First Demonic Dragon

Once Abaddon left the room, Izanagi wasn’t shy about shutting the door behind him.

"Honestly… Nothing but monsters around here no matter where we might look."

He turned to his daughter and offered her the first and only semblance of warmth he had displayed all day.

"You must’ve been uncomfortable here. I’m sorry that I took so long to come and get you."

"I’m not uncomfortable," Amaterasu responded with a shrug.

Before Izanagi could say anything, a rather explosive scene occurred on the television.

Izanagi tried to follow what was going on, but it was difficult. The dialect they were speaking in was starkly unfamiliar to his ears.

"You… are watching television?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"You don’t watch television."

"I do not."

"Well, then what is the meaning of this…?"

"It’s a Nevi’im drama. They are quite the splendid actors, surprisingly."

"How can you even understand the language?"

"Izanami transmitted it into my brain." Amaterasu answered.

Izanagi’s expression soured immediately. "Did she now..?"

Izanagi strode over to his daughter’s bed and placed his hand on the crown of her head.

"She didn’t put anything else in there." Amaterasu frowned and pulled away.

"Allow me to check anyway." Izanagi insisted. "You just don’t know that woman like I do…"

Amaterasu knew that, of course. But since time in Tehom is a little out of sync with the rest of creation, she had already spent a fair amount of time with Izanami.

She was starting to think that maybe… she knew her well enough.

-

Izanami wasn’t actually moving that fast, so Abaddon was able to catch her relatively easily.

He followed behind her closely as they walked through the hallway. Clearly unsure of what he was supposed to say.

"… I can kill him."

Izanami paused and turned around slowly.

Abaddon was surprised to find her looking up at him with an amused, fond look on her face.

Abaddon felt his chest warm up without knowing why.

"…W-Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I find you amusing. Your existence, that is."

Abaddon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "And.. What is that supposed to mean?"

"You’re just not very hard to read."

"Don’t tell my enemies that…" Abaddon laughed dryly.

Smirking, Izanami stepped closer to him boldly. "You use humor to deflect from when you’re feeling awkward."

"You have no proof of that."

Izanami just chuckled. "I guess you’re right, so you’ll just have to take my word for it then."

Abaddon truly could not believe that this woman was his formerly meek and lonesome emo goddess.

The change was like night and day.

"You offer to kill for me because you value my personal comfort over the life of another. That’s sweet. That’s you. But I don’t need that."

A flash of hurt showed across Abaddon’s face. "You don’t..?"

Izanami quickly realized how her words could’ve been misconstrued and she tried to fix it.

"I-I meant that I didn’t need you to kill him." She clarified with flushed cheeks. "Not that I didn’t need you, because I…"

Abaddon’s ears twitched as if they were bracing for an impact that would shatter them.

But at the last moment, Izanami bit her lip and halted.

"I just… I didn’t want you to think that I was still so fragile that I needed you to start a war for me."

Abaddon wanted to day that he didn’t think she was fragile. But for some reason the words wouldn’t come out.

So he said something completely unnecessary instead…

"I would win the war.."

"That’s not my point and you know that." Izanami laughed again.

The sound was becoming sweeter and sweeter everytime that Abaddon heard it.

"I have moved on." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I know it took me a few million years and a couple of outbursts, but I’m there now. Don’t judge me for my process."

Now, Abaddon was the one chuckling. "Oh really? What changed?"

Izanami’s eyes became completely black and glossy. They were dark, but unbelievably more bright than he had ever seen them.

"...I’ve just found something new to obsess over."

If this were a mortal he was in conversation with, Abaddon would have likely begun lecturing them on the need for a healthy recovery and not just trading one relationship addiction for another.

...But Abaddon was an immortal!

And the key to maintaining a successful immortal relationship is for each person involved to be just as bat-shit obsessive over their partners as inhumanely possible!

It is the one deciding factor between obtaining a relationship like Ares and Aphrodite, or Zeus and Hera.

True, unceasing obsession is Abaddon’s bread and butter.

And as he stared back into Izananmi’s eyes, his vision became rose-tinted.

Heat began rushing towards a very particular extremity. His pants started to feel more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Izananmi was considerably shorter than Abaddon. Her head was only at the middle of his stomach.

In the back of Abaddon’s mind, Abaddon was harboring several questions about the ’practicality’ of engaging in that kind of act with her.

"You... seem to be thinking about something rather hard... Care to share?" Izanami asked daringly.

Abaddon didn’t know why he was always the one who was getting seduced around here.

"In your dream... What was it like?"

Izanami lowered her head in embarrassment. "Didn’t you experience it all?"

Abaddon shook his head. "It was sort of like watching a movie."

Izanami lifted her head again and stared up at Abaddon. Her eyes were still filled with that same obsession as before.

"For me, it was... everything."

Abaddon felt like things were progressing at an extremely dangerous pace.

And before he could say anything, the door directly in between them swung open.

A very familiar musky scent wafted out that Abaddon knew better than anything.

Nyx was stepping outside of the room in a familiar black bathrobe. Beads of sweat dotted her neckline, forehead, and jaw as she smiled wider than Abaddon had ever seen her.

Izanami started to peek inside, but Abaddon just covered her innocent eyes at the last moment.

She didn’t really seem to have a problem either way.

"My friends.." Nyx sighed in elation. "I believe I have discovered the key to fixing my relationship."

"Do I want to know what it is..?" Izanami asked warily.

Nyx folded her arms in satisfaction. "Swinging."

"I definitely did not want to know."

Abaddon glanced inside the room even though he already knew what he would find inside.

As he thought, the next guys night was going to be absolutely catastrophic.

-

Post-coital glow wasn’t only affecting Nyx.

Straga was walking through the hallway with just a little bit more pep in his step as he cruised through the hallways on cloud nine.

The love of his life had finally returned to him after an extended absence away from home, and they spent nearly every waking moment together.

Of course, Straga was an adult dragon in the prime of his life who was particularly virile due to his heritage.

As a result, several times already had Monica needed a ’power nap’ of sorts to recharge from what was clearly the most strenuous battle of her recent memory.

Despite his imposing true face, playboyish good looks, and all-over-the-place personality, Straga was a true romantic at heart.

Hence the reason why, at present, he was heading off to prepare a sort of welcome home gift for her that would be second to none.

Straga traveled throughout the house until he arrived at a pair of large, thick double doors.

Pushing them open, a wave of heat and energy washed over his body.

Valerie’s forge was... a bit different from regular ones.

Entering the space, the cobblestone floor is the only thing that could be classified as ’normal’.

As soon as you look in front of you, you find that the space is anything but. The scene inside almost perfectly resembles Outer Space.

The vast, dark, and starry cosmos sprawls out before your eyes. However, any low-level being would be forced to shield their eyes so as not to go blind.

Stars, novas, and planets bursting with the rarest, most precious minerals that creation has ever, or will ever produce.

It is from this space that Valerie crafts her wonders. Armor impervious to damage or deterioration, weapons that would render an entire universe helpless, and technological marvels that are so advanced they are practically indistinguishable from magic.

Valerie usually destroys whatever she makes not long after it’s creation. She says she never wants to run the risk of one of her armaments getting out and falling into the wrong hands.

Despite all of the safeguards set in place to make such a thing impossible, she still has her worries as both Asherah and Gulban have seriously advised her about the potential risks.

Straga has come in here a few times before. Usually with either his mother or Darius trying their best to teach him the art of forging, but... it’s not all that fun.

Imagine getting driving lessons from someone with a well-documented history of road rage. Now imagine that they are both hundreds of meters tall, fire-breathing creatures.

Even Straga had his limits to him.

But when he entered the forge on this day, he was surprised to find it already in use.

Or… sort of.

"Mom? Why are you lying on the floor in here?"

Valerie hadn’t even heard or felt her son approaching.

A pair of headphones were placed snugly over her head and the song ’That’s Life’ was playing at full volume.

Straga’s brow crinkled.

He called for his mother several more times but eventually decided he knew of a far better way to get her attention.

Holding out his hand, he manifested a single bottle of beer and snapped off the lid.

Valerie’s nose twitched and she finally sat up to look around.

"Stragie-Baby?"

"… Hi, mom." Straga sighed.

He didn’t know if he should be glad that his mother had at least held on to the presence of mind to make him feel embarrassed, or be disappointed that she hadn’t lost it.