Archive of Our Own ^beta

Andrealphus knew something was off the moment he arrived at Paimon’s palace. The air felt thick, suffocating, like they had stepped into a nauseated swirl of fog. The short trek the trio made from the foyer to the dining hall was like walking through wet sand.

Stella didn’t seem to notice the strangeness, or if she did, her passion for arguing with her new husband over how he paid more attention to their hatchling than Stella’s dress distracted her from the obscene phenomenon.

“Perhaps you should look up from fussing with Octavia for once!” Stella barked, angrily pulling her dress closer to her body to avoid Stolas’ talons. “This dress was hand-stitched, Stolas!”

Stolas glared at Stella. “If the train of your dress were shorter, Stella, then I wouldn’t have stepped on it.”

The arguing continued as they were led to their seats, and luckily for everyone, Stella was placed next to Andrealphus. Andrealphus, unfortunately, sat across from Stolas next to the head of the table, but he could manage a few hours conversing with his foolish nonsense. He was certain Stolas would go on and on about his work with the stars and tend to his featherless, homely daughter in the sling at his chest. Stella would likely drink until she couldn’t stand up, and Andrealphus would… well, he would do what he did best: swoon the room and count the minutes until he could leave.

Truthfully, Andrealphus wasn’t even sure why he was invited to the family dinner. He had assumed it was so Paimon could show off his new palace, a large brick castle with rich velvet drapery and roaring fires. It was beautiful, but there was something a little off, as though there was far more than met Andrealphus’ eyes.

Moments later, when Paimon entered the hall, Andrealphus began to consider there was much more about their invitation.

The great horned owl demon who stood so tall and unconcerned, as close to Lucifier’s side as he was, appeared before them wearing a… grimace? At the least, a twinge of pain crossed his face. At first glance, the king looked as regal and strong as he always did, but Andrealphus prided himself on seeing past what one wanted the world to see.

Crinkles at the corners of Paimon’s eyes, a slight shake to his hand as he crossed the room, and the unpreened feathers at the nape of his neck told a different story.

Yet, it almost felt as though Paimon wanted Andrealphus to see. His sharp eyes darted to Andrealphus and held them as he moved to his chair. Each small step he took brought the king unease, as though it hurt to move. Stolas and Stella were too preoccupied with glaring at each other to notice the soft hiss from Paimon as he sank into his chair.

Fascinating.

Once seated, Paimon looked down to his plate as the weight of the heavy, sickly-sweet scent grew. Andrealphus coughed as it tore into his lungs. Stella and Stolas appeared unfazed by it, and perhaps their hatred of each other was strong enough to take charge of the invading smell.

The first course arrived, and they silently ate the mouse stew. Stolas gave Octavia little morsels as Stella downed another glass of red wine. Andrealphus ate none of it as his attention was focused on Paimon and how he gripped the spoon handle like a man on the verge of collapse.

Andrealphus had been so focused that he didn’t notice Paimon’s eyes burning on him.

“Eat,” Paimon instructed, his eyes fixed on Andrealphus' face.

Andrealphus blinked and looked back down to his stew. He wasn’t a big fan of mice but ate it like he had never had food before. He scooped large spoonfuls into his mouth, swallowing meat, carrots, and potato, and when it was gone, he used a bread roll to scoop what was left of the gravy.

“Really, Andrealphus, calm yourself,” Stella tsked.

But when the next course came, root vegetables with a cream sauce, he found himself looking back to the king.

“Go on,” Paimon ordered. “All of it.”

Andrealphus turned back to Stella and Stolas, shocked by Paimon’s audacity and self-assuredness,, but the other two did not notice. In fact, it was like the other two couldn’t hear what Paimon had said at all.

Andrealphus ate every last bit of the cheese-covered vegetable dish. He could hear Stella’s groan of disgust next to him, but he felt weighted down by the fog in the room and the food in him. He wasn’t sure how he would make it to course three with the dizziness of sleep in the center of his mind, right between his eyes, and he wished he could lay down.

The thought of sleep, of heavy comfort and warmth, made Andrealphus’ body relax. He sank against the chair, his blood feeling like sap, and let out a heavy breath.

Quite suddenly, Paimon rose from his chair.

“Are you alright, Father?” Stolas began to push his chair back, but Paimon shook his head.

“Enjoy the meal,” Paimon instructed. “I find myself not feeling well. Good night.”

Andrealphus watched the king leave the dining hall, his eyes locked on Paimon’s long tail feathers as though they painted a trail to him. Andrealphus’ eyebrows drew together as he contemplated the meaning of Paimon’s words and actions.

“Of course, he would just leave,” Stolas said under his breath. “Always disappearing when things are no longer interesting to him.”

“I wish you would find Octavia less interesting,” Stella snapped. “Perhaps then I should be able to mother her as I should.”

“You can’t be serious!” Stolas hissed. “You barely even look at her!”

“That is because your hideous face is always in the way.”

“Well, would you like to hold her now?”

Stella downed her wine and grabbed Andrealphus’ untouched glass.“No, I am busy at the present moment, you idiot.”

Andrealphus rolled his eyes as Stolas and Stella’s voices rose into an argument and focused back on the nonexistent path Paimon had created. Then, a noise.

A soft hooting noise, deep and steady, called to Andrealphus. He turned to Stolas and Stella, but it once again seemed to be something only Andrealphus could sense.

It came again, a steady beat, and Andrealphus realized it was a song.

Andrealphus didn’t bother informing them when he rose from his seat. He moved down Paimon's path, following the scent and song through dark hallways. He seemed to be in a trance as he felt the heels of his boots step where Paimon’s talons had touched. No servants walked past him, and neither temptation of fire nor drink turned Andrealphus from his journey.

The path stopped at a great iron door with a carving of Paimon’s sigil. There was no door handle, and Andrealphus experimentally pressed his hand to the cold iron. To his surprise, the door gave way, and he fell through it onto his knees.

Andrealphus rose from the floor and turned to find the iron door still there. Andrealphus pushed on it to get back through, but it didn’t budge.

“Fuck!” Andrealphus cursed and turned back into the darkness.

He couldn’t see anything, and even after drawing a blue flame from his magic, he could still only see an arm’s length in front of him. The air in the room was heavier than it had been in the dining hall, heated and still in such a horrible way that Andrealphus could not breathe.

“Just need to find a way out,” Andrealphus whispered. “Just need to-”

The sound of footsteps silenced him. He held the flame out further, trying to see what was in the room. He could draw a sword made of solid ice and fight if he needed to, but his body was fighting the urge to stay awake.

“I hear you!” Andrealphus called out. “Show yourself!”

Suddenly, the floor gave way, and he was falling.

It happened so quickly that he didn’t have time to scream before he landed against something soft. The impact forced Andrealphus’ breath from his chest, and he coughed. Regaining himself, he tried to bring his flame back but was too tired. A horrible exhaustion, as though it was shot into his veins, consumed him. He tried to move but sank deeper into the softness, moving his head back and forth against soft pillows he could not see.

“Andrealphus,” a voice called. “You came.”

Andrealphus blinked desperately to see what was before him, but nothing emerged. He was in complete darkness, and if he fell asleep, he feared he would never wake again. To focus his mind, he thought about the voice, tried to place it in his memory, and finally, it struck him.

“Paimon?” Andrealphus called out.

One by one, candles emerged, lit, and floated around what he could now see was a large bed until they formed a circle around him. The bed was large with rich burgundy linens and bed covers. The linens smelled smokey, the rich scent of incense and thunderstorms. Dozens of pillows surrounded him, curving around the mattress to form a little indention where his body rested. It was almost as though he was in a nest…

The hooting song reappeared, only now Andrealphus knew it was Paimon. Andrealphus tried to rise from the nest but his arms and legs were heavy. No ropes bound him, but he could not lift even a finger.

“Where are you?” Andrealphus called out.

The hooting continued, so low and repetitive. Andrealphus didn’t know what else to do, so he tried to mimic the noise. He sounded ridiculous, but Paimon quickly returned the noise from the darkness. Back and forth, they sang until finally, Paimon emerged from the darkness onto the bed.

Andrealphus swallowed back a gasp at the sight. Paimon was nude, his body cloaked in dark feathers that lightened towards his hips and between his legs. Around him, a static energy formed, and a rich crimson mist floated along his curves. As he stepped to the nest, the mist followed him.

“You answered my call, little bird,” Paimon said as he approached the nest. “You are in my nest, lain before me like a feast.”

Paimon stepped into the nest and fell to his hands and knees to crawl over Andrealphus’ body. He was so much bigger than Andrealphus had ever imagined, and his very shadow covered most of Andrealphus. A strong desire to touch Paimon’s broad shoulders and rake his fingers through his feathers was bubbling in his stomach.

But even as Paimon settled over him, Andrealphus caught the little changes that gave it away. The scent was so strong, rich, and deep that Andrealphus wasn’t sure it would wash out of his feathers. Paimon lifted his tail feathers in a train not quite as beautiful as Andrealphus’ but he got the point.

A wicked idea formed in Andrealphus’ mind.

“Is it mating season, your highness?” Andrealphus purred, keeping his eyes on the delicate red markings along Paimon’s eyes. “Got a little itch you can’t scratch?”

Paimon clicked his beak and brought his face menacingly low to Andrealphus, but Andrealphus didn’t break.

“Don’t you get clever, boy,” Paimon ordered, his voice turning dark and sharp. “You are not in a position to play games.”

“Then what am I in a position to do for you?” Andrealphus whispered and brought his head up the small distance he could to rub his beak against Paimon’s.

Paimon sighed as he rubbed his beak back, and for that moment, they were in a silent comfort. Paimon’s face pressed against his own, and Andrealphus hated how touch-starved he was that he felt like he would cry at the tenderness.

“I can help you, my Highness,” Andrealphus soothed. “In whatever means necessary.”

Just like the fall, Paimon’s next move was unexpected. Paimon wrapped his arms under Andrealphus’ back to bring Andrealphus to his body. He sat them up so Andrealphus was cradled over his lap. Slowly, Paimon removed Andrealphus’ clothes, like one would to a doll, until Andrealphus was free of the restricting fabric.

“You are playing with fire, little bird,” Paimon warned. “Do you truly mean whatever means necessary?”

“I do,” Andrealphus whispered, raising his chin in an attempt of a kiss.

Instead of softness, Paimon grabbed Andrealphus by his jaw, squishing his cheeks and forcing his beak open. Andrealphus struggled against the urge to fight back when Paimon lowered his beak to his. Instead of a kiss, Paimon blew a dark stream of smoke into Andrealphus’ mouth. It tasted of pomegranate and dirt.

Paimon pulled away, and Andrealphus watched as the red swirls around Paimon’s eyes took flight, dancing around his white feathers. “It looks to me like you are in a position to have my children.”

Andrealphus pulled his head back. “What?”

Placing a hard hand on the bottom of Andrealphus’ stomach, between his hips, Paimon pressed hard. A sudden burning in Andrealphus’ body took his attention, and he cried out at the sharp pain. Life was back in his limbs, and he used it to fight the building pressure between his legs. He pried himself from Paimon’s grasp and fell against the nest, but it was too late.

The core of himself, a piece of him he had no reason to ever notice, felt a strange emptiness. Something tugged at him, and he pressed his hand where Paimon had touched and the empty space in his body cramped and twisted. On his soft blue feathers, right where Paimon had pressed, Paimon’s seal flowed on his body.

“What have you done?” Andrealphus cried out.

He tried to push himself back but felt a rush of slick from between his legs, and his cunt clenched for anything to fill it. It was a horrible emptiness, and Andrealphus had no choice but to push his hand down between his legs and press the heel of his palm against himself.

Paimon happily hooted as he watched Andrealphus struggle.

“What is happening?” Andrealphus tried again, feeling another rush of slick as his body tore at itself. “What did you do to me?”

His cloaca felt warm, puffy, and sore. He ground himself against his hand, trying to find relief. He threw his head back, and the soft, feathered skin felt even more sensitive as he rubbed himself.

Paimon crawled to Andrealphus, grabbed his legs, and pulled them apart. The shock of air between his thighs made him want to throw up with how deeply painful it was. Never in his life had he been this fucking horny, this needy of another body. He thrust his hips into the air, desperate to fuck whatever he could.

“Please!” Andrealphus nearly screamed. “Help me!”

Paimon placed his hand against the burning mark, and Andrealphus cried at the overwhelming pressure.

“I’ve given you what I need,” Paimon said. “A womb for my future heirs.”

A womb? That didn’t make sense. Andrealphus didn’t have that, didn’t need that. He started to fight, but the soft ruby lines still danced, soothing Andrealphus’ rapid heartbeat.

“You are alright, little bird,” Paimon said softly, grounding Andrealphus even as pain struck him. “You aren’t backing out on me now, are you?”

The sigil along Andrealphus’ womb glowed as Paimon hovered over him, and it was the most pain Andrealphus had ever known. He tried to reach between his legs, but Paimon pushed him away.

“Are you?” Paimon asked again.

Andrealphus shook his head, holding back tears as his cloaca throbbed.

Roughly, Paimon adjusted Andrealphus’ legs to lower himself against Andrealphus. He lined up his slit, wet and warm, against Andrealphus, and rocked his hips.

The pressure was a pleasurable pain, like pressing a wound to distract from the stinging. Andrealphus pressed his hips up and moaned at how sensitive the nerves along his slit had become.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Andrealphus sobbed. “Please, Paimon, please-”

His words were cut off as Paimon’s hand clasped around his neck, not hard enough to hurt but tight enough to know that it could.

“Look at how you beg to carry my eggs.” Paimon gently squeezed Andrealphus’ throat before moving his hand to cup Andrealphus’ cheek. “Don’t fear, little bird. I will take very good care of you.”

Paimon kissed Andrealphus hard, their beaks scraping against each other and their tongues fighting for control.

Paimon’s grinding was rough and quick, but such a soothing touch to the burning. It was like scratching an itch, and the moment Paimon stopped moving, Andrealphus knew he would be raw and sore, but for now, it was a beautiful pressure. Andrealphus was allowed to move his hands down between their bodies and rub the top of his slit where it was most sensitive, working his fingers as Paimon forced their slits together even harder.

The pressure had already been mounting before Paimon started to fuck him, and when Andrealphus’ first orgasm took him, he hoped the pain would end. But even as his body tightened and let go, it didn’t help, not in the slightest.

“It still hurts,” Andrealphus cried as he continued to rub the edges of his slit. “It didn’t help.”

Paimon didn’t pay any attention to him as he shifted, turning Andrealphus onto his side and lifting his left leg into the air to change the angle. Andrealphus moaned as different nerves were pressed, but it still didn’t help.

Even when Paimon came in a rush, his cum shooting into Andrealphus’ body, the burning was still there. Paimon sighed and pulled away from Andrealphus, their mixed cum flowing down his thighs. Andrealphus reached for Paimon, trying to grab him as the king fell heavily against the pillows away from him.

“More,” Andrealphus begged, reaching for Paimon with his legs splayed open.

“A rest, little bird,” Paimon sighed and waved Andrealphus’ concerns to the side.

But Andrealphus couldn’t rest. The burning was back in his cunt, and he pressed the palm of his hand against himself, seeking relief, but it wasn’t enough.

What was worse was a new tingling thought in his mind. Subtle, like a whisper, but it was growing louder.

Have his babies

It was a silly thought, but it blended so well with this fucked up plan to somehow convince Paimon he was important in his life. It would be an embarrassment if he carried Paimon’s eggs. He would be shamed. Stella would turn her face from him. Stolas would have every right to tease him.

But the voice in his mind was comforting. Have his babies, be his mistress, stay in comfort in this dark and cozy nest.

“You shall care for me?” Andrealphus asked, rubbing the top of his slit.

Paimon’s tuft flicked as his eyes widened. “I would, little bird.”

Andrealphus’ body cramped, and he rocked his hips against the uncomfortable feeling.

“Tell me how.”

Paimon clicked his beak in rapid succession, click click click, before speaking. “I would protect you. Keep you safe here in my nest. You would never need to work again. I will dress you in beautiful, fine robes. You will live the rest of your days in comfort.”

“You can’t promise that.” Andrealphus pressed his hand harder against himself.

Paimon grinned. “I can, Andrealphus, and I will.”

Hearing his name on Paimon’s lips shook an old, forgotten part of himself. Paimon said his name like a chant.

Paimon continued. “No one shall touch you but me. No one shall see you but me. I will be all you will ever know. No demon, regardless of status or title, deserves to see what is mine.”

The thought drove a wedge of want in Andrealphus. Andrealphus wouldn’t have to fight for power in the council anymore. He wouldn’t have to worry about his sister’s reputation, his brother-in-law’s stupidity, or his homely little niece.

What if he could stay full, warm, and safe in this nest?

“I want your eggs in me,” Andrealphus moaned. “Please make me gravid with your babies.”

Paimon’s tuft feathers shook, and he cocked his head to Andrealphus.

“You want that as well, don’t you?” Andrealphus asked, and making his fingers into a V, he slipped them down to his cloaca to spread it apart. “That isn’t nearly enough. Fill me, my king. I want my womb drowning in your cum.”

He fucked Paimon’s cum back inside his cunt with his fingers, scooping what was leaking out and pushing it back.

Paimon rushed back to Andrealphus’ side, flipped him over to his stomach, and lifted his hips by grabbing the base of his tail. Andrealphus begged pathetically for Paimon to fill him up, to fuck him, to do whatever he had to to make it work.

“Shut your beak, little bird,” Paimon ordered as he forced Andrealphus’ back to arch further to display his cunt. “By the end of the night, you will be bred like the good little bitch you are.”

Although Andrealphus could not see, he knew that Paimon was on his knees based on how he lifted his hips to fuck him. Their slits slid together, slick and wet from each other, and Andrealphus bit down on one of the embroidered pillows at the sensation. Paimon’s large hands trailed down Andrealphus’ sides and down to cup his stomach.

“You will be round with my eggs,” Paimon said as he fucked him. “I will keep you, my beautiful toy, down in our nest to grow our clutch.”

Andrealphus thought of what it would be like to be in the nest of fabric, soft cushions, and warm fleece and knew he would be comfortable here. He could sleep as long as he liked, and when he woke, he could beg to be fucked until he was satisfied. He would have the king’s eggs, and keep them safe. When he was empty, he would beg the king to fill him with more.

What a grand purpose he could serve.

“More,” Andrealphus moaned, pushing back. “I need more of you.”

Doing the opposite, Andrealphus cried his displeasure when Paimon drew away from his body.

“You want more?” The king asked.

Andrealphus fanned his tail out, and although it wasn’t as magnificent as from the backside, he knew the draw it was. He rattled his feathers, begging for Paimon to return.

“Yes,” Andrealphus arched his back until he feared it would crack. “I want to be full of you.”

Paimon’s traced along the edges of Andrealphus’ hips.

“Hush,” Paimon ordered. “There are benefits to my powers if you would like to try something new.”

Something rounded and hard pressed against Andrealphus’ slit. Andrealphus gasped as the sensation and he tried to look back to catch sight of what Paimon was pressing to his body. It was smooth and warm and thick.

“I’m unsure if you are aware of my shapeshifting abilities,” Paimon said. “I think you need something more than a cloacal kiss.”

“What-what…” Andrealphus tried, but Paimon pressed the length forward into Andrealphus’ body.

“If you want to act like a desperate animal,” Paimon whispered, his fingers digging into Andrealphus’ hips. “Then I will fuck you like one.”

The force of Paimon’s first thrust caught Andrealphus off guard. He had fucked himself with his fingers before but never with something so large, so firm. There was no pain at first, but instead, a shaking sensation of complete fullness. His cloaca had never been so full, and it was a satisfying indulgence.

“I will fuck you with cock and cunt,” Paimon growled. “I will fuck you until you are too heavy with my eggs to leave. You are mine now.”

Paimon pulled his cock out a few inches before thrusting hard back. Tears prickled Andrealphus’ eyes at the force, and he felt as though he was split, stretched, and torn in places he had never imagined. He squeaked out a careful sob and clutched at the sheets.

“I do not fuck little birds that can’t be what I need them to be,” Paimon told him.

Andrealphus didn’t know what to say, and he cried out when Paimon grabbed him by the arm to force him to his back.

Above Andrealphus was a king, mighty and strong. The crimson mist flooded the room and coated Paimon’s feathers. He watched as the edges of the king’s body blurred, and Andrealphus saw wings, horns, hooves, fangs of all sorts grow and leave in a whirlwind.

Paimon was a beast of all beasts, and Andrealphus was crying on the majestic figure’s cock.

“I can be what you need me to be,” Andrealphus said in a broken voice. “Don’t toss me aside.”

Paimon grabbed Andrealphus’ hips, lifting them from the mattress, and fucked him hard and rough. Andrealphus grabbed the sheets to stop his nails from cutting into his own flesh as the cock, far too large for his body, forced itself inside again and again.

Andrealphus knew it should hurt worse than it did, but instead, it quelled the horrible burning. Paimon’s cock reached every part of him he couldn’t, and when Paimon came with a growl, coating Andrealphus’ insides, the next round of burning was even less.

Paimon remained hard inside of Andrealphus, and when his cocked pumped the last shot of cum, Paimon began to fuck him again. Paimon’s eyes were focused on Andrealphus, his pupils large and taking nearly the entirety of his eyes. The red swirls on his face moved faster, and Andrealphus was drawn to the sight. It was only a few moments before Paimon was cumming again, this time falling on top of Andrealphus in an exhausted pile.

Yet, the burning persisted.

“I need more,” Andrealphus moaned.

Paimon groaned as he pushed up on his elbows, but Andrealphus wrapped his legs tight around Paimon’s hips, keeping them locked together. He kissed Paimon, licking the inside of his mouth, and moaned again. Andrealphus’ body felt broken with the heavier owl on top of him, but he was relieved when Paimon started to fuck him, slow and deep.

“How much can your little body hold?” Paimon asked.

Andrealphus nuzzled his beak against Paimon’s beak. “As much as you need me to hold. As much as it takes.”

By the time Paimon pulled out of Andrealphus’ body, Andrealphus was a wreck. Cum covered his thighs, his cunt, and his stomach.

Gently, Paimon preened Andrealphus’ neck and the small feathers along his jaw. Andrealphus cooed and let his eyes grow heavy.

“Rest, little bird,” Paimon ordered. “You have a job to do.”

Andrealphus let off a soft ‘mm’ as he placed his hand on his cum bloated stomach, and smiled when Paimon placed his own on top of his.

***

The next morning, Andrealphus woke up in a sunlit room. It was the same bed as the night before, but now Andrealphus could see the room. Dark wood furniture, dark drapes, and a large bed took up the majority of the room. Unlit candles littered the room and Andrealphus searched for how he had fallen into this space the night before, but turned up nothing.

He found a white satin nightgown and matching robe waiting for him on the chair. He rose from the bed and hissed at the aches in his body. He felt as though he had run through every cycle of Hell and back, and it stung to close his legs. The memories of last night flooded back to him and his hands ran to his stomach. He found the smallest of curves, which could truthfully be anything.

“He couldn’t have been serious?” Andrealphus said to himself.

Before him, he found a full-length mirror, and he approached it. Although that marking was faint, he saw the glow of Paimon’s sigil across his stomach. Andrealphus placed his hand against the curve, and smiled to himself.

“He said he shall protect us,” Andrealphus smiled. “Perhaps we should let him.”

An imp in Paimon’s livery entered the room, offering his services to help dress Andrealphus.

“The king would like to present you with this,” the imp held out a small box. “He said he would like to see you wear it.”

Andrealphus opened the box to find a pendant bearing Paimon’s sigil, the same as the one on his stomach, on a silver chain. Andrealphus placed the pendant around his neck and felt its weight on his chest. He wondered if he should be ashamed to wear another Goetia’s sigil, but he strangely didn’t.

Once proper, the little imp ushered him back to the nest, and a full breakfast spread was brought to him only a few moments later. Andrealphus ate happily, and he spent the rest of the morning preening himself in the large attached bath.

For the first time in years, he felt relaxed, and he was fully prepared to do some more relaxing in the nest with a book when the door opened and Stolas appeared.

The young father looked exhausted with his featherless excuse of a baby in his arms. Stolas blinked hard, as though he wasn’t sure what he was witnessing.

“Andrealphus?” Stolas said. “What are you doing in my father’s chambers?”

Andrealphus smiled. “I believe these are my chambers now as well, Stolas.”

Stolas narrowed his eyes, focusing on the pendant around Andrealphus’ neck.. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Andrealphus cooed as he snuggled deeper into the nest, Paimon’s pendant displayed proudly. “That you may consider me your new step-father.”