Alastor's Fading Static Hatred (Radiodust mpreg)

Chapter Seventy-Four: Pages and Tears

•Mercy's point of view•

I held Calypso's hands protectively under the table as I messed with the pale yellow lizard person's emotions in a bad way. He silently sat there, thoroughly alarmed as an abnormal amount of tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Alright, I'll clean up." Fae sighed when everyone at the table seemed to be too focused on what I was doing to the ugly snake to do anything.

~~~~~

I emotionally abused him with my powers, staring into his soul from my perch on the ledge of the entrance where he had his hands and feet chained together. Dad had his cane in the chain's links to prevent our "guest" from moving.

The lizard writhed and sobbed as I brought his emotional health to the ground. Dad was amused at the man's cries, his eyes narrowed with amusement as the yellow bastard squirmed.

I decided that I'd done enough and gently floated down so my toes barely touched the wooden floorboards of my home. I caught that his eyes were directed at Calypso's short sports dress and I stared down at the yellow demon with my malice reflected back at me in his widened white eyes.

A high-pitched growl that sounded remarkably like Aunt Cherri's dirt bike on rough terrain erupted from deep in my throat. I recognized it. It was the type of territorial growl that Aunt Vaggie makes whenever someone catcalls Aunt Charlie: a noise that shows "THIS PERSON IS MINE, BACK OFF" in a relationship of the romantic type.

"Fuck off." I hissed at him before gliding over to Calypso and engulfing her in a hug.

"Hello, Mercy." Calypso greeted me quietly.

"Hey, amor." I replied, peeking at the book she was reading. "Whatcha find in the library?"

"Oh, I got this from a nice man with the palest hair I'd ever seen and the warmest appearance. It's a handwritten book about different types of demons and I found this page with a redhead with dark glasses and black wings labeled a "fallen angel". He doesn't look anything like Papa does and I'm a little bit torn between asking the man who gave me the book or asking Papa." Calypso explained, turning to the page with the redhead she'd described.

"Oh, I recognize him. He's the man who works at Pops's favorite café and bar. I think his name was Crowley." I mused. "There could be various types of fallen angels. You never know."

Calypso nodded absently before springing to her feet and running up the stairs to find one of her fathers with the book in her arms and her tail swishing behind her. I lazily floated after her.

"Hey, uh, Papa? Is there more than one type of fallen angel?" Calypso asked.

"Yup. Why do you ask?" Jeff replied, stirring his tea a little bit. Calypso showed him the page with the redhead and recognition sparked in his eyes.

"That's Raphael, isn't it? He was an archangel before he got thrown out of heaven in the beginning of the world. He actually made most of me and the stars that hide Heaven from human eyes. I think he goes by the name Anthony J. Crowley now and lives with his husband, Aziraphale." Jeff thought aloud, narrowing his eyes at the page as he leaned down. "This handwriting certainly belongs to Aziraphale though, so he must've done his research." Jeff chuckled. "Maybe you could do your own research and help update this journal." Jeff shrugged.

"Sounds fun. You could put down the most recent types of demons to surface in hell and you could improve your handwriting along the way." Fae suggested. "I mean, Vaggie and Jeff are two newer types of fallen angels. And there are hybrids, like Mercy and her siblings and your brother Nathan."

"I wanna do that now." Calypso decided. Jeff conjured an empty journal with a light purple cover in thin air and handed it to Calypso.

She bounced on her toes excitedly before running away to get her shoes on. I followed her with no hurry in my movements as she tried to find her other sock.