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The Devil May Care

Part 6

For DuskCypher

By Draconicon

There were several misconceptions that mortals had about heaven that they would be surprised to find out were misconceptions. For example, there were not thousands of angels wandering around, or even hundreds. As a matter of fact, the angels that could speak and were not merely a pre-recorded system of worshipful songs could have been counted in the double-digits, with the named ones even fewer.

Another such misconception of heaven was that there were plenty of good souls wandering around, that there were good people in great numbers that had passed through the pearly gates. Despite the work of God's son, there were surprisingly little that had made it to the holy realm, and fewer still that had proven entirely worthy to step inside. Standards did have to be maintained, after all, and while the son of God had loosened some of the strictures, there were still many rules that had to be followed. While the speaking angels could be numbered in the double-digits, the actual souls that had reached heaven could perhaps be counted up to the four digits. Nearing their 10,000th entry, yes, but still less than that.

God, having chosen a tiger form for the day, leaned back on an ephemeral throne as several of his angels argued with one another. He need not open his ears or his mind to know what they were debating; there was only one thing that would hold the attention of more than one angel, now, at least, aside from him.

The mortal that has the devil's power...

It was not yet a dangerous thing, despite how the angels were talking about it. Even from here, lazily looking down upon the earth, God could see that there was less danger from this man than there had ever been from Lucifer. This mortal did not have the same sort of anger that the old devil had, nor did he have the power of the Devil Himself. Not truly, not yet. He had only scratched the surface of it.

But that was still enough to send his angels into a tizzy. The tiger rolled his eyes as he looked from the earth to his followers again.

"He's strong enough to make trouble," one of them whispered.

"And Seraph?"

"Seraph should have sent him straight back to hell. Instead -"

"Don't say it."

"We all know what happened."

"Yes, but - you saw what he did. He turned him from an angel to a cow. A cum-cow. With TITS!"

God smiled ever so slightly at the indignant rage coming from his angels, shaking his head. He had peered down on Seraph since the transformation, and he knew for a fact that the biggest problem there was that their fellow angel - well, former fellow - was enjoying what he was going through. That he had been corrupted to have fun with being something less than an angel, being someone's plaything.

After all, if it could happen to one of them, it could happen to any of them.

God shook his head, stretching his striped arms over and around it, leaning back on his forearms. His toga stretched around his form, leaving him rather tight and constrained, but that was merely a choice of his at this point. He could change his attire with less than a thought, merely a whim or a wish.

So, he listened, waiting to see what his angels would say, how they would complain, what they would want out of this whole situation. For no angel started a conversation like this that didn't want something.

"He could rip the world apart."

"He's already gone to hell and come back. What did he get from them?"

"Weapons, armor. Ways to fight us, surely."

"What else would someone with the Devil's soul do?"

"He wants us gone."

"He wants to conquer the world."

"Surely, that is his ambition. No mortal would have any other, no mortal would want anything less."

They had been sitting on the clouds for far too long if that was what their opinion of mortals was. God had watched them, more out of laziness than anything else, and he knew for a fact that they were hardly that ambitious any longer. No, mortals were more likely to spend their days staring out their windows, or into their televisions. They didn't have the mind and the heart for reaching out to take the world for their own anymore.

It would have been more interesting celestial television if they did.

God realized that his angels were starting to stare at him again, and the tiger turned his attention from the clouds around him to the assembled seven angels. He cocked his head to the side as they kept staring, their wordless expressions giving him nothing.

"...Yes?" he asked.

"We need to get rid of him, oh God."

"He'll bring about the apocalypse if we let him."

"We have to send him back to Hell, and now."

"And we can't do that."

"We'll end up like Seraph."

"You have to -"

"You think I'm going to do that dirty work for you?"

God's interruption silenced the angels instantly, as he had known it would. They were not ready to fight him; they knew better than to try. They were his people...

Though not his creations.

That was perhaps the greatest of the misconceptions about heaven and him. While God was the one that ruled the world, that looked over it and ensured that things worked properly - insofar as they could, on the cosmic scale - he was not the one that had created everything. The humans of the earth, the angels of heaven, the demons of Hell, they were all made by someone that had come before him. God was the first among angels, their greatest power, endowed by Heaven with a strength that could not be denied, not even by Lucifer.

Yet, at the same time, he was bound by the rules that he had made. And one of those rules, given somewhat drunkenly in a melancholic moment, was a promise to Noah that he would never end the world such as he had done before, nor would he go so far as to interfere with the world outside of ending it at the end of times.

The tiger leaned back on his great throne of cloud and light, taking his hands from behind his head to rest in his lap. He twiddled his thumbs as he hummed to himself, looking out into the distance and seeing the world once more.

The young man that laid in his bed, doing little more than jerking his cock, could have been any mortal man on earth. There was nothing special about him at first glance, though God knew that he had been practicing a great deal of dark magic before he had gone through the trouble of summoning the Devil to his bedroom.

A stroke of brilliance in that young man...

Such a trick would not have worked at the beginning of time, or even during the old times when the demons were summoned regularly for the whims of mortals. Lucifer would have been on guard for such a trick, believing that there was always the possibility of being called up by priests that wished his destruction, or a young demon that had possessed a mortal for the pleasure of his own ambition.

Yet, as time had gone on, Lucifer had lost more and more of that wariness. He knew that the Devil still had an understanding that he was doomed to die at the end of days, but that was a far-off awareness of a far-off time. He had stopped caring about dealing with mortals while having his guard up. He had thought that he was invincible.

Not anymore.

God shook his head, however. This mortal, this 'Dusk', was hardly someone that Heaven needed to worry about in the same way that they had needed to worry about Lucifer. There was none of the great anger that the former angel had carried, none of the hatred towards heaven. He was a man, a mortal, someone that could be kept interested in the mortal world and nothing else. Provided that he did not become a conqueror, and merely remained his own hedonistic self, God could not see him becoming a danger to heaven.

Yet, the angels still looked at him, and he knew that they were more afraid than they were willing to admit. And, more than that, he knew that they were wanting to go back to the world below. They were not willing to give in to the banishment that they had essentially suffered by Dusk taking power.

Nor were they willing to let this go by without challenge.

God sighed.

"I will deal with this."

"Please, oh Lord, deal with it soon."

"We wish to return."

"The mortals need our guidance."

"They require our aid."

"We must do this."

"Go," God said, waving his hand, and they departed in beams of light and song.

The tiger sighed, rubbing his forehead as he got to his feet. Bare paws trod on the clouds between him and the earth, and he looked down through the gaps in the white fluff to see the world beneath him again.

To be fair, there was a part of him that was tempted to bring about the apocalypse. There was every right to do it with the Devil Himself wandering around earth, and while there was a loophole in that - it wasn't Lucifer himself on earth, after all, merely his soul - he doubted that he would be convicted by any celestial tribunal on the matter. And it would be good to return to the world that he had ruled at a distance for so long, to feel its earth beneath his feet once more.

Not that he would be able to do that while mortals lived upon it. There was a great pain to them when he was around, and that was why he so seldom talked to them. The last time he did, he had seared the ears from their heads and their eyes from their sockets. Mortals had become so different to him that they simply could not endure what his presence did to them.

He could not do anything to the world, but there was one that could.

He turned his head as he felt her appear, smiling slightly at the wide-hipped, large-breasted tigress that had just appeared in the cloud chamber. She walked forward with an idle pace, barely seeming aware of the situation.

Yet, of course, his daughter would be entirely aware of it. After all, she was the embodiment of Mercy, and even the Devil Himself could be due a bit of that.

"Did you feel me calling for you, daughter?" he asked as he turned back to the clouds.

"Not yet, but I felt them calling for me."

"And what did you feel from them?"

"A wish to be relieved."

"From guilt, or something else?"

"Something else, of course; they seldom feel guilt, these days."

He imagined not, and he imagined that they would have been imagining a girl like his daughter these days, as well. The standards of the mortals had grown, just as the standards of heaven had been loosened. The mortals imagined women of large endowments, and men of greater ones conquering them.

It was a debauched world, but one that made for interesting viewing, sometimes.

"Have you noticed Dusk, yet?"

"Von Doom?" she asked.

"The very same. How did you know?"

"He has been a very sinful man. I have been hoping to hear his prayers for forgiveness and mercy."

"Is that all, my daughter?" God asked, his whiskers turning up slightly in a smile.

The tigress didn't answer, but merely leveled a stare at him. Few could be allowed to do something like that. In fact, only three individuals ever had. Lucifer had, and had continued when he was cast into the pit. His son had, before being sent down to allow a greater streak of forgiveness. And now, her.

He knew that there was no threat that he could level upon her that would take the stare away, to make her feel as if she hadn't been judged, so he did not try. Instead, he looked upon the world again.

"He is becoming a problem."

"Hardly a problem."

"For the angels, not me," God clarified.

"Ah."

"They're afraid of him."

"Poor news, to have the angels afraid of a mortal."

"Do you feel sorry for them?"

"No. They are not in need of mercy."

"Or Mercy?"

"Not in the slightest, my father."

He smiled slightly. His daughter was a loving tigress, but at times, too loving. And at times, not quite loving enough, he supposed. She had always been one to fly into fits of love and fits of rage, and he had seen kings fall before her in the past. She would stand for them before him, and then would continue to stand until her interest waned, at which point she would leave them for his judgment.

God shook his head, idly reaching over and adjusting his daughter's white dress, pulling the straps that held it up a bit closer to her neck. It lifted her bosom slightly in the process, something that the older tiger took care not to notice.

"Regardless of whether the angels deserve mercy or Mercy, it is clear that Dusk might do with some."

"You wish him guided, Father?"

"Indeed."

"Heh...a man with the soul of the Devil Himself, guided with the power of Mercy?" The tigress shook her head. "You do not give small orders, do you?"

"Would you follow them, if I did?"

"I would follow any task that you set before me, Father."

"As well you should."

Moving away from the view of the earth, he walked back to his throne. He was idly aware that his daughter continued to stare down upon the earth, and he knew that her thoughts were bending towards the young man that she had been told of. He wondered, briefly, if there was more than mercy upon her mind.

Then the thought passed. She was his daughter; she would have little but the best of intentions for others. He trusted her judgment, and believed in her as others believed in him.

As he sat down, she finally looked back at him. The tigress gave him the smallest of smiles.

"Do you believe that he will listen to me?"

"I feel that mercy will make itself heard."

"I imagine that you will find him quite amenable to my charms."

"Daughter, do you wish to fill my head with thoughts of your deeds? Even I would need to confess to horrible things at that point."

"Father..."

She shook her head, but with a small smile.

Certainly, God had been guilty of looking at his daughter in ways that no father should. It wasn't that he lusted for her, but rather that the body that she had was crafted too well for its purpose. It was made to encourage physical mercy as well as mental and emotional, and he wondered, sometimes, if there had been too much focus on that.

She was definitely unafraid of using her body to get the interests of others in such ways. He knew she had seduced others in the past, and then defended them before him. More than one king in the ancient past had found himself hauled up for judgment, his case held in limbo for centuries while Mercy pled for him, only to suddenly end when her interests did. When Mercy ran out, then there was no need for any further gentleness.

He sighed.

"I will see you try and turn him," God said. "I give you permission to use any means necessary for it."

"You do not fear for me?"

"You are greater than the angels. What you lack in wings, you hold in power; he will not be able to corrupt you the way that he has Seraph."

"And Seraph himself? Does he deserve my Mercy?"

"Only if you so choose."

He doubted that she would. Mercy had a strange relationship with the angels to begin with, and he imagined that she'd be more inclined to see them punished for their lack of loyalty than to give them the gentleness that she gave to mortals. If she found Seraph, there was at least a 50/50 chance of the bull being slaughtered out of his mortal body and sent for judgment.

She was a merciful woman, but she chose how to dispense it.

The tigress eventually bowed before him.

"I will see what I can do, Father."

"Do more than see. Do. If we can turn the power of the Devil Himself to the betterment of the world, then we can finally stop looking after it."

"Father?"

"We can allow them to live on their own. They'll have someone that can take care of them, and I don't have to keep an eye on them all the time. I don't have to be their babysitter anymore if one of them finally grows up."

Mercy stared at him for that, but God didn't care. It had been a thing for him for several centuries now, and as he looked down on the earth, he felt it again.

He was not the creator, but he was the caretaker, and that meant that he had to clean up the messes from the flaws of the creator's creations. And there were a lot of them. He didn't even have the power to reach out and change the world on a fundamental level like he might have once done, all due to the agreement that he himself had made. The idea of doing that was more than enticing, these days. It was downright infuriating that he could not actually make it happen, change people to be better.

But this Dusk...he might be able to.

"Go, Daughter, and see to it that he learns the light."

"I will make sure that he grows strong, and on our side, Father."

The tigress bowed, and disappeared, her light flickering across the cosmos as she dropped downwards towards the planet. He shook his head, leaning back on his throne and doing his best to wash his hands of the matter.

After all, it wasn't as if Mercy would be flirting too hard with Dusk. She had grown attached to other mortals, but they had been interested in women. This Dusk had no such interest. If anything, he would be more inclined to try and turn Mercy into a man, though God chuckled at the thought. If that were to happen, he looked forward to seeing the mortal's attempt. There would be a nasty surprise there.

Regardless, it was done. The order had been given, and Mercy would be going to the world below, making her way towards Dusk. If she could turn him, then he and Heaven would have an ally such as they hadn't had for millennia. If she could not...

Well, they would have to find another plan.

After all, when it came down to it, the apocalypse could be pushed forward a few centuries. It wasn't like the mortals weren't already sinful enough. But he was obligated to give them one last chance...

Mercy descended upon the world of mortals, the hustle and bustle greater and more frenzied than ever she had experienced before. She could feel the pressure of so many lives around her, could feel the way that they were pushing and pulling, warping each other just by coming into contact with one another. The feeling of sin in the air was so great that it pushed at the light that formed her body during the long fall towards the world.

Things had changed since the last time that she had come to the planet. She remembered it, remembered the great pains of the colonial eras, when the world had been at war with itself, when the 'civilized' nations had been pushing their idea of conquering 'mercy' upon the other, uncivilized areas of the world.

She remembered sweeping down from the clouds, binding herself to several of the rulers, showing them the way that things were meant to be. She had shattered their grip on their armies, their colonies, turning them so that the people below them could have mercy on themselves, and rise up.

It was a non-traditional move, but it had worked.

But the world had changed again, and she needed to be in it to know how to handle it now.

She alighted on a rooftop, shimmering slowly as she took on the form of a mortal tigress. She could feel her clothes changing, her white dress becoming something...different. It was as if her power was taking on what was common here, and she allowed it to happen, curious what it would dress her as in this era.

Black leather flowed down her legs, and up to her hips. It was tight and clinging, and she could feel the way that it lifted her bottom, forcing it up and then out a little bit, almost as if she was some seductress rather than her father's daughter. She allowed it, however, letting it continue in idle curiosity.

Her bosom was likewise lifted, her chest and torso constricted within a tight black corset. She grunted as her breath was almost stolen from her, shaking her head as her breasts were made to look even bigger. Mercy huffed softly as she felt the pressure on her fur and flesh, and knew that this would need an adjustment.

A leather jacket followed, one that clinked with metal rings and more. She looked at it, and then at the fingerless gloves that appeared on her hands, and the high-heeled boots that she received as footwear. It was all quite different to the way that she had looked before, but Mercy wasn't opposed to it.

After all, sometimes the mercy that one dispensed could be seen as...rather harsh.

Still, she was not entirely sure that she was as keen on the tightness of the clothes, nor was it particularly suitable for someone like her to be in all black. Mercy shook her head, and the black leather turned white, with gold accents along the coat and along the metal. The tigress reached over her head, stretching out, and the high heels on her boots disappeared, bringing them down to flats again, and she released some of the tightness in her pants and the corset.

Not all of it, but enough to make it less slutty.

Mercy rolled her head from one side to the other, feeling her body settle into a more physical form again. Things were slightly stiff, slightly off, but that wasn't enough to take away the lovely feeling of being flesh and blood again. It had been too long.

And far too long since she'd seen someone worth 'helping.'

Her teeth clicked as she thought about how their first meeting would go. She had already decided how she would handle Dusk Von Doom if her father had ever assigned her to him, and now, the time had come.

Soon, he would see her as more than just Mercy. He would see her as his perfect necessity.

Mercy doubted that her father knew of just how often she looked down at the world. Not merely out of her duties as Mercy, of course, but rather for all the other things that she could do with the mortals. There was something about them, something that stoked her fires in a way that no angel ever could.

She had been with men throughout history. She had shown them her kindness, and then roped them in with her own power. The tigress had, time and again, shown them that she was the best thing that they could ever have...and if they valued their lives, their power, their very existence, they would show her just how much they valued her.

It was a working relationship, in her mind, a way to be with others that would never have worked with angels. They did not think in the same way...but mortals...

Oh, mortals...

The tigress squatted down on the rooftop, rubbing her hands through the dust that lay on the top of the building. They were used to living in squalor. They did not know the grandness of Heaven, nor the power of God. They did not know her...

They did not know Mercy...

She had had many men, but Dusk had captured her attention like none other. He had the power to rule the world, yet he chosen instead to merely indulge himself. He was educated, but he did not flaunt it. He was beautiful, yet he chose to have others learn to admire him rather than merely strut about like some peacock.

And, she would admit it, he was hot. Hot enough to have her interested in seeing what he could do in bed, to see what that cock would feel like inside of her.

Gay? It didn't matter. She would teach him how to value a woman, and how to indulge himself the way that he long-since should have. She would turn him, if she had to, and show him what it meant to be with a woman that required him.

The tigress was already getting damp in the crotch, and she started to understand the usefulness of the black colors. It hid the wet spots better...and particularly in a mortal body that was quick to turn to flames. She smiled, running her hands along her hips, and then up to her shoulders.

It might not have fit, but a dress was better, better suited for her needs, and for hiding them. And if she decided to take Dusk for a tumble...to begin her seduction early...then she would have a better way of doing that if she could just lift her skirts rather than get out of her pants. And besides, for all her mercy for him...she needed to look like something heavenly for a little while longer.

He'll learn...he'll learn...

Dusk woke in the middle of the night with a feeling of something being off. He didn't know what, didn't know why, but he could feel that there was something in the world that was different to what it had been. The black cat wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but he knew that he wasn't keen on it.

The cat slipped out of bed, making his way through his penthouse to the balcony. He didn't bother wrapping himself up in a robe. If someone wanted to stare at the naked cat on the balcony, then they were allowed. Perhaps his cock and his body would stoke a few fantasies for the night.

He leaned on the railing, looking out at the city. He felt as if something...hot...had landed in the world. Not devilish, nor anything that felt like Seraph, but rather something that was of both and neither at the same time.

What is this? he wondered, tightening his hands on the railing.

There was no answer for him, and he knew that if he was going to figure out what it was, he would have to find it. His powers from the Devil Himself might be able to track the feeling to its source, but something warned him against that. It felt...vulnerable, in a way, weak, as if he was opening himself up to something that he wasn't necessarily ready for.

Dusk hated to admit it, but hunting this feeling wasn't something that he was ready for. He had the armor, had the weapon that would allow him to fight it, he was sure - Hellsmith had made it very clear that the sword and coat were made for fighting his enemies - but as for hunting it down...

I'll wait, Dusk thought. If it wants me, then it will come for me, eventually. And if it doesn't...Well, it will make itself known when it hunts enough mortals. Someone else might even deal with it for me...

It was a strange upside to having the soul of the Devil Himself. Already, he had been given gifts, even pledges of loyalty just to make sure that he knew that certain demons were on his side. They were still in the beginnings of this game, and he knew that other pledges would continue to come, and demons that were interested in getting on his good side would need to do more and more extreme things to compete with those that came at the beginning. There would be those willing to take care of a stranger in the world.

The difficult part would come when the novelty of a mortal ruler wore off and the demons started thinking of him as an easy target. After all, he was still technically a mortal, even though he had the soul of Lucifer himself.

Once more, the black cat looked down at the ring that Selena had given him, taking in the sight of his own soul. He had expected it to be darker, more corrupted, and perhaps it was, on the inside. However, to look at it now, one might have thought that he had a better chance of getting through the pearly gates than most.

He ran his fingers along the edge of the ring, slowly shaking his head. No. Best not to think of it that way. He had gone through a lifetime of black magic and worse. There was no place for him past the pearly gates, and with what little he knew of heaven, he didn't want there to be. The mortal coil was good enough for him.

Even if this did give him a reminder that there were other planes out there that would be gunning for him.

Dusk turned from the balcony, looking back to the bedroom. One corrupted angel in his bed, one completely devoted demon watching over his sleep, and there were probably going to be a few hundred more worshipers like that well on the way with all the dicking around he planned to do over the next few months. Sooner or later, every straight guy in the city that was worth a damn was probably going to be questioning his sexuality. The black cat chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he turned his back to the city once more.

He just wished that he didn't feel burning eyes staring holes into his back. By the time he reached the bed again, he had half-convinced himself that they didn't exist...but only half.

The End

Summary: A small meeting with the angels goes awry with an annoyed God and a rather obsessive daughter. Dusk continues his naughty plans.

Tags: M/M, F/solo, cat, tiger, angels, god, series, fantasy, urban fantasy, corruption, reflection, world building, character development,