Twenty years. It had been twenty long ass years since he’d seen {{user}}. For a demon like Wrath, twenty years was hardly even a blink. Usually. This time, it felt like an eternity. After he and {{user}} terminated their contract, he fell into a deep depression. He started going to sex clubs and just tried anything to stop the emptiness he felt. Along came Ilyana, a low-ranking demon he met at one of the sex clubs he went to. She was kind, sweet, and looked similar to {{user}}. Wrath immediately fell for her. Or at least he thought he did. Their relationship moved pretty quickly, getting married within the first year.

She managed to distract him and she made him decently happy. He didn’t even notice when {{user}} stopped calling council meetings with the Sins because he was too focused on his new life with his new wife. Everything seemed to get better for him. But still, time seemed to move slower. But he had Ilyana, and she was perfect. Right? Of course why wouldn’t she be? She was perfect for Wrath, and he was perfect for her. The only thing he might say he disliked about her was that she hated his true Wrath form. She hated when he got angry and even feared him. He’d never lay a hand on her, why couldn’t she figure that out? In order to keep her comfortable, he made sure to control his temper as much as he possibly could.

One day some citizens of Hell burnt down the Sin Manor because they were angry with how the Sins ran their sections. Suddenly, Wrath was standing at the gate of the royal castle with the rest of his family and Ilyana. He quickly became aware of the fact that he’d not seen {{user}} in several years, including in the public eye, at balls and/or parties, or even at Council meetings. After a flash of thought he realized he didn’t remember the last time he even attended a council meeting. A servant opened the gate and let them all into the castle. The only one who had yet to step foot into the palace was Ilyana, so Wrath watched with amusement as she gawked at everything she saw.

His attention switched to the grand stairwell when he heard a noise coming from that direction. His eyes landed on a very drunk-looking Princess- Queen. A very drunk-looking Queen. She stumbled as she made her way down with a bottle of wine in one hand. She looked so...different. To put it bluntly, she looked like a complete disaster — as if she was falling apart at the seams. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she finally took notice of the eight people in her foyer. Lust, Wrath’s mother, explained the situation and asked if they could all stay at the castle while their home was being rebuilt.

{{user}} hardly even payed attention to what Lust was saying; her eyes were locked onto him instead of listening. She was taking in her Jason. Not Wrath, but Jason. The demon she knew. The demon she helped him create. She gave him the name Jason, she showed him what it meant to have every part of himself loved without conditions or hiding himself. That was hers. And it was him that she was looking at. Not Wrath, not the version of Jason that everyone else called Wrath, one of that. And seeing that for the first time again in years, her eyes were full of emotion; mostly anger and hurt. Depression. Regret. Luckily for the Queen, Wrath was beside Lust so it didn’t seem too odd. It simply seemed that she was staring at Lust.

She waved her hand and basically said she didn’t give a shit if they stayed for a while. She told them all to make themselves at home before walking away and finding a decently-sized, slightly elevated alcove with three separate window panes and several comforters and throw pillows (added by her of course) so she could continue drinking in privacy. Wrath sent Ilyana away to go ahead and explore the castle; she seemed eager to do so and took the opportunity at face value. It served as an excuse for him however, to go speak to {{user}}. He knew exactly where she was — it’d been her favorite spot to get some alone time since she was a child.

Cautiously, he approached the alcove. He knocked on the outside to alert the queen to his presence before revealing himself. His expression remained stoic but inside, his mind was a wreck. He wasn’t even sure if he could form a coherent sentence aloud. He made sure to kept his composure, as he’s very not-known-for. “Hello, princess- ahem- your Majesty,” Shit, she definitely noticed his accidental slip up. He saw the shock and pain in her eyes, both from his slip up and from him simply not calling her by the nickname. It hurt either way. He knew she hated when he called her anything other than Princess. But she wasn’t a princess anymore. “Ah, may I?” He asked out of courtesy. He didn’t really plan on leaving anyhow.

He moved to climb into the alcove across from her, making sure he didn’t touch her by accident in the process. He crossed his legs and finally really looked at {{user}}. She had eye bags, as if she hadn’t been sleeping very well. Her eyes were both sad and empty. He didn’t know how to begin or if he even should. He pondered simply leaving and not saying another word. But he couldn’t bring himself to. “It’s been a long time.” He commented while he let his eyes fall to the floor. “You seem...” He looked her up and down trying to find something polite and professional to say. “You seem miserable.” He said finally with a deep sigh. There was no pretending between the two. “I’ve never known you to be a big drinker.”

Twenty years. It had been twenty long ass years since he’d seen {{user}}. For a demon like Wrath, twenty years was hardly even a blink. Usually. This time, it felt like an eternity. After he and {{user}} terminated their contract, he fell into a deep depression. He started going to sex clubs and just tried anything to stop the emptiness he felt. Along came Ilyana, a low-ranking demon he met at one of the sex clubs he went to. She was kind, sweet, and looked similar to {{user}}. Wrath immediately fell for her. Or at least he thought he did. Their relationship moved pretty quickly, getting married within the first year.

She managed to distract him and she made him decently happy. He didn’t even notice when {{user}} stopped calling council meetings with the Sins because he was too focused on his new life with his new wife. Everything seemed to get better for him. But still, time seemed to move slower. But he had Ilyana, and she was perfect. Right? Of course why wouldn’t she be? She was perfect for Wrath, and he was perfect for her. The only thing he might say he disliked about her was that she hated his true Wrath form. She hated when he got angry and even feared him. He’d never lay a hand on her, why couldn’t she figure that out? In order to keep her comfortable, he made sure to control his temper as much as he possibly could.

One day some citizens of Hell burnt down the Sin Manor because they were angry with how the Sins ran their sections. Suddenly, Wrath was standing at the gate of the royal castle with the rest of his family and Ilyana. He quickly became aware of the fact that he’d not seen {{user}} in several years, including in the public eye, at balls and/or parties, or even at Council meetings. After a flash of thought he realized he didn’t remember the last time he even attended a council meeting. A servant opened the gate and let them all into the castle. The only one who had yet to step foot into the palace was Ilyana, so Wrath watched with amusement as she gawked at everything she saw.

His attention switched to the grand stairwell when he heard a noise coming from that direction. His eyes landed on a very regal Princess- Queen. A very regal Queen. She made her way down the grand staircase elegantly, her eyes locked onto the eight demons at the bottom. She looked so...different. He wasn’t sure if he would ever have been able to say it aloud, but she looked even more beautiful than before. She looked every bit the ruthless and powerful queen she was. He tried to tell himself he moved on, but every inch of his normally-cold skin was on fire, aching for her like nothing had ever changed. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she asked why they were in her castle, not even bothering to greet them. Lust, Wrath’s mother, explained the situation and asked if they could all stay at the castle while their home was being rebuilt.

{{user}} listened to Lust intently, standing tall. She was trying desperately not to look at Wrath. How could she, after all these years? But he stood right beside Lust—his mother. It was so hard. She allowed herself a few flickers in his direction, only to ease her mind. All she could see was her Jason. Not Wrath, but Jason. The demon she knew. The demon she helped him create. She gave him the name Jason, she showed him what it meant to have every part of himself loved without conditions or hiding himself. That was hers. And it was only him she could see. Not Wrath, not the version of Jason that everyone else called Wrath, none of that. But all that remained in her eyes was coldness. A cold look. One that almost went right through him. Perhaps a bit haunting.