he fell off of the bed, but his floor isn’t this hard and cold. It feels like stone. It feels like something out of a fairy tale, but in the worst possible way. Drip, drip, drip. No one knows where the dripping sound is coming from in these buildings made of stone, but it feels like it is always there making the building feel less maintained and cared for. There is also the issue of the crisp feeling of a breeze through the cracks of the stonework. Simeon slowly and loathingly wakes up to the unpleasantness he finds himself in.

There is some sort of sunlight streaming in. It would be the one thing that he would consider an upgrade of this situation, but for the fact he does not seek a world so bright when he is hoping to sleep. Angels simply learn to tolerate it. He sighs as he works his way to get up fully and look around. He sizes up the area trying to feel for some sort of door, a way out. He feels around the walls until he finds his way to a window. Judging from how small the tops of the trees look, he is in a very tall tower. He wants his wings. He isn’t sure if the hope to go home is in vain, but there’s an angst to the fact that he does not have the duty to soar out in search of a solution.

A solution! Suddenly, he sees three. They sit in fancy vials in front of him, beckoning him to drink with the intriguing way they glitter. One of them could be THE solution, but they all could also make everything much worse. There is nothing else to try at this point, and Simeon cannot see how anything could be worse. Should he drink all three at once or drink them one at a time? He chuckles as he considers the options. Looking at each bottle carefully, he notices the red one has an engraving, and it glitters more prominently. He picks up the red one and reads it out. “Fortune goes to the boldest.” He chuckles. “I’ve never been a timid angel, have I?” He uncorks and drinks it… FUUUUCCCKKK it didn’t look like Death’s Door, and it isn’t. It is only similar at first until taste buds fully registar what is happening. As the flavor lingers, it becomes a heat so strong that it only registers as a sharp and pungent bitterness. He sighs as he scowls at the bottle. “Bold… very clever.” 

Simeon might have doubts about trying any new mystery liquids after this one, but conversely he would try just about anything to get this powerful and awful flavor out of his mouth. The next one is a verdant green, reminiscent of the piney woods outside. Something about it sings of being cool and cleansing as a river cutting through a clearing. When he picks the vial up, there is a feeling it gives him that is hard to describe. It would be as though the feel of it in his hand is like the sound in one’s ear of someone humming a beautiful, resonating hymn to the angelic nature that resides within him. Despite the feel of his tongue, a smile lights his face as he reads the engraving. “Take hart, the ache will be soothed.” The typo makes him giggle, and the concept of soothing this ache is the truest momentary desire. He opens the vial and drinks all of the liquid in one gulp without hesitation. The feel of it was as promised. The taste on his tongue is gone. He closes his eyes, and he can almost hear the song and sound of the river. The feel of the beautiful forest and birds singing to him. He feels a magic move up his head and wrap around itself in a strange way. It seems to concentrate on each side of his head at the temple. There is a small ache, which becomes a pinch and a bit of a stab, and then the sensation of something growing. As he moves his fingers to feel it, there is a bony protrusion moving upward. He cannot feel the top of it, but he knows this sensation. Simeon’s head grows heavy and tries to bow, but he moves against this to stand up straight. Suddenly, the growing sensation ends, and the flavor from the first potion is only slightly lingering. Simeon giggles with more mirth than anyone would expect from someone in his plight as he feels his head as high up as he can. “These antlers are rather more majestic than I would expect. Oh, if only I could see how graceful and beautiful they are!” 

Simeon looks at the third potion with a smile. In its obsidian glittery blackness, he can see his reflection, and a hint at his horns. He doesn’t even notice the engraving at first as he picks up the bottle and tries to angle it so he can get a better look at them with the strongest exuberance he has felt in a couple of days. The bottle’s glitteriness is reflected in his eyes. He angles it to try and get it so he can see upwards. He sees a good amount of the antlers, but they are still so very tall! As he fights to not see way more up his nose than he would ever wish, he learns way more about selfie angles than he learned from trying to decipher Luke’s and Levi’s explanations. 

Once he has seen as much of his antlers as he can, he pays more attention to the bottle. It glitters the night sky, though when one has been in The Devildom for as long as he has, is it truly the night sky? The engraving suggests this with its message “A peaceful dream of fulfillment upon you.” He smiles as he thinks of Purgatory Hall, which feels so much more like home than he has felt in a while. He feels a sense of family and closeness there that he cannot deny with Luke who is like a son to him, and Solomon with whom he has developed a deep and profound friendship. Thinking about them makes him wish to go home, but there is something missing. There is something he never dared ask for. His lips ache. His heart aches. Both with the wish he feels too selfish to utter as his hands unconsciously fumble with the lid of the vial. He sits on the table, but it gives under him as he drinks the liquid from the vial. A peaceful sensation washes over him as he takes a deep breath, his body is overcome with the urge to lay down. How is this table so comfortable? It’s not even worth thinking about as his eyelids and body grow heavy. Nothing is really worth worrying about anymore…

Whispers of the Sleeping Paragon

Some time passes, and whispers of this paragon of beauty and his plight traveled on the wind far and wide throughout the kingdom he is located in and to other kingdoms. Some were true, but sounded utterly ridiculous. One pilgrim on her holy journey stumbled upon the tower and climbed up to find a beautiful man with antlers. The vows she had made caused her to turn around without looking at him much longer than it took to determine that. Some were utterly ridiculous, but sounded true. A farmer from a neighboring kingdom stumbling upon him had decided that he is definitely a prince of this realm who did this to himself to avoid a loveless marriage for his family’s political gain. 

There is one rumor. No one can trace its origin. Could it be a romantic bard who captured the imagination of the audience with a tail of magical forces conspiring to bring the truest and purest love to an unfortunate? Is it simply an inspired story sung so sweetly by someone hoping to touch another’s heart enough to get a room and a meal paid for? Did this bard captivate the whole audience who then whispered of the magical tale to others? Could it be that it is a known truth in the souls of all beings that love conquers all? It is hard to tell for sure, but everyone simply knows that The Paragon can only be awakened with True Love’s Kiss.

It was as though the tower was calling to all of those who would try to rescue him. Simeon would feel bad if he knew the number of people who tried to rescue him, whom he disappointed. Unfortunately or fortunately, true love is not the warmth and empathy that Simeon feels in his heart for all beings. He wouldn’t think about what he truly deserves if he was awake to decide. He wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone. However, another force has taken charge of this for him. It sings its songs into the hearts of romantics and performers seeking, reaching. Would this reach who it is meant to, or would it become a mere legend–lifeless in myths of history?

A World in Turmoil

The kingdom of Ael-Dornin is situated in a mountainous region rich with the mining of magical metals which they make into an alloy called mythrainium. The people of this region are warriors, and are constantly training for battle. Their prince Rafe, is nearly a weapon. They honor him with accolades about how cold and unfeeling he is. He keeps a stern face for them. He needs the people to respect him if they are to follow him to battle. What battle? There is no battle, but in case there ever is, no one could ever see him for who he truly is.

He puts his hand to a glass window, seeing a reflection there of a man who looks so somber. The flicker of life in his darkened blue eyes turning cold as the other option is to worry that the precision of murder is the only meaning to his life. He stands there with an ember left to warm him and inspire him. He holds a secret in his heart, and has held it ever since he heard of the Sleeping Paragon. He holds a hope that something about him that is not a weapon would be powerful. The very idea of being able to give True Love’s Kiss and to love and be loved. It is foreign to him, but deep in soul, it is what he wants. On the eve of another pointless battle with Pykwarth, Rafe of Ael-Dornin brings his fully metal spear and shined shield. He packs and saddles his reindeer in order to make his escape. He would not be there for the ambush tomorrow. All that was left behind was the footfalls of his reindeer.

Pykwarth sits next to the river, in the shadow of the mountains of Ael-Dornin. The people would live peacefully were it not for the constant attacks of their turbulent neighbors. The warriors of Pykwarth had to be constantly at the ready. Lately, the knights had to be constantly patrolling. Sir Tansat is known for his greatness in scholarly pursuits, but his kingdom needs defense. He was dismayed to find that when all must defend, he must give up his pursuits. He is no exception.

He rides his reindeer along the river that is part of their kingdom, trying to work out some intricacies of his research in his powerful mind and longing for the days he could rest and get lost in a fairy tale. He is armed with two swords, and defended with a shield which he painted a cat on. He removes his helmet and shakes out his long hair and his green eyes look into the reflection on his helmet. In them he can see the burden and privilege of nobility. He knows what it is to have an afternoon to while away reading. He has had the opportunity to pursue the education which gave him the skills to research. However, as a knight, he is Pykwarth's defense against the incursions of Ael-Dornin. 

He longs for the time when the two kingdoms didn't seem to exist as serpents wrapping around each other trying to find the way to eradicate each other. He longs for a time he could be left to his books, and whatever flight of fancy caught his mind. He has thought of The Sleeping Paragon, and longed for a time he could seek this romantic myth out. He sighs, knowing that it could never again be.

Tansat is quite lucky he took off his helmet, because in his peripherals, he sees something strange. With his quick mind he is able to put together the information he barely processed and know that he was looking at a warrior of Ael-Dornin. He moves back to high alert, looking around to figure out types, numbers, anything about the identity before sounding the alarm. Ael-Dornin likes to gather information about the strength of Pykwarth’s forces, and as a scholar, Tansat knows that it is best to be underestimated. Has Ael-Dornin figured this out, or… is this just one warrior? Tansat decides it is best to follow. If he falls into a trap, it is better to do so alone.

Rafe of Ael-Dornin travels through, certain he will not be bothered. No one can beat him in one-on-one combat, and very few could beat him at five-on-one combat. He is the most individually powerful warrior on the field. He has memorized their patrols, and only one would be at the river at this point. By the time they figured out what they needed to in order to mobilize to get there, he would be gone. The plan is cocky, but well thought out.

Tansat follows behind trying to figure out what this warrior of Ael-Dornin is doing, but he seems to be moving through the kingdom quickly. Curiouser and curiouser… He continues following the being, not knowing who he is or what his mission is. Only knowing that anything that a warrior of Ael-Dornin was doing should be tracked. He stays just out of view, just off the road as he follows behind.

Rafe can sense someone is following him, and it makes him smirk a bit. He whispers to himself (but loudly enough for Tansat to hear). “Oh, an adversary or adventurer? Who might this be?” He grips at his spear, ready for any response.

Tansat thought he had been quiet enough, but somehow the stranger had heard him. He noticed that the stranger grips his weapon. Sir Tansat grips the hilt of his sword ready to move in response if things go poorly. “That is dependent on what you are doing in my kingdom.” He keeps his body at the ready for the possible battle.

Rafe scowls and he turns himself and reindeer around. “So you are a warrior of Pykwarth?”

Tansat scowls back. “I am, and what business have you with my kingdom?”

“Just passing through, I have no interest in you or your kingdom today.” Rafe of Ael-Dornin speaks as though another being should be grateful for the respite. He wants the conversation to be over. He simply wants to get back to his quest for love and beauty.

Tansat took offense to this in the very core of his being. His home and country are at the mercy of someone who can just decide that they are some sort of entertainment today?! “We wish we could have such luxury as ‘no interest in your kingdom, but you are constantly on the offensive, invading us!” His nostrils flare, but the tactician knows he needs to force the other to make a mistake.

Rafe of Ael-Dornin sighs, knowing that battle is coming now. “It was a shame we didn’t get to know each other better. I simply seek to give True Love’s Kiss to The Sleeping Paragon.”

Sir Tansat is indignant. He has a duty. He has honor. He cannot just put himself on romantic missions. Or can he? He looks up and smiles. “I seem to have found some time to seek out this paragon as well! Perhaps I should ensure that he doesn’t have to suffer something so disgusting as a kiss from a foul invader such as you!” Satan draws his sword and charges straight on, but at the last possible moment guides his reindeer to leap left, as he draws his sword, then moves behind and slaps the back of Rafe’s armor.

Rafe chuckles. “So declared this a battle, and you got one shot on me. I guess it’s my turn now?” A smile crosses his face. He isn’t happy with just being a weapon, but this doesn’t mean he isn’t periodically happy with being well trained. He readies his spear and hops off his reindeer. In sync with that the reindeer hops to safety. Rafe faces the pointy end of the spear towards himself and smacks the reindeer with the blunt end, causing very little damage, but enough fear for the deer to run off. Tansat couldn’t keep hold, and was knocked off onto the ground. Rafe turned the spear around in a slick motion and it was at Satan’s neck. “I won’t kill you, but perhaps you should go home now!” Rafe said, flashing a smile that communicated a joy that is eerie given the circumstances. “You’ll find your deer fairly quickly if you can follow her tracks!” He calls to his and somehow mounts it with his eyes and spear trained on his enemy.

He is off very quickly as Tansat gets up and throws his helmet on the ground in idle frustration. He wasn’t going to go after the Paragon, but no one should have to kiss this embodiment of violence. He has to move quickly to save whatever ill-fated being this is. He is able to find and call to his reindeer very quickly. Shortly he is off to save The Paragon.

A Love Noble and True

Now that Tansat knows how far his enemy can see, he can hide and sneak around and follow this man. While he is certain that his enemy is not going to harm his country presently, the thought of him going after The Paragon unchallenged offended Tansat. Tansat’s offense needed to be placated. He, himself, must challenge the enemy and find his way to kiss the legend. If Tansat could save the Paragon, it would be all the better. If he could save The Paragon, he could gloat over his enemy… Wait, no. He tries to convince himself that it is competition with a rival nation, but that isn’t why he followed, and why he wants to kiss The Paragon. He lets his mind wonder over the idea of the beautiful lips he has heard this Paragon has. He has to admit, the idea of kissing him has become a powerful idea in his mind. He rode as he seemed to feel himself drawing closer and closer to… a goal. Is it the tower? Is it beaconing to him or is he just wishing upon a thought as he follows a flight of fancy? Somehow, he knows what direction to go, and he keeps going. He gets almost to the tower and looks to see that it is sunset.

Rafe of Ael-Dornin has been feeling a pull since he left his kingdom, maybe even before that as he has been feeling something for a while. He never once doubted while on his journey. He only follows the feeling. He can see the tower off in the distance, and he doesn’t need the feeling. Somehow, he knows that this is the tower he has been seeking. He licks his lips thinking about The Paragon, who he hopes to find true love with. He indicates that his reindeer should move faster with giddy excitement. It feels like he is both there in a flash and that it took far too long. He moves to the tower with speed and impatience. He gets to the entrance and somehow he sees the man he was fighting. He readies his spear as he did before as he speaks to the other. “Are you a rival suitor as well as an enemy then?” He never bothered to get the name of his fellow warrior. It didn’t seem important. At this moment, he wonders if that thought was folly.

Tansat’s eyes narrow as he sees more fully that he is talking to Prince Rafe of Ael-Dornin. “I wouldn’t be, except I had to follow the prince of invaders. I had to find out what you were doing. It couldn’t be something like searching for love.”

Rafe looks back, making it seem as though his face is unmoved by the other. “You are wrong. I am simply trying to find love, as any and all beings who have been lonely.”

It hit Tansat. He too had been lonely. He denied this to himself, as he did his duty. As he knew he was doomed to die to this losing cause of defending his homeland. He lets out a trembling sigh as all of the emotion of this epiphany washes over him. “Well, he’s my true love. So, you should go back to the war you started and leave us be. In fact, you should go home and end the war you started, then suffer the loneliness you deserve.”

Rafe looks at Tansat and blinks slowly. “I did not start the war. It isn’t that simple. I seek a way to end the war. I simply need the power to do so.”

They continue to argue like this as they walk up the stairs of the tower. They are fairly distracted, trying to argue their points as they come up to the entrance of the room and see him. His face while sleeping embodying the peace that they both came to realize they crave. His antlers adorning him so beautifully. He is perfection, and to look upon him makes one wish to be in his presence. The legends of The Paragon are true, and he deserves his true love. They spoke for a small moment and agreed to a truce, as fighting in front of him felt wrong. They feel the deepest and purest love and warmth in their hearts for him. 

This warmth only increases as they look upon the man. He slumbers so peacefully. Everything about him is clearly a blessing. Rafe becomes shy and looks at Tansat. “Perhaps you should kiss him first?”

Tansat nods in reply. “Someone should kiss him first.” He walks over and leans in to gently kiss Simeon on the cheek. A small moan escapes him. Tansat is hopeful for a moment that The Paragon would waken, but he doesn’t. Tansat looks dejected, but is somehow weirdly hopeful that Rafe could wake him.

Rafe clears his throat, knowing that the pressure is on him as he walks over and leans in to kiss the Paragon. His lips meet the man’s brow, to which there is a small stirring, but again he doesn’t waken.

They both look defeated and hold hands for a second before they begrudgingly remember they are enemies. At this point, they had both come to the conclusion that someone should wake him and show him the love he truly deserves. Rafe turns to Tansat and sighs. “It’s actually sadder that he is stuck like this than it is that neither one of us is his love.”

Tansat nods in agreement. “Perhaps we should kiss his hands as we leave? Perhaps he will feel it and know we care about him.” He takes one hand and waits for Rafe to take the other. They simultaneously give his hands gentle kisses then turn to walk away.

While their backs are turned, Simeon’s eyes flutter open and he yawns.  Then giggling, he greets them playfully. “Hey, which one of you handsome men kissed me?” On the spot both stopped and blushed.

Tansat clears his throat. “Well umm… we both kissed you individually, and that didn’t work…”

Rafe cuts him off. “Then we kissed you together and…are we both your true love?”

Simeon smirks. “Love is rather unpredictable, but it brings with it all of the best feelings. Would it take True Love to wake me? Perhaps we should celebrate that?” He walks over and takes both of their hands, bringing them back to his bed. “Perhaps all together? I would love to fully feel your lips, to be awake to truly experience both of your kisses.” He sits them on either side of him and leans over kissing one then the other. “Now, how is it best to experience your unique and beautiful loves, and what are your names? I would like to form my lips around them. I am Simeon, by the way.” He traces Rafe’s features with one hand while running his fingers through Tansat’s elegant ponytail with the other hand.

Somehow, both of them feel this is entirely natural. They look into each other’s eyes, feeling entirely blessed. Tansat whispers his own name, “Tansat.” He begins caressing Simeon’s perfectly sculpted shoulders and tracing along his jawline, moving up to touch his antlers. Simeon lets out a small gasp, as he wasn’t expecting them to be so sensitive to touch. 

Rafe touches Simeon’s waist and whispers his own name. Simeon giggles. “My true loves are beautiful men with beautiful names!” He moves Rafe’s hands to his belt buckle with a casual wink. With their affections his body wants nothing to do with clothing, and his trouser snake grows restless.

Rafe blushes as he fumbles with and removes Simeon’s pants, only to find that the shirt is quite strange and still keeping a bit of his modesty. It becomes difficult to figure out what to do with the shirt as he works around the growing bulge. His desire to explore more of Simeon’s body was almost unbearable as he tries to gently remove the strange shirt/undergarment.

Tansat is far more pragmatic though as he is kissing and nibbling Simeon’s shoulders and back, moving his face in close to give butterfly kisses, then nibbles up Simeon’s neck to get his lips next to Simeon’s ears as he moves his hands to again play with the antlers, enjoying Simeon’s sensitive reaction to it. “This shirt is rather impractical, I hope you don’t mind if we ruin it. We’ll replace it.”

Simeon smiles, but before he answers Satan has ripped the shirt off, leaving Simeon entirely bare for them, liberating the stiffened cock for Rafe’s affections, but also Simeon’s beautiful ass for himself. Rafe kisses and licks along the shaft while Tansat removes his own pants, whispering into Simeon’s ear “Do you want me inside of you? I do enjoy kissing you, if that is all you wish for right now.”

Simeon smiles, then turns and nibbles Tansat’s ears as he whispers his consent. Tansat gets his pants off, freeing his own cock, and then finds a vial with some clear liquid next to the bed and starts working the liquid onto his own cock and spreading it around Simeon’s asshole. He begins to gently and smoothly enter while Rafe continues kissing and licking along Simeon’s cock. 

Simeon has felt loved before, this is so much more fiery. It feels like a deeper lust, that he wishes to feel forever. Simeon pulls Rafe’s hair a little bit and balances his hip thrusts to show both of his partners appreciation. He moans both of their names loudly. He cannot quiet himself as he uses all of his concentration to keep himself from cumming too quickly with the waves of pleasure passing over him. They cause his breath to hitch and his heart to skip a beat every now and then. They continue like this until Simeon cannot help but give into his desire to release. The way his body clenches causes Tansat to do the same.

Simeon lays down happily cuddling them both for a moment before turning to Rafe. “I can’t let you not feel this beautiful feeling as well!” Rafe blushes, but does not resist as his own pants are removed and he is laid on his back. Simeon licks and kisses his cock and moves his mouth skillfully around it, as his hands gently caress the balls. He moves his mouth across it with rhythmic motions until Rafe experiences the beautiful feeling of release as well. Simeon holds them both close and smiles mumbling as he looks at them through sleepy and lidded eyes. “So this is true love.” He mumbles before drifting off into a peaceful slumber. 

Simeon wakes up disappointed that the most exquisite dream he’d ever had ended. He can faintly feel the beautiful ache of deep and passionate love in his core. He licks his lips, almost tasting the salt of their kisses. He can smell cologne, which he does not wear. He doesn’t remember any smells from his dream. Is he going mad with loneliness? As he takes a breath to sigh, he can feel the pressure of two heads on his chest. He almost doesn’t want to wake up any more fully, but when he does they are there. Satan and Raphael are in his bed in Purgatory Hall. They are not two men of rival kingdoms. They are his friends, though the way they cuddle him suggests they are more. How did they get there? Was the most important part of his dream true somehow? He gently wakes them, ready to show appreciation for them again.