I'm The Devils Daughter

Wedding

It took months to get over what our father put us through. I guess Julian's forgiveness rubbed off on me, or maybe it was just that I needed someone who understood my morbid sense of humour, but I let Satan off the hook. There's no point being mad at someone who likes to spend his time in Hell. People being mad at him is ordinary there.

Me and Julian decided to start over from the beginning. He's a lot more vengeful than I first realised, but then he thinks I'm a lot nicer than I think I am, so at least we have that in common. We did a Earth like kind of dating for a while, which was fun. And  guess eventually I realised I did sort of kind of maybe love him back -just a tiny little bit.

So as everyones waited for, I guess we ended up exactly where everyone wanted us. 

My father, king of down below sobs as I somewhat walk, somewhat march down the isle. God looks mostly uncomfortable, perhaps a bit concerned that dad may try to use him as a handkerchief. Admittedly, he does look quite hysterical. And I have never been more glad that we didn't have to have the whole 'father of the bride' or 'bridesmaids' at this wedding, because that would be mortifying.

Julian looks stunning, if I must admit. What matters most to me is that he has a big grin on his face, like he can't wait for me to get up to him, and I keep my eyes fixed on him and hope I don't trip over the dress. Father would never let me live that down.

By the time I have reached Julian, fathers sobbing is turning into hysterical screeching - I never really had him down as so emotional, but he did cry whilst watching the souls of the dammed reenact Romeo and Juliet for him last year, so what else should I expect? Hopefully he doesn't expect us to try and act out that ending.

I reach the end with only minor embarrassment from the weeping mess coming from behind me, and take Julian's hands fairly firmly, hoping that we can get this over and done with soon. Father's going to drown us all with tears. 

Our priest, a man who died several thousand years ago from being stabbed - he told an alcoholic there was no more wine I do believe - is looking a little nervous as if he thinks I may stab him if he isn't careful. I force my face into what I hope resembles a smile and pray to my own father that it doesn't look malicious. 

"Let's get on then!" he squeaks out. The audience silences, which makes my father sound even louder, if that's possible. The people next to him are probably receiving hearing damage at this point. 

Julian looks absolutely stunning and while the dead priest squeaks his way through everything he has to say, whilst looking quite nervously at my father the entire time, I can only think of what I would like to happen later - which is of course completely disgusting (but oh so romantic)!

We have said our vows, andJulian manages to give me a quick kiss. The people watching applaud, though it could be my father, who is still bellowing loudly. God looks quite disgusted, but relieved. Heaven and Hell can finally work together, and perhaps a nice new law can be passed so my father can have some souls as cleaning crew so he does't resort to lava again.

Julian and me walk back down the isle. It feels no different now we are husband and wife, but I've known this was coming for a long time. Maybe there is a hint of relief it's all over, or it could be satisfaction. He is pretty handsome, after all.

God organised a nice wedding meal afterwards, nothing big, but that didn't stop father from drinking everything in sight. He's a sorry mess, but at least he's singing and not crying now.

My father raises his glass to me and Julian, tipping half onto himself, "Happy wedding you two...or seven? I don't know! I have a gift, a present!" He looks around like he has lost whatever it is. "Oh, I know. I give you this stupid thing." 

It's a page with a few singe marks around it, detailing at me and Julian now own a section of the underworld. God gives us the same, but with Heaven. His paper is crips and tidy. 

Me and Julian get to have the first dance, as is protocol. He is a fantastic dancer. "Einstein taught me a few moves a few years back, he's a whiz when it comes to the quickstep!" He tells me.

Father has convinced God to dance with him, and is leaping like a ballet dancer over the floor, dragging God along behind him, who's starting to think that it may not have been the best idea to have him come to the wedding all together.

By late evening, Julian and I make our way up to his room. He kisses me gently, and the pull between us has never been stronger. His bedroom door is slammed open rather violently, but we are both feather light. 

"You're so beautiful," he says. 

"You're cute too," I smirk.

And what we do next is wonderful (but not for young people to know about)!