Dear I was pompous and my sister was crazy.

Life is a bitch, and then one stabs you.

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Creative Original or Derivative (Fanfiction): Original.

Rating/Warning(s): M (mention of nudity and strong language)

Disclaimer: All copyright, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.


Magic, as God, works in mysterious ways.

And that is perhaps an odd way of putting it, but also it was rather accurate.

She stood like a statue, bewildered in front of the magic circle, and stared.

And stared.

The naked, long, decidedly masculine form inside the boundaries groaned and turned, breathing in deeply through a long, aristocratic nose. The golden light of the fire in the heart fell over the planes and angles of his body like a gentle caress.

She stared.

And stared some more.

His lashes were ridiculously long, as were his limbs—he was rather disproportionate actually, thought certainly quite beautiful.

He rose up in an elbow and looked around, his wide violet eyes finally zeroing-in on her.

He spoke something in a language she didn’t understand, his voice like velvet over gravel. She shook her head, mystified. He arched a long black brow and tried again, this time in another one. He continued to switch through tongues, all of them completely unfamiliar to Estela, for a while. As he did it he sat up, leaning back on his hands, indolent and evidently comfortable with his nudity.

Estela kept her eyes studiously fixed to his handsome face, from time to time allowing it to wander down the long lines of black tattoos that curved over his chest; but never lower.

Suddenly, she heard something she recognized, and jerked her eyes back to his face. His brows arched.


“Oh. No, um—inglés?”

“English,” he offered, tilting his head.

“Yes. Yes, English.”

“Well, so. Who the fuck are you?”

Taken aback by his language, she blinked. Indignation rose up her body alongside the blush creeping up her cheeks, and she frowned.

“Hey! What—“

But she was at a loss as to what to say to him, as he moved to crouch, his hands resting flat on his thighs and his legs spread in a rather—obscene way. He looked like a great cat, his skin gleaming golden in the firelight and his black hair cascading softly over his broad shoulders. She realized there was actually a feline quality to his features, which were sharp and elegant.

“What am I doing here? Where is here, for that matter? And who are you?”

She blinked.

Alright—first things first. Stay calm. Be rational.

“Here is Arizona. I’m Estela Madeleine. And you’re… I don’t know what you’re doing here. Who are you?”

His brows went up again, “You summoned me.”

“No, I was trying to summon a female demon; her name is Ostrusa.”

“That’s not a real name,” he dismissed with a derisive snort.

Embarrassment and anger curves up her spine. Her cheeks burned.

“Well, that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“How would I know? You summoned me.”

“By mistake!”

“Oh, and? I’m still here, no? I suppose you could take that comfort—your summoning works.”

She huffed indignantly, moving along the outside of the circle and thinking fast.

“What’s your real name?” she demanded, glaring at him.

The violet of his eyes seemed to swirl endlessly, never lingering still for more than a second.

He snorted derisively again, “As if I’ll tell you.”

“Why the hell did I summon you if I didn’t have your real name?” she asked, more to herself than him, her mind whirring with possibilities.

“Well, so. Why did you want to summon this girl, then?” he asked conversationally.

“She took my sister’s left eye. I want it back,” she said fiercely, glaring at him as though defying him to laugh at her resolve.

He didn’t; he looked completely impassive, neither mocking nor surprised.

“I suppose that makes sense. Hm. That explains why you ended up summoning me; I’m a vengeance demon.”



She was blank.

“But… then—I mean… what are you supposed to do?”

“Take your vengeance? For a small price, something negotiable.”

“Like what? My left eye?” she asked cynically.

“Um, a little more. Maybe your heart. Maybe all your memories from before you were five. Or your sexual impulse. I personally like that last one. Female libido is powerful.”

She stared at him.

“I’m sort of attached to my libido. I could spare the memories, though.”

“Memories are a powerful thing,” he tilted his head, looking at her out the corner of his right eye. A grin spread quickly over his face, showing unusually long canines.

Then again, who knew what was unusual for a demon, right?

“Well, so. They’ll do. It’s just an eyeball after all. Does she even have green eyes at least?”


“Meh. Cheap eyeball then. Oh well. If you’d like to break the circle now, we’ll get started.”

He was all business as he stood, tall and thin, rubbing his hands. Estela forced her eyes to stay above his waist.

He laughed, “You do have a strong libido. I like it.”

He did. Males have a sort of incorporated lie detector, quite difficult to ignore in his nakedness.

Estela turned slowly to the window, wondering just what exactly she’d gotten herself into this time.


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