Ivlis took another step forward until his foot almost touched the first step to Satanick's throne and looked him straight in the eye. The Devil of the Pitch Black World returned the gaze with curious malice before speaking in an amused tone.
«Oh, it's you. A rare sight to see around here. Were you looking for me?».
Ivlis clenched his fists and took a deep breath.
Today was the day.
He would have walked up to Satanick and just straight-up told him: "I don't want to have sex with you anymore". Simple as that.
Well, he knew it wouldn't have been that simple, but either way he just had to do it. For too many years he had endured Satanick's perversions purely out of fear; he was tired of getting on his knees and doing everything the other Devil told him to in exchange of less bullying - but he wasn't that weak anymore, right? He had grown stronger; he wasn't scared of that shithead anymore. Hell, he was a Devil, he had a reputation to uphold!
That was precisely why, when Satanick just listened to him without batting an eyelid, Ivlis got a really bad feeling. It couldn't have been that simple, right? Not with someone like Satanick.
«I see.» The other Devil murmured, sitting sloppily on his throne. He shrugged, waving one hand, «I've got no problem with that. You're free to go».
Taken aback, Ivlis hesitated for a few seconds, studying the other man's expression. He looked bored. Maybe he really just wasn't interested in him anymore. Maybe he had found a new torture target, and Ivlis just didn't know about it. Who could tell? The man was incredibly hard to read, and Ivlis didn't want to overthink this. Not after such an unpredictably good result.
"Lucky…!" He thought as he turned around, ready to leave before Satanick changed his mind.
However, as soon as Ivlis begun walking, Satanick's bored expression changed into a smirk. He licked his lips, leaning forward, «After all, if you don't want to, I could always go for Licorice.»
Ivlis froze, a cold shiver running down his spine. It took him several seconds to register what Satanick had said.
«What did you just fucking say?» He slowly turned towards the purple-eyed Devil. «You can't be fucking serious.»
Satanick's smirk turned into a grin, but he didn't reply. Instead, he checked his nails casually, like what he had just hinted at was the most normal thing in the universe. Feeling uncontrollable rage mounting up inside of him, Ivlis continued, «He's a CHILD!»
«He can turn into an adult, though.»
Ivlis couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was too much, even for someone like him. Gesticulating vividly, he insisted: «That doesn't change the fact that mentally he's still a kid!»
Satanick's expression didn't change. «What matters to me is his body.»
The Flame World's Devil shook his head, incredulous. «He's… he's YOUR SON!»
«Do I look like I care?»
He knew that Satanick was twisted. He knew he didn't have any scruples. He knew he was a gross piece of shit but… this? This was a whole different level of fucked up. Ivlis was furious. His palms were sweating, his throat dry as the deserts of the Land of Sun in summer. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth. «You… you're a beast! A monster!»
«I'm a Devil.»
Satanick looked bored once again, for his smirk had dropped and he was now looking his favorite torture target in the eye.
Ivlis couldn't read him at all. He never knew what he was thinking behind the mask he called a face.
«I'm a Devil too, but I'm not like you!»
Suddenly, Satanick stood up. Startled, Ivlis gulped nervously as the man slowly strolled up to him, stopping only once he was a few inches from him. Ivlis could feel his sulfury breath on his cheeks. He hated it; he hated that intoxicating scent he knew all too well. The purple-eyed Devil was a good 10cm taller than him, and in that moment Ivlis felt like he was towering him.
When he spoke, his voice was low and threatening.
«Then you're not doing it right, are you?»
For the second time that day, Ivlis froze, unable to move a single muscle. He tried to think, but his brain didn't seem to want to cooperate. He felt tremendously angry and cripplingly afraid at the same time. Nothing had changed.
«Now, come here.»
He wanted to bash his skull in. He wanted to break his bones, one by one, until he couldn't stand anymore. He wanted to kick him until his face was unrecognizable. He wanted to beat him up into a pool of blood and stinky, gross meat.
Instead, he complied.
His body shook when Satanick's hands begun unraveling his scarf, and he flinched when he licked his cheek.
«You'll be a good boy, won't you, Ivlis?»
He'd been such a fool, to think he could be free again.
Ever so slowly, Ivlis nodded, tears pooling in his eyes.
«You're so pathetic. You're not even worth being called a Devil.»
He knew Satanick was probably just fucking with his mind. He knew he wouldn't hurt Licorice - but he didn't want to give him the benefit of the doubt. Protecting the child was his responsibility. That's why, once again, he would be strong for him.
Blood began rolling down Ivlis' chin as he bit his own lip, teeth digging into the flesh, almost to punish it. He would get stronger. He'd get the power he needed, in a way or another. The power to kill Satanick. The power to become free, at last.
A Devil's power.
As the Devil with the pitch black heart licked down his now bare chest, Ivlis seethed, as if pure venom was spilling from his lips.
He had a plan.