The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Snuggled
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Metokai was having an extremely bad day.

Everything should have been so simple. Slip into Lyzikanth, buy an abandoned building, set up a teleportation circle, and slip back out. Easy-peasy, right? Even a hatchling could manage that.

Metokai had found a way to fuck it up, however. An innocuous good deed, a homeless man healed, drew more attention than she’d anticipated. She should have foreseen that; even the lovably meatheaded Nyze knew it was a bad idea. Yet Metokai, once again consumed by her arrogance, hadn't listened.

And now things were falling apart. Nilah, Xennia and doubtless many others knew about their presence. They might be forced to flee, their cover blown, their mission failed. They would retreat back to the Demon Realm, tails between their legs and souls filled with shame.

The thought mortified her. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, more anathema to her than failing the Demon Lord again. She could envision it, even now: Psytalla’s disappointed expression, her raised voice, her proclamation of banishment. To be cast away from Psytalla’s light forever, exiled for her many and repeated fuckups… that would be tantamount to death for Metokai.

So, she gambled. Desperately.

And prayed it would work.

******

Metokai’s internal catastrophizing was rudely interrupted by a sensation on her right hand. She looked down, marveling at the smooth, illusory human skin disguising her paw beneath, and saw another hand encircled around hers. Her gaze traced upwards, past a slender wrist, up a muscular arm, and finally to the face of…

The serpent.

“Serpent?” she asked softly enough that nobody else could overhear them. She cast a furtive glance towards Nilah and Xennia, who were five feet ahead, leading them through the back alleys. Valex and Rixu walked directly behind them, chatting casually.

Metokai’s gaze snapped back to Nyze, who smiled warmly. “You’re spiraling again,” she whispered in response.

“What? I am not!” Metokai hissed back, with far more outrage than she’d intended. She was having a hard time keeping her emotions under control.

Nyze’s grip tightened around her hand. “C’mon now, Metokai. I know you well enough to tell when you’re hurting, even behind that practiced po-face of yours.”

Nyze was infuriating, as always. Somehow, she always had the ability to see past Metokai’s veneer, to lay her soul bare with nothing more than a glance. Her defenses were useless against the perceptive serpent, making further denial pointless.

“I can’t…” she began, choking on the words. Somehow, being perceived like this was exceptionally disconcerting for her, and her usual stoicism vanished. The words simply wouldn’t come.

“I know,” Nyze responded, somehow managing to understand what she meant perfectly. “You won’t. We won’t. I trust Nilah, and we can make this work.”

It was nice to hear those words, even if she didn’t quite believe them. She squeezed Nyze’s hand back, clinging onto it like a lifeline.

“That we is important, by the way,” Nyze added, “We’re doing this together. You’re not on your own, Metokai.”

Normally Metokai would have protested; she’d learned time and again the only one she could truly trust was herself. Even so, indulging in the foolish hope of the serpent’s words for just a few moments warmed her, deep inside.

Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing to trust that warmth, if only for a little while.

“Yes,” she responded, “I suppose we are.”

Four feet ahead of them, Metokai could have sworn she saw Valex’s ears flick… but it must have been her imagination.

******

Nilah’s house was nestled against Lyzikanth’s outermost wall, on the outside. If you asked one of the stuffier, wealthier types to describe the location, they might place it a few steps above ‘slum’ but a few below ‘a bad neighborhood,’ not that the folk living here cared much what the elites thought. Home was home, after all.

“Okay, so before we go in,” Nilah began, her voice wavering just a bit, “there’s something you should…”

She trailed off as Xennia charged right up to the front door and opened it wide. “MOM!” she shouted. “WE’RE HOME!”

“…for fuck’s sake…” Nilah muttered as everyone followed the firebrand teen inside.

An elegant woman in her sixties, with a soft face and a soft-spoken manner, appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron. “Hello, Xen,” she said in a sweetly singsong voice. “And hello there, everyone else! Why don’t you step inside and shut the door behind you so you can dispel those glamours?”

Everyone stared, slack-jawed, at the matronly lady. “Who…” Nyze began, as Nilah followed everyone inside and shut the door.

“My name is Kwerve. I’m Xennia’s adoptive mother,” the woman explained, spreading her arms wide in welcome.

“I thought Nilah was…” Valex asked, not quite sure how to finish that sentence.

“They’re both my Mom!” Xennia said proudly.

“Kwerve is my… uh… roommate…” Nilah offered weakly, not looking at anyone in particular.

Everyone turned to stare at her with near-identical incredulous expressions. Even Valex, the least versed in queer culture out of the lot of them, didn’t buy that excuse.

“Riiiiiiight,” Rixu said, folding his arms and smirking knowingly. “Roommate. Gal pal. Heterosexual life partner.”

Kwerve emitted a light tinkling laugh, twisting a lock of her long brown hair around her finger. “Come now, Dear, there’s no reason to be secretive around this bunch. Let’s clear the air, shall we?” Kwerve strode over to Nilah with purpose and planted a big, wet smooch on her cheek, simultaneously snaking a hand around her waist. “The two of us are wives, in spirit if not legally, and you lot are demons in disguise.”

Metokai turned to Xennia, one eyebrow raised. “You called ahead, I take it?”

Xennia rolled her eyes. “Like I was gonna bring a bunch of demons home without letting Mom know first? C’mon now, who do you take me for? Nilah?”

“Hey!” Nilah started to protest, only to have her lips sealed with another kiss from Kwerve.

“Right, well,” Metokai said, dispelling her glamour and shaking out her legs as she went from plantigrade to unguligrade. “I am apprehensive, but I also prefer dealings without deceit.” She extended her paw for a handshake, which Kwerve returned enthusiastically. “I am Metokai. Behind me are…”

“Nyze,” said Nyze, dispelling her own glamour.

“V-Valex,” added Valex, following suit.

“And Rixu,” finished up Rixu, who did nothing whatsoever because he had no glamour active.

Kwerve shook all their hands in turn, then shooed them along to the dining room. “Welcome to all of you. Any friend of Nilah’s or Xennia’s is a friend of mine, so please make yourselves at home. You’ll be our guests for the entire night.”

“Oh, we couldn’t impose. We can spend another night in the inn,” Metokai proffered.

“Nonsense, I won’t hear of it,” Kwerve said, folding her arms. “We have guest bedrooms, so family friends always stay with us. Now, please take a seat around the table. Dinner will be ready in about an hour, but in the meantime I’ll have Xennia bring over some cold drinks. I’m sure you have lots of business to discuss.”

“That we do,” Metokai said apprehensively.

******

Once everyone spent a few minutes around the dining table, unfrazzling their nerves and making light conversation over lemonade, Nyze zeroed in on Nilah with laser focus.

“Soooooooo…” she began, an undertone of smugness in her voice.

Nilah looked at the ceiling and twiddled her fingers. “So?”

“A wife, huh? Congratulations, Nilah! I never thought you’d settle down!” Nyze gushed, her grin shifting from sly to genuine.

Nilah rubbed the back of her head sheepishly; she wasn’t really used to discussing this with strangers. Indeed, in a society where homosexuality was heretical, talking about it openly could very well mean her arrest; she was quite unused to the radical and casual acceptance of her lifestyle the demons practiced. “Yes, well… s-she’s my better half.”

“She’s very sweet!” Valex said. “How did you two meet?”

Looking very much like a confused child at an academic competition who was just asked to spell brobdingnagian, Nilah gingerly began to tell the story. “Well, you see, around six years ago I had to attend a parent-teacher conference for Xennia…”

“I was misbehaving!” Xennia proudly declared as she entered the dining room, bearing a basket of warm rolls. “I beat up a kid who called me a ‘bastard child.’ Knocked out five of his teeth!” She set down the basket on the table, then proudly made a fist for emphasis.

Everyone looked at the light-skinned, freckled Xennia for a moment, then over to the dark-skinned Nilah, who shrugged. “I mean, it’s obvious we’re not blood-related. Doesn’t matter much to either one of us, and I’m still not sure why some stuck-up idiots out there give a shit about that kinda thing. Fucking kid deserved to get his teeth knocked out.”

Xennia chuckled. “We agree on that point, but my teacher, Ms. Kwerve, didn’t. Her and Nilah got into a shouting match about it, after which Kwerve asked Nilah out on a date.”

“That’s, uh…” Valex fished for words, unsure how to describe a hookup story that, from her perspective, seemed extremely odd.

“…Positively delightful!” Metokai said. “Why, it almost sounds like a storybook demonic romance. I take it you two have plenty of passionate arguments that deepen your relationship with each other?”

“U-Uh,” Nilah stammered at exactly the same moment Xennia declared, “They do!”

“XENNIA!” Nilah scolded, her cheeks burning.

“What?” she said with a knowing grin. “The walls are thin.”

Nilah’s blush deepened. “Now listen here, you little shithead…”

“As you can see, I still misbehave. It’s a lifestyle choice,” Xennia said petulantly, twirling around with a laugh and heading back to the kitchen.

Nilah planted her head in her hands and groaned. “That fucking brat… I swear to Sykzet…”

Everyone around the table broke into laughter while Nilah drowned in despair.

******

After a lovely dinner of stuffed cockatrice, Xennia brought the dinnertime conversation around to the pertinent topic. “So, Metokai, what were you saying about demonic world conquest?”

World conquest? That’s a bit of mission creep,” Metokai responded, rubbing her belly with her paws. One might presume that motion was the sign of a delicious meal beginning digestion, but Nyze knew Metokai better than that. The lamia gently placed her hand on Metokai’s shoulder, distracting the baphomet from the butterflies tearing up her stomach. She took a deep breath, then continued.

“For the moment, I was discussing the potential infiltration and subversion of Lyzikanth, with the ultimate goal of turning the city over to the Demon Realm with as little bloodshed as possible.”

Nilah leaned forwards; she’d been expecting this, having smelled conspiracy from the start. “For what purpose do you want to conquer Lyzikanth, exactly? Beyond our obvious value as a fortified border town, this place has shit-all to offer.”

“Short-term, it’s a response to the Hero’s recent attack on the Demon Lord’s castle. Long-term, it’s the first step in a campaign to destroy the Church of Holy Humanity and annex the entirety of Saimonica into the Demon Realm.”

Nilah let out a low whistle, her eyes shock-wide. “Destroy the Church? Are you joking?”

Nyze, a bit taken aback by how forward Metokai was being, looked down at the tiny baphomet and took note of her resolute expression. She knew damn well Metokai was making a dangerous gamble here by revealing so much information, but also trusted her judgement.

“I am not,” Metokai said. “I will spare you a detailed explanation of demonic politics, but… suffice to say, we have realized our policy of non-confrontation in pursuit of an at-all-costs peace has not led to any decrease in tensions with the human nations. Therefore, we believe a more assertive stance is required. Psytalla has sworn to personally cast down the White Monolith in Arcryid ere this campaign is concluded.”

Xennia slammed her palms on the table excitedly. “I like that idea. I really like it.”

Nilah rubbed her temple thoughtfully. “Nobody here is a friend of the Church, obviously, and we’ve been hiding away from them ever since I adopted Xennia. As you all know, that vile organization tried to assassinate her for the political choices of her father. Even so, to propose destroying them entirely…”

“Sounds what, unfair? Extremist?” Rixu said, bitterness tingeing his tone. His dislike of the Church was especially strong, even among those at the table, and he was not about to brook any wishy-washy talk of compromise.

“No, difficult,” Nilah retorted. “I would gladly dance on the grave of every Breeder, believe me. But the Church is huge, and fucking powerful.”

“So is the Demon Realm,” Nyze pointed out, “with the added benefit of not being misogynistic or homophobic. It’s pretty clear who’s in the right.”

“If I may,” Kwerve said, speaking up for the first time in the calm and stern tone of a veteran schoolteacher.  “The point of disagreement here is not the morality of destroying the Church, which we all agree on. Nilah’s simply concerned about the gargantuan effort it would require.”

Nilah shot her wife a thankful glance and nodded. “Yes, exactly. You’re talking about invading a country that takes up half the continent. You’d need armies. Huge ones, powerful, well-armed, well-trained.”

Metokai smiled thinly. “We have those. Aside from the standing forces of the Grand Unified Demonic Armies, the Evil Council has approved a general declaration of war and every demonic species will muster additional forces to bolster our numbers.”

Nilah wanted to ask why the demonic government was called the Evil Council, but decided it wasn’t the time nor place. “Fine, premise accepted. You’re here to subvert Lyzikanth’s defenses, so that the demon armies can roll in unopposed.”

“Ideally, yes,” Metokai said. “Our grievance is with the Church, not with the people of Saimonica. In fact, you have as much to gain by the Church’s destruction as we do. We would also prefer to avoid casualties among the Saimonican military, many of whom are simply hapless pawns of those in power.” She glanced over to Rixu, who coughed.

Nilah steepled her fingers and leaned back in her chair. “Okay, so let’s pretend you succeed. How would life under the Demon Realm be any better than life under the Church?”

Nyze pointed directly at Nilah, then over to Kwerve. “For starters, you two could get married. Officially.” The two wives looked at each other, sharing a cryptic expression nobody else at the table could read.

Metokai nodded. “Gay marriage is a celebrated part of demonic culture, yes. Beyond that, demonic administration would focus on rectifying the gross income inequality that is present in this city. We’d start by feeding, clothing and housing the homeless population. The aid I extended to your friend Baryoniz was just the beginning. We will guarantee free food, shelter, healing magic and income to every single resident, thus striving to eradicate poverty entirely.”

“How…” Nilah said, taken aback, “how can you afford to do all that?”

Metokai leaned forwards, her gaze intense. “How can you afford not to? Economic cost means nothing in the face of moral obligation. A society’s value is not judged by wealth, but by how it treats its most disadvantaged members. By that metric, it’s difficult to look on Saimonica as anything other than a failed state.”

Nilah sighed and tapped her fingers on the table. “Look, it’s not like I disagree with you. I agree wholeheartedly, in fact. But… it sounds impossible. Utopian. More like fantasy than reality. And if you fail and the Church wins, the cost will be cataclysmic… not just for the people of this city, but for me and my family.”

“And the cost of doing nothing?” Metokai pressed. “Your daughter is wanted by the Church. Even if they’ve given up active pursuit, at some point she’ll be flagged by a checkpoint or outed by a sharp-eyed Breeder. YOU are wanted by the Church, Nilah. We are offering a life free from that fear. Indeed, we are offering to destroy the source of that fear, utterly and completely.”

There was a long silence as everyone present ruminated. Just as it seemed the mental logjam might never break, it was Kwerve who finally spoke up with a proposal. “Dear, this affects all three of us equally. Why don’t we vote? Majority wins.”

Nilah nodded. “Yeah, fine. I’ll accept that.”

Xennia rose to her feet enthusiastically. “In that case, I vote to help the demons!”

Nilah rolled her eyes. “I knew what your answer would be. Dear?”

Kwerve stroked her chin for a moment. “It’s a big risk, and I’m admittedly hesitant to trust people I just met today… but they did pass Xennia’s smell test, so I think they’re fine. And if we’re to create a better world for our daughter, not to mention all our students, then the risk is worth it. I say we do it.”

Nilah slid down in her chair, groaning. “There goes my peaceful retirement again. Mere hours after my body is freshly healed and I dive right back into the shit.”

“To be fair,” Metokai interjected sourly, “you are the one who interfered in our affairs in the first place.”

“I suppose I did. Time to take responsibility for that, huh?” She wallowed in thought for a moment before sitting up straight again. “Far be it from me to go against my wife and daughter. I vote to help you as well.”

Metokai nodded, and something like relief washed across her face, although only Nyze could read the expression. “Glad to hear it. Now, shall we discuss specifics?”

“Over dessert,” Kwerve said, rising to her feet. “Heavy topics deserve heavier sweets. Who wants lava cake?”

“OOH! I DO!” Valex said enthusiastically, happy to have something to talk about after a discussion that had mostly left her behind.

As Kwerve went to the kitchen to fetch the cake, Nyze snaked her hand under the table and entwined her fingers with Metokai’s paw. The baphomet, once again secretly grateful for the serpent’s silent support, offered no protest.

******

As Kwerve set about putting the final touches on the lava cake, she started briefly when a silvery pair of fox ears entered her peripheral vision. She turned to see Valex, who was bringing an armful of dirty dishes into the kitchen.

“Oh my, you startled me!” she said, hand clutched to her chest. “You walk very quietly.”

“Sorry, force of habit,” Valex said, setting the dishes down near the washing basin. “Moving stealthily is second-nature to me, more muscle memory than anything. I’ve had an interesting career trajectory, much like Nilah.”

Kwerve smiled gently. “I can only imagine. You don’t have to do that, I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Valex waved her off. “Oh no, I insist. Besides, there’s something I wanted to ask you about, privately.”

Kwerve tilted her head. “And what might that be?”

Having submerged the dishes in the wash basin, Valex dried her hands on a nearby towel. “You mentioned you have multiple guest bedrooms here?”

“What an odd question. Yes, we do. One is on the second floor, adjacent to Xennia’s bedroom. The other is the attic, which we converted with some remodeling and furniture. Xennia has a lot of sleepovers, so two extra bedrooms are sometimes required.”

Valex grinned, and a smidge of conspiracy entered her tone. “In that case, might I make a request regarding sleeping arrangements for me and my friends?”

Kwerve was intrigued. “Oh?”

Valex pattered over and whispered something in Kwerve’s ear. The matronly schoolteacher nodded once, and her smile grew to match Valex’s own.

******

The guest room on the second floor was cozy, mainly rendered in pink curtains and sheets with purple accents on the furniture and deep blue plush carpet. Valex wasted no time diving directly into one of the fluffy feather beds, emitting a squeal of pure delight as she rolled around in the softness. Rixu, ever the spoilsport, folded his arms and glared at her.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“You set this up, didn’t you?” he asked accusatorily. “Herded Nyze and Metokai into a private room together?”

“Of course I did,” she replied matter-of-factly. “They need some alone time.”

“Do they?”

She nodded vigorously. “Metokai especially. Nyze is the only one she opens up to. You and I are just the third and fourth wheel, respectively.”

“Fourth and fifth, surely,” Rixu retorted, although his voice was softer than before, “considering the Demon Lord is entangled somehow too. Woe betide me, I’ve surrounded myself with love-troubled lesbians.”

Valex sat up, her ears swiveled forwards. “How do you figure?”

“I mean, Nyze, Metokai and Psytalla are all gay as fuck and have some kinda angsty throuple going on. Add you to the mix, and...”

“I’m bisexual, actually,” Valex replied.

There was a beat as Rixu stared at her. “What?”

“What?” Valex echoed back. “That’s the right term for it, no? At least according to Metokai.”

“You mean you’re attracted to both...” Rixu gawped.

“Uh-huh,” Valex replied, her tail swishing back and forth at a languid pace. “Been that way all my life, although I’ve only learned the vocabulary to express it recently. Really now, Rixu, is it that surprising, considering everything else?”

“No,” he conceded, “I suppose not.”

Today was a day for revelations, it would seem, and Rixu was thoroughly exhausted as a result. After a bit more small talk, Valex excused herself to the bathroom for a soak, and Rixu climbed into his bed and pulled the covers over his head. As he dozed off, he whispered his well-wishes towards the attic above them.

******

“I can’t believe they gave us our own room,” Nyze said, slithering around the cozy attic and studying the rustic, hand-carved wooden furniture.

“Valex probably had something to do with it…” Metokai muttered tiredly.

“What do you mean?”

“Just a hunch.” Metokai beelined straight for the large bed, tipping over and faceplanting on the soft mattress unceremoniously. “Ugh, that was exhausting.”

Nyze, who was uncertain about whether a bed designed for humans would be able to hold her weight, coiled up on the floor nearby instead. “I’ll bet. What I wouldn’t give for the comforts of Gary’s bar right now, and one of his awful, intoxicating brews. Hell, I even miss that grating voice of his.”

“Strangely, so do I,” Metokai said, rolling around onto her back so she was staring up at the timbers which held up the ceiling. “He sounds like an ash hurricane slowly dismantling a rusty pipe organ, but even that grows on you after a while.”

Nyze shot her a sideways glance. “Really? I always thought he sounded like a choir of plucked hens attempting to screech out the entire demonic penal code.”

Metokai blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense. What would that even sound like? Hens can’t speak, let alone read. Demonic jurisprudence is surely beyond them.”

Nyze chuckled and flopped backwards, landing her torso square on the bed while her snake tail still coiled on the floor. “Don’t think about it too hard, Metokai. It’s a metaphor. It’s not supposed to make sense.”

“I’m not sure that’s correct…” Metokai frowned.

“I’m joking, Metokai,” Nyze said, poking the baphomet’s arm.

“Ah, of course. Apologies, serpent, I am truly bone-tired.”

Nyze laid a sympathetic hand on Metokai’s forearm. “I can only imagine. All that must have been so stressful for you.”

“You have no idea, serpent,” Metokai said, shielding her eyes from the orbs of yellow-filtered magelight burning near the ceiling. “You tried to warn me that acting as I did, healing that man, would lead to problems. I should have trusted your expertise on human society.”

Nyze spoke gently, deeply aware of Metokai’s vulnerable state of mind. “It all worked out, though.”

“What if it hadn’t?” Metokai pressed, closing her eyes. “Serpent, I can’t… I can’t fail her again. Psytalla is my everything, and I… I need to be useful to her.”

Nyze continued her reassurance, squeezing Metokai’s arm. “You are. You’re important to her. Indispensable, even.”

“For the moment. My service is the only thing a pathetic fuckup like me has to offer.” Metokai didn’t ever open up like this, to anyone, but something about Nyze made her feel safe... like it was okay to be vulnerable, just this once.

With a twist of her tail, Nyze rolled her torso over and hovered over Metokai, planting one arm on either side of the baphomet’s shoulders. “Metokai, listen to me. You’re selling yourself short. In addition to being the High General, you’re indispensable in other ways. You’re the most amazing mage I’ve ever met, your expert knowledge is broad and always useful, and your singular focus and ability to solve problems is unparalleled. Positions in demonic governance are based on merit and strength, and you’ve earned your place.”

“I...” Metokai stared deep into Nyze’s blood-red irises, losing her train of thought for a moment. “I know that, serpent, it’s just... do you ever feel like you’re faking it? Faking everything? And that you’re one step away from being exposed for the pitiful imposter that you truly are?”

Nyze nodded. “Yeah, all the time.”

“How... how do you deal with it?” Metokai asked, her voice quivering and vulnerable.

“I rely on those around me,” Nyze answered. “We’re never truly alone, Metokai. Every moment of our lives, we’re depending on the people around us, whether we realize it or not. It’s okay to be weak sometimes, to lean on your friends.”

“I can’t...” Metokai began to protest.

“You can. When it’s just you and me, by ourselves and nobody else around, you can be weak and vulnerable. And I will do everything I can to support you, Metokai. I promise. Can you trust me with that?”

Metokai wasn’t one to trust easily. She’d been hurt before, many times, and eventually grown to rely on nobody but herself. Demons were supposed to be strong, after all. Strength was everything.

But was it? Strength didn’t exist in a vacuum, either. Psytalla relied on others, trusted others... trusted her. Perhaps she needed something similar, to help her carry the weight of her responsibilities. Perhaps it was okay to not have all the answers.

“I... I think I can,” Metokai said slowly, “but only when we’re alone. If anyone else...”

“Our little secret,” Nyze responded. She reared back on her tail, agently took Metokai by her arms and slowly pulled her into the coils of her tail. The baphomet let out a tiny squeak of protest, but snuggled into Nyze’s coils all the same.

“There you go, Metokai. Safe and snug,” Nyze cooed as she gently stroked Metokai’s horns. “Get some sleep, you’ve earned it.”

Metokai nodded and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, she wondered to herself why Nyze was so warm all the time; serpents were supposed to be ectothermic. Maybe it was the warmth of her soul that suffused her whole body.

A few minutes later, Metokai was lightly snoring. Nyze looked on her affectionately for a few moments before closing her own eyes.

And so, Metokai had a very good night.

Greetings, my dear readers. I'm back with another chapter, and putting Metokai through the wringer this time!

If I may be serious for a moment... Metokai is the character closest to myself, just two hairs shy of being an author avatar. Because of that, her insecurities are often reflective of my own; I did something similar in Giant Robot Reincarnation with the character of Lydia. That said, I hope you enjoy her character's development, because it's informed greatly by my own mental health struggles.

I've set up a Discord server focused on my stories and gay shenanigans. If you'd like to chat with me and my queer friends, stop by sometime!

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