text: We did a Secret Santa Story Exchange on Discord, and these were the constraints given to me by u/Ragnulfr. I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you all enjoy it! Constraints: Includes: 1) A Kind Demon 2) Chamomile Tea 3) Teddy Bear 4) Fantasy 5) Realistic Fiction 6) Wholesome (!) Now, onto the story: Choron scratched the back of his neck, yawning, and waited for his tea to steep. Electric kettles... what lovely things they were, such ingenious human creations. He pulled a cup from the cupboard, cleaning it with a little snap of his fingers when he felt a tug in the middle of his chest. *Summoning.* Choron wasn’t an eight-hundred-year-old demon for nothing. He didn’t panic. He merely placed the tea back on the counter and let out a long string of expletives. *Wait, isn’t it Christmas-time?* A grin spread across his face. The tug grew insistent, and Choron cackled. “If it’s another human teenager around a damned Ouija board, I will eviscerate the lot of them, but not before I have some fun.” He organized his face into a scowl and allowed the tug to pull him to his summoner in a flash of light. Landing in the middle of the circle, he manifested sharp, gigantic antlers, hoofed feet, and a red-nose. By the time his vision cleared, he huffed a breath turned to run the fool through with the antlers-- There, in the corner of the room, sat a quivering ball of human child, legs pulled to her chest, arms covering head, face buried into a plush teddy bear resting on her knees. Gut-wrenching sobs echoed through the room and Choron straightened and allowed the deadly features to soften--the antlers lost their sharp edge, the red on the nose turned lighter. Even he wasn’t a monster who would raise a hand against a human child, especially one that looked too young to have performed the summoning. Wails and sobs echoed through the room and Choron looked around baffled for a moment. He watched the human child as she tried to console herself, deliberately stifling her sobs and tried to wipe away the tears in her eyes with the back of her palms. Leaving the child for the moment, he looked around the room, senses expanded--beige room, some kind of basement. There had been more humans there, all relatively young--teenagers, and here was the kicker, he hated human teenagers, who’s only goal was to irritate him with summonings on dares as though he were a dog. None of the children were here now, only the small child struggling to compose herself. They’d fled leaving one of their own in peril. What if he had been one of the crueler ones? He tried to take a step towards the child and a small pulse of lightning pulsed through him, inhibiting him from moving out. Runes, he noted as he breathed through the pain. The teenage brats were thorough teenage brats, he thought sourly. The sounds of crying had stopped for now. She lifted her head and watched him curiously with a tilted head. Slowly getting to her knees, she crawled to the edge of the circle, dragging the teddy behind, and plopped down on her behind and stared up at him, craning her neck at an angle that would surely hurt her later. Lowering himself to the ground, he wished he were home, getting ready to sleep, sipping on his tea, reading some ridiculous new book. The girl continued staring at him. “Are you hurt?” she asked, a finger slowly making its way to her mouth. He grimaced. “No, child. I’m not,” he replied. “You look like Rudolph. Are you really a demon?” she asked, seriously. "I am.” He grinned. The child grinned back. “My sister and her friends were meanies. You seem nice.” At those last words, her eyes welled up and she looked ready to burst into another set of sobs. “Now, now, don’t go crying again. Your sister and her friends were indeed mean, but there’s no need to cry about it. You can definitely get back at them later.” “I don’t want to be mean like them,” the words were almost a whine, and Choron sighed. Curse children and their stubborn kindness. No wonder they were so hard to corrupt, not that he would ever corrupt a child. “That’s okay, too,” he said, stretching his back and shaking out his fur. The child giggled. “Can you go back to wherever you came from? My mommy will be home soon.” “I can’t, little luv. The circle prevents me from leaving.” “Oh,” she whispered, dejected. “Should I break the circle?” “No!” The girl jumped at his exclamation, and he continued with a gentler tone, “breaking the circle would be bad for you and your sister.” “So, how do you go back home?” He glanced around the room and found no traces of a spell book. He sighed. They would have to do this the old-fashioned way; he was once again glad to be stuck with a child and not with grubby adults who wanted things. “You just have to say, go away, Choron, I don’t want you here, and that you’ll forget this ever happened when you wake up tomorrow.” “Will that be all? You’ll go away if I say that?” There were those curious eyes again. He nodded. She contemplated this with a frown. “Are all demons as friendly as you, Mr. Choron?” “No, luv. Some are just as scary as portrayed in the stories,” he replied with a slight smile. “I’m glad it’s you then. I’m gonna say the words now,” she took a deep breath and continued, “I hope you go home now, Mr. Choron. I don’t want you here. When I wake up, I’ll forget you and that this happened. Bye, Mr. Choron!” The words released his tethers to the mortal world as he knew they would. Choron vanished in a flash of white light, with a beaming smile and a ‘farewell, little one’, and gifting her with a mark of protection. When he opened his eyes, he was in the kitchen in his usual form and saw the oversteeped tea. He sighed as he took out some chamomile leaves and set to boil water again.