(It's been over a year since my last update (chapter 7) , but yes. Look. A new chapter. Also can I say thank you to all your help? Before I rewrote the chapters and stuff I had 12 followers...Now I have 25! Also the reason for me not posting his sooner is because I'm now the writer of a really long fic that takes forever to edit. And I'm trying my best to make AsoTMM as good as I can.) Also here is a good instrumental song to listen to through this one: watch?v=VUP636vOuxg )
He felt tortured and hurt by Francis this whole time, being raped and forced to cut himself for his husband's and Alfred's pleasure. Plus he knew even after 500 years of Francis somehow "loving" him that there was no way the demon could go without fucking thousands and giving love to them.
Francis did admit it hurt how Arthur didn't care that he was going to spend time romantically with someone else. He sighed and pulled Arthur into bed and quietly ran his hands along his body after he fell asleep. He then noticed the white scar across Arthur's stomach.
When humans got reincarnated into angels and demons, any identifiable marks or scars came with them. So if you had a scar from breaking your arm, it would be there for the rest of your angel life. This was the case when Peter was surgically removed from Arthur to be born. It left a scar that would be there to remind him of how maternal he was. But over years of forgetting his son, he thought of it as a battle scar.
Francis suddenly felt memories of Peter come to him and he turned on a dim light, picking up one of his picture albums from the back of his nightstand, one of his secret areas. And he realized that blonde boy he could never name in his photographs was no other than their little Peter. He quietly did wonder what happened to him as he looked through all of his photographs. He looked so...happy. It couldn't have been that way considering how much Francis and Arthur fought with another.
The demon felt his heart warm up with love as he continued staring down at the photographs, a tear making itself known as it ran down his face. He had forgotten what it completely was like to be a papa. To hold another human being in your arms that would look up to you for nearly everything. He almost felt his protective instincts come in when the thought Peter was dead invaded his thoughts...But it was torn to miniscule shreds as he slammed the photo album shut with a snarl and hid it back in it's place.
Pathetic, he thought.
He was a demon that could kill someone in a second and it didn't even have to be from his hands. His sharp wings could impale someone, or his horns could stab through someone's chest. He was not loving at all. Children were pointless little objects of little interest. And this child was just a waste of his time. He almost wanted to stab himself for being so caring right there and instead let his sharp nails dig into his pale skin.
A slight laugh escaped his lips just thinking about life with Arthur alone. And it was a laugh of happiness since he much rather preferred the thought of a life without their past child and without Alfred and everyone. Just them.
Arthur was his. and only his.
He almost was going to wake the man up and have his way with him but stopped himself as he got a closer look at the angel.
Through the dim light he could see his torture.
Arthur's wings had quite a few feathers missing and some abuse scars from getting slammed into the headboard. And they looked too hurt for him to fold up anymore so the poor angel would have to lay on them all sprawled out like that. He also had so many cuts and bad injuries littered against his pale skin. His apron was also soaked in blood and Francis cringed when he saw scrapes from his own sharp nails. He knew he raped Arthur when they first met, and his heart was always completely heavy just thinking about it. He had heard Arthur scream and writhe in pain.
He gently leaned down and kissed the man's cheek, whispering that he loved him very gently.
Francis then fell asleep and had a strange dream.
"You're stupid, aren't you? Taking me to the ocean with these annoying seagulls? With this wind and the crash of waves." The small boy squirmed at the sight of water and looked over to his friend."Arthur...sil vous plait... you'll love the beach, when you're older. And just look how cute those mouettes are! Of course, not as cute as my darling Pierre." Francis nuzzled his cheek against his little dove which perched in his palm."God. No, this is just ruddy terrible...Especially that dark...deep...water." Arthur's hated oceans and lakes, especially because he couldn't swim and had a constant fear of drowning. Little Francis, however, was partial to them and quite enjoyed every little thing about the beach. Water very much calmed him down. He watched the gulls fly over the greyish sky. He gave soft breaths at how beautiful the sight was, with the tiny bit of white in the clouds. Francis just gave a small chuckle, handing Pierre to Arthur. "Oh come now, my petit lapin isn't acting so cute when he's negative like that. And you see Pierre there? He's going to be there for our wedding, is he not?"
Francis was up and about that morning, getting dressed in a pinstriped grey suit, with a crimson dress-shirt and black bowtie. His black wings matched it nicely. His hair was brushed rather-nicely and somehow the honey-gold locks shone in the dark, unlit room. He turned on the lights and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at the English figure all tangled in the sheets into one huge mess.
With a groan, Arthur soon woke up. "You were serious about the date, were you?" He said, his eyes vertically zooming up and down as they scanned over his outfit. Francis just smiled, his somewhat sharp teeth glistening white. "Of course I was, cher. "
Francis wouldn't lie at all about something like this. Soul-gathering was a very serious and fulfilling job, especially with Francis, as he had to collect at least three or five a day unlike the usual one or two. However due to the presence of Arthur...His work started to slide from his daily plans. He sighed. He hadn't captured a soul for the past two days and he couldn't be slacking. He was an important demon which required quite the amount of souls. Souls and their part in the community of Hell was very important.
You see, a human soul was very valuable. Not only was it your guardian of your body and your mental stability but it represented the amount of respect and happiness one has. Souls were different from the orbs usually portrayed in human culture. They were like shadows...Mirror, solid images of the human they represented with different quirks or ways to be guarding the soul, with some inheritance from whatever souls merged to make it. If two people were very much in love and they had a child, the child would be the outcome of a soul merge. For example, Arthur's soul was more of a shielded guardian, representing his strength. Francis's was more fragile and like glass, robed in weaves of weak protection fragments. They were the two most compatible souls in all of hell.
When souls were taken by demons, the protections were added to the structure of hell. It was rare for human souls to be reincarnated . Francis and his comrades were an exception. Angels saved those souls, but demons usually caught up first.
Arthur sort of sat there on the bed, his toes curling up in a little bit of anger almost but then he let it go. "Well. I suppose I'd be happy with you gone, fucking some whores and taking their souls…" He muttered, very sternly. He let the blanket curl around his bare body and started tearing up. "It's nice to know my own old husband doesn't even love me."
Those words instantly stabbed into Francis's heart and he gave a nasty frown. "I can't help it, cher...I really can't." He murmured before taking off and leaving.
Arthur laid back and sighed, going back to sleep.
He was awoken when he felt nails start going down his sides and he looked up, assuming Francis came back and wanted his way, but saw Alfred instead. The two of them just stared for a while but then Alfred pulled back and smiled. "Hello babe." He murmured, about to kiss Arthur before getting pushed back and off the bed.
Demons were exceptionally lustful, it was just in their genetic actions. And Alfred had always wanted Arthur, not realizing that even sleeping with him could lead to a broken spine or snapped neck since angels were a bit more fragile.
Arthur just hissed at him and reached around for his apron, finding it under a pillow and tying it on. "Please go away." He murmured, watching Alfred from the bed, and almost feeling anxious, as if he was scared Alfred would do something.
Alfred just stared at him. "No. Aw, look at all those scars on you. And your wings? Did he do it to you?" The American's voice was like a pair of scissors, cutting through every word sharply. Arthur just ran his fingers along a few scars and laughed. "N-No, he loves me."
"He loves you by going out and sleeping with others? He's probably not even gathering souls, he's probably doing it for the pleasure and lust. I've seen how he is around you…He looks at you like you're an object, like you're dirt to him." Alfred spat out.
Arthur started crying, wrapping his arms around himself. "W...When I showed him the ring he engaged to me with, he was ecstatic, his heart was beating again…"
Alfred was stiff as he sat there on the ground. "His heart was beating?!"Arthur looked Alfred in the eyes. "It was! He was acting like he was when he was human! I swear his eyes were turning indigo again! I felt warmth in him, I felt actual breath. He wasn't a dead statue like most demons. He had emotion...He actually wanted to hold me-"
Alfred instantly gave Arthur a hard slap in the face. "You fucking shut up! You don't know Francis like I do! He's always plagued you. He'd tell sweet things like that to you, but it's all lies, Arthur! He doesn't love you in the slightest. He only was faking because he didn't want to break your heart!-"
Arthur felt a slight bit of rage fill him and he went down and tackled Alfred to the ground. "I'm going to kill you for saying that!" The angel yelled out, his voice booming across the maroon walls. However, against sharp nails, horns, and spiked wings, he wasn't a threat and felt all three poke into his skin. Alfred also started biting into his neck. "You can't defeat a man with the truth, babe."
Arthur bit back groans of pain and just kept still, pinned to the ground by Alfred and getting stabbed more. Crimson blood leaked from various, newly-formed scrapes, staining his ivory skin. "Why do you hate him so much?" Arthur asked weakly, getting a hard bite on the chin from the demon powering him.
"Try loving a man for several years and finally see him again just to find out he's engaged to a terrible man and knocked up with a bastard child…"
Arthur tried fighting Alfred back, but whimpered as Alfred's nails dug deeper. He wasn't surprised if an organ was stabbed yet.
"Arthur, also, you believed he engaged to you because he loved you…"
The angel could only look up, tears spilling out his eyes, scared to face whatever it is Alfred was going to say.
"He engaged to you just because he got you pregnant. Why else do you think he left you so easily? He knew that if he left you, child services would kick his ass. He probably wanted your little brat aborted…"
Arthur then lost it, his fist balling up into the carpeted floor.
"P-Peter was not a "brat". He was the sweetest, most polite child out there. He was like his father, so kind and beautiful. I don't see why you can't see that in either of them. They're my family, aren't they?"
Alfred instantly grabbed Arthur's jaw, his fingers squeezing it as if he was ready to break it. "Shut up! You know I'm right for you, you know I really am! What do you see in them both, especially that asshole? I can give you everything you want. I'll kill Francis if you need, then we can be together." He licked down Arthur's cheek with his forked tongue.
Then the demon started to manipulate Arthur, kissing down his body and he was about to grasp onto the angel's member before getting off and preparing to leave. "Your asshole is going to be here soon, I think." He muttered and headed toward the door, but then stopped. He went over and held his hand to Arthur's forehead for a while. "Your memories of that pathetic human life are mine." He whispered, before leaving Arthur in a confused stupor.
…
When Francis came back, Arthur felt empty and could only remember his angel life.
"Bonjour, mon amour." Francis said gently as he came in, offering a gentle rose. He hadn't actually slept with anyone. He just killed a few girls after dates. Now that his old husband was back, he couldn't sleep with another thing again. The Frenchman became quickly shocked when Arthur rejected the rose.
"I don't want anything from you. You rapist…" The angel murmured.
Francis felt his heart break, "Are you alright?... this isn't you…!"
Arthur just stared into space and Francis picked him up, trying to study him for anything. However, once he could smell Alfred's scent on his Arthur, he was infuriated and grabbed his knife off the dresser, still holding Arthur.
"I'm ready to murder that man."
