Ok, so I was always a GerIta shipper and was sure that that'd never change but then I saw this picture and watched that video and heard that song and….I'm way into PruIta now, it's a sin really, but I can't stop myself (ToT)

I hope you enjoy this shitty fanfic

Gilbert stared at the ceiling that was made of boring gray platforms. His head was leaning on his hand and he was sitting in the waiting room, where he was, well… waiting. He'd be the next one up for the job interview. Of course he'd get the job, he was, in the end a demon.

That meant that he had abilities that were impossible for a mere human to reach. Though who cared about the mortal's jobs? He had to get the job, so he could get close to the Company's CEO and corrupt his soul and he was very much worried about that job. Alfred F. Jones was his objective's name and this one had the cleanest track record Gilbert had ever seen.

Demons had already managed to corrupt even cleaner people, but this was going to be a very hard task for Gilbert. Not just because it was his first time with such a hard objective, but also because his powers where slowly swindling. His boss didn't know this, if he did, Gilbert wouldn't be sitting here right now. With the order "corrupt Alfred F. Jones"

Even though it seems strange that he should choose to keep it a secret, he had his reasons. More like, he had one reason. This was quite simply, he loved his job. Making these Puppets trust him like their own mirror image, just to betray them and walk out of the torturing room, while the object winces and pleads for mercy, aah it was better than all these silly mortal drugs.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt" the interviewer read in a very monotone voice, smiling like a robot. Gilbert smiled back and stood up, following her into the room. The woman looked at him and stretched out her hand "Good afternoon, please sit down"

Gilbert shook her hand firmly, remembering in the last second not to guide it to his lips and kiss it. Really, human etiquette changed way too often. "Good afternoon to you to" he responded, before taking his seat and clasping his hands in front of him. This way, he wouldn't forget to keep his posture. "So Mr. Beilschmidt" the interviewer started of, "What is your motivation to become a journalist?" Well, looks as if this meeting will be easy enough.

Back in the waiting room, a delicate man with auburn hair walked in and took his place. If he'd understood the plan correctly, he'd be on for his interview in 20 minutes and the interview was supposed to take 20 minutes. The poor guy who was currently in there had no chance.

It was maybe hypocritical of an Angel to be "stealing" a job away from someone, but he really needed to get this job. The suicide rate in the Company was getting higher than it was supposed to be. Heavquarters thinks it's due to the selling rate of the magazine dropping, but in the case that the Company's been infiltrated by demons, it'd be better to have at least one Angel there.

Feliciano fixed his tie. He was wearing a business suit, completed by aforementioned tie. He had slicked his hair back neatly and was currently making an effort to keep his eyes opened. Angels might be able to see with their eyes closed, but not humans.

19 minutes later. Feliciano watched the door open. He saw a relatively tall man walk out of the room, he was sickly pale and had gray hair. This already gave Feliciano enough reason to be suspicious, but as the man came closer he saw the other mans eyes.

Humans usually had green, blue or brown eyes. Sometimes the eyes could be amber or gray, which was classified as suspicious, but this definitely-not-human had purple eyes. Still, this was a strange case. Demons were, just as angles, capable of changing their outward appearance slightly. It made no sense that a demon should choose to have purple eyes, it'd be way too obvious. So the question was, what exactly had just left the interview room?

Out of reflex, Feliciano closed his eyes. He could see better this way. He could see humans this way. In his sight, humans would be green, angels would be blue and everything else was red. Sadly, "everything else" included ghosts, spirits, demons, monsters and even animals. The not-human was red, though Feliciano had already known this.

He gripped the binder that was in his hands tighter. Going by the creature's traits, he could safely assume it was a ghost. It was probably dead from a disease, if the hair was anything to go by. Possibly cancer, the unusual hair color was most likely due to his baldness during lifetime.

Feliciano was ripped out of his thoughts when a voice called his name "Thomas Endman" of course he hadn't given them his real name, Feliciano Vargas. He wasn't daft. He stood up, the ghost was none of his business, though it must be a strong one for humans to be able to see it. It wouldn't cause any harm.

Ghosts mostly had one objective that they'd have to accomplish in order to rest in peace and when that was done, they'd go to wherever they were supposed to go. Ghosts couldn't influence their karma anymore. If they were meant to go to hell at the moment at their death, this won't change no matter how many children they give candies to and no matter how many grannies they help cross the street, though ghosts didn't know this, they usually didn't even know they were ghosts.

Feliciano smiled at the woman that was holding the door open. "Good afternoon Mr. Endman" the two other interviewers greeted him "please take a seat" Feliciano smiled politely back "Good afternoon" he sat down and put his binder in front of him. The woman sat down among the other two interviewers "So Mr. Endman. What is your motivation to become a journalist?" Feliciano already knew that he had a 99.9% of charming them, so he relaxed and answered their questions.

Back in the room Gilbert was standing rooted to the ground. He'd never thought a human could be that beautiful. He was staring at the door where that elegant man had vanished. There was something more behind his orderly fashion, his enchanting smile, his absolutely perfect posture. Gilbert just immediately knew that even though this was the prettiest body he'd ever seen, there was something in there that was pulling him closer.

He startled when someone bumped into him. The man muttered an apology and hurried on. Gilbert shook his head and clenched his fists. It was no good to be obsessed with one human. As humanity's symbol of evil, he couldn't afford to become too transfixed on corrupting just one soul. Something about the glow the man had left behind made it seem near impossible to corrupt him anyway.

With one last glance, Gilbert turned around and walked out of the door. In two days time he'd get a notification that he'd been accepted for the job. Until then he'd better make some preparations and do some research on Alfred F. Jones. The only thing that mattered in the end was his job. Demons weren't supposed to act on innocent feelings.

This is it for now . I hope you liked it and don't worry I'll explain how this all works in the next chapters. Who is Germany here, and other questions will be answered in the following chapters. Though if you have some specific wish or question that you want answered in the fic, just send me a message.

P.S. "Heavquarters" isn't a typo. It's a very bad pun on Heaven and Headquarters. Sue me.