#and not even the Devil themself will stop him from taking it

[delta-pavonis]

OKAY. OKAY.

HEAR ME OUT.

Hellknight!Hob wearing this. Chest hair and tiddies out, full happy trail, all of it...

Of course, I think about that, and that inspires a ficlet. And then that ficlet turns dark. So... *shrug* *shoves new baby out in the world*

Rated T

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Hob sees Dream is when the latter has the audacity to enter the Morningstar's realm. He watches as the Dream King intimidates Squatterbloat into bringing him to the Palace. The demon is stupid and gullible, easily swayed, and Hob has a mind to bury his morningstar in the moron's fleshy head, but he would rather observe the visitor and his raven from the shadows.

Hob trails them, the straps of his armor expanding and morphing to cover his body with the mottled charcoals and midnights that are the palette of Hell. Squatterbloat leads the King in a circuitous route to their destination, passing a cell whose occupant not only commands the attention of the sovereign of the Dreaming, but whose pleading pains him. Curious.

He follows the pair of black figures beyond their guided tour, all the way into Lucifer's Hall, sliding unnoticed through the crack in the main doors. Hob is good at his job. He hadn't been successful at being a bandit and cutthroat in life for nothing.

Hob takes a place in the long shadows of one of the pillars and observes.

Apparently the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares is here in Hell to retrieve his helm, one of his important symbols of office. And of course it is some overly ripe idiot like Choronzon who has it. Sometimes Hob just wants to kill them all and promote new individuals to the positions of power, sometimes the house can't be cleaned, it needs to be razed and rebuilt.

But what is truly awe-inspiring is watching the battle between Dream and the Morningstar themself. The Dream King wins, although not handily. It makes the victory even more impressive. Hope. Of fucking course. Hob is quite sure that he has never seen the Lord of Hell so visibly angry in all his 600 plus years in the underworld.

Helm secured and confidence restored, the Lord of the Dreaming is proud and... well, he is incredibly beautiful. He is sharp angles in soft greys and blacks, luminous white skin draped in flowing ink, spikes of hair wafting against gravity.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Hob follows Lord Morpheus and his raven back outside. They walk slowly through the barren, twisted landscape, calculated and careful. Imperious.

Hunger ripples down Hob's spine. He wants.

The Lord stops, body going more still than death. "I am here in my official capacity as King of Dreams and Nightmares. You have followed me for long enough. Show yourself, fiend."

The Dream King's voice is so much deeper and darker than Hob expected and now it is directed at him and it goes directly to his cock. He decides to drop any pretense all at once.

Hob has no shame as he steps out from hiding, the shadow-plates sliding back and leaving him in what really amounts to a series of leather straps and a loincloth, buckled to accentuate the triangle of his torso and the strength in his chest, with sleeves from biceps to palms. The Knights of Hell need no metal protection - they shield themselves in darkness and guile - and so Lucifer Morningstar gives them intangible weapons: the ability to inspire lust and envy as much as wrath. He drops his physical weapon and holds his hands out to his sides.

"Dream King," Hob inclines his head. "I am not here to harm, nor am I here at the behest of my Lord, the Lightbringer." He meets the King's piercing blue eyes and has to grit his teeth to hold in a gasp at how sharply they cut into his breast.

That look trails from Hob's head to his toes slowly, then back up. Judging. Assessing. "So why do you dog my steps, Hellknight?"

He shrugs and takes a step forward. There is no reason for Hob to not be bold. He has long been dead. He has been a resident of Hell and served the Devil themself, has lived that fate worse than death, for almost seven centuries. He has, quite literally, nothing to lose.

So Hob nudges a the magic at his disposal into the cant of his hips, the tilt of his head, the purse of his lips. He lowers his eyelids and takes another step towards the luminous being of black and white before him. "I merely wish to look my fill before I can no longer."

"Bossss..." The raven flies a nervously tight circle above them. He is summarily ignored.

"You wish to more than look, Hellknight, for I can taste your dreams." The Lord of Nightmares snarls as he takes multiple steps to get into Hob's personal space. "You dare-"

Hob laughs loud enough to interrupt him and those ice shards widen in shock. "Oh, yes. I dare." He steps up once more and now their faces are within inches of each other. "How do you think the Morningstar trains their knights? Do you think there is anything you could do to me that would be worse than 700 years of this?"

The resonant chuckle that curls across Hob's skin should probably worry him, but he cannot muster such sense when he is watching the pupils of the Dream King's eyes bleed black outwards, eclipsing his eyes entirely, and wholly captivating Hob. "Lucifer Morningstar's sins often get in the way of their... creativity."

A pale hand shoots towards him and Hob braces for impact, for pain.

He gets nothing of the sort.

Fingers that are the coolness of a lake in summer skate with hedonistic gentleness across Hob's cheek. The palm cups Hob's jaw sweetly. Honeyed breath caresses Hobs lips before they are pressed together. Then he is being kissed with the fondness and warmth of a dear lover.

And that is when Hob realizes that he has vastly miscalculated.

Against his better judgement, Hob is lost to the tide of it. The softest touch of tongues morphs into lazy familiar licks, mapping Hob's mouth as if to memorize, immortalize.

The King of Dreams pulls away and Hob is left panting and hazy.

"I touch you, I kiss you, as I would a lover, as I would my beloved." The King whispers it like a benediction. Hob gasps at the horror that settles into the marrow of his bones. "And never will you feel it again."

And then he is gone.

Hob watches, frozen, as each stride the King takes covers miles. It is only when they have disappeared over the horizon, both Lord and Raven, that Hob realizes tears are streaming down his face.

[mslanna]

Raphael is Tav's warlock patron and he is infatuated with them (though he probably wouldn't/hasn't admit it, not even to himself) and now he sees Tav leading a group of tadpoled misfits who are all fawning over his dear warlock. 👀 What is his reaction?

Well, here goes. Warlock? What warlock? (I am not the writer for warlock stories. Sorry. 😅 Here's hoping you enjoy anyways. It's My Party on AO3

Of course, Tav deserves the celebration. They saved the grove and made a dent in the goblin population. Raphael watched the spectacle with more engagement that behoved a devil of his state. But he can be lenient with himself. After all, Tav will be the means to his rise to archdevil supreme, ruler of all nine hells. A little – investment won't hurt.

As celebrations go, the party in the camp is – rustic to say the last. Food abounds and so does drink, though neither is up to Raphael's refined palate. A pity. But then, nobody expected him to attend, himself least of all.

Korrilla reported as he asked and while her news was heartening – Tav enjoyed themself, no immediate danger threatened the camp, the overall goal is not in jeopardy – some of the news were not to the devil's liking at all. He adjusted the red sash of his outfit once more.

It is just a courtesy visit. An occasion to congratulate Tav on their achievements while needling them about their lack of progress with their tadpole problem. To remind them of their best option, which is him. Naturally.

It has nothing at all to do with the tadpoled fools who Tav amassed falling over themselves to court his little mouse. Nothing whatsoever. Raphael brushes invisible dust from his doublet. It is none of his business who Tav spends their time with. Still, it coan't hurt to keep an eye on their company.

Tav might be influenced by their companions. Not all of them are approving of his offer or even devils in general. Korilla will find out who the worst offenders are for him, but Raphael trusts his own assessment more. Making sure he knows who might work against him – the devil takes a deep breath.

Enough gallivanting. Time to make an entrance.

Raphael appears at the perfect distance to camp for sauntering over. After the first step, he has to realise there is nothing saunter to, though. The party wound down as anticipated but Tav is engaged in a most unhinged dance, limbs flying wild, eyes closed and mouth agape with laughter.

He stops in the shadows and watches. Just to find the perfect moment to make his entrance, of course. Not because there is anything to see worth watching. The small knot that forms in his stomach is purely annoyance at having to rely on such a reckless mortal. And of course it tightens when the burning Tiefling catches Tav. What if she missed? This is dangerous!

Tav doesn't care. They are careless at ever. Maybe a good thing considering what they are up against. The Chosen of the Dead Three. Worry furrows Raphael's brow. Such formidable opponents for one little mouse and their rabble. A pity he cannot yet intervene directly. He has to reel them in slowly.

Still laughing, Tav detaches from the tiefling and makes their unsteady way towards their tent. It is the last chance Raphael will get this evening. Yet he hesitates, acutely aware of his formidable frock and unfortunate position. A painful emotion surges through him.

How dare they make all his preparations vain? Tav turned his gracious visit into a futile fumble without even noticing. Such insolence cannot go unpunished. If this is how Tav wants him to lay hands on them, they can get it. Raphael balls his hand into a fist, strung up and ready to pounce.

Some noise must have startled Tav because their gaze suddenly falls his way. It hitches, moves on and returns. Their eyes go wide for a moment before their face scrunches up in thought.

"Raphael?" The vowels of his name wobble in their mouth. "What are you doing here?"

The answer to that as simple and so very complicated. Raphael sticks to his script. "To congratulate you to your victory, of course. And-"

"That's really nice of you." Tav brightens, cheeks red from alcohol and dancing. "Should've come sooner. Party's over now. Shame. Karlach said I must go to bed. Or else."

Raphael wonders what the 'or else' has been to make Tav leave laughing and still unhappy. A pointed conversation with the tiefling is in order. Later. "I don't think your little – bash had anything to offer I am sad to miss."

Tav's face falls. "Was a good party." Their lip wobbles. "Fun. Should've come sooner."

"Whatever for?" Raphael asks. The sopping wet mortal makes him uneasy which is not acceptable. He is the one unsettling others. Tav may just be too inebriated to remember it. "You have seen the feast in my House of Hope. How does your party compare?"

Tav's shoulder slump and their whole posture goes limp. All joie de vivre drains from them in a quick second.

Triumph doesn't materialise. Raphael feels, quite the opposite as he looks at the dejected mortal. Still he sticks to his script. "At least you have found help with your tadpole problem, yes? The reason you attacked the goblins in first case?"

The contrast to Tav, epitome of joy dancing but a few minutes before, to now, where they are the embodiment of misery cuts deep. For a moment the devil regrets having said anything. But how can he raise Tav from the depths of desperation if they are not suffering down there? A good justification, a truth to cling to.

"Maybe it's better you didn't come sooner," Tav murmurs almost inaudibly as they wrap their arms around themself. "Would've killed the party in a heartbeat. Likes nobody noone who gloats."

"My arrival now means that you can continue to party, should you so desire." Raphael extends a hand with an elegant gesture. "You seemed to want to when you were sent to bed."

Dark eyes settle on his face, they glitter in the moonlight, a mirror of the sad face they are set into. Tav gets the wobble of their lip under control and for a second, their eyes glance down at his hand. "What do you want, Raphael?"

The flat resignation in their tone hurts. Raphael retracts his hand unwilling to answer. He came to gloat, and it didn't make him happy. He missed the party which fills him with vague regret. He offered Tav to show them a better time. That they didn't jump at the opportunity makes him want to lash out in return.

"What I said," he replies. "And make sure you don't get lost on the way to your tent in your intoxicated state. A wonder you walk the way alone. I hear there were more than enough offers of company."

Tav has the pick of their companions for the night. And here they stand on their own. A part of him is elated about this development. Tav is alone! His little mouse. They should be happy to come along. They should-

"Oh." The sound drops from Tav's lips like a pebble into a still pool. They straighten and blink away some of their drunk confusion. "You're jealous."

Before Raphael can reject that idea with the intensity such insolence deserves, Tav takes his hand. They wind their arm trough his and intertwine their fingers before leaning heavily against his side. "Could've just said so. Show me that feast of yours, yes?"

They rub their red face on the fine fabric of his doublet that was not meant to take such abuse. Still, the smile returns to their face somewhat which is a small win. But the mortal is definitely in no shape to celebrate appropriately. If he had known they 'd accept – Raphael bites his lip.

He offered and he cannot take it back now. Not with the after-image of an utterly forlorn Tav imprinted on his mind. But in their state Tav wouldn't last ten minutes. They'd fall asleep with their face in their soup – If he was lucky.

Still, he lifts their clasped hands. There is something here he can work with. Jealousy – laughable. The relief that Tav is not interested in any of their companions stems purely from the worry they'd be distracted from their quest if they were. His little mouse has a long way to go yet.

Raphael smiles. A small pit stop at his House of Hope will only strengthen them, a token of the help they can expect once he offers his deal in earnest. He places his free hand over their intertwined fingers and leads his mortal away.

Once he returns his little mouse to camp, they will not have a thought left for their paltry companions. It is the least he can do.

[fika-drw]

Prompt#35

Severus is Harry’s soulmate.

Severus loves Harry very much.

However it seems that the world will do anything to its power to take advantage of Harry.

Severus is powerless.

He didn’t have any allies.

Everyone hates him and distrust him.

Why would someone believe a black sheep?

How can Severus protect Harry when the world is also against him to protect his soulmate?

So Severus had to resort to do the most despicable things.

Severus will do anything for his Harry.

Even if he had to rip his souls and sell it to the devil, the literal ones and the figurative ones.

Even if he had to disregard his soulbond.

At least Harry will be safe, the punishment will all fall to him as he is the one who does it.

Harry’s soulbond will redirect to someone else, afterward.

Harry will be safe and happy.

That is what all matters to Severus.

What happened to Severus himself is not a matter of concern.

Severus did exactly that.

He made a contract to Dumbledore for Harry’s safety.

Dumbledore asks for the severance of his soulbond with Harry as payment.

Severus did exactly that.

When it seems that Dumbledore is going a bit sideways from what they agreed with, Severus calls the king of hell themself, Lucifer.

Severus once again made a contract to the devil.

However this once is more merciful than the last one.

Lucifer asks that once Severus dies, he will work with Lucifer as his underling for eternity.

When he lived, he only needed to spread a little chaos once a while until he died.

Severus did exactly that.

Afterward, Severus played his part very well.

So well that no one suspects anything, not even himself.

Harry hates Severus so much.

Harry only thought that Severus is just another unrescuable Dumbledore’s puppet.

“Dumbledore’s man through and through aren’t you?” (Harry)

Like Severus suspect, Harry easily wriggles out of Dumbledore’s clutch and gains himself powerful allies left and right. A natural born leader that he is.

The final battle happened and Harry won against all the dark lords.

Harry is the master of death, of course he will.

Severus was the only one left.

Harry made sure of it, afterall, he wanted to have his hand on his soulmate who doesn’t want him at all.

Harry will make sure that Severus gets the most painful death.

Severus knew this day was a long time coming.

At least he can die in peace knowing his soulmate will live in a much better world.

Harry taunts him.

Severus said nothing.

Harry is very angry and about to deliver the last shot but his underling stops him.

It was Lucifer, Harry’s friend and second in command,

Harry commanded for Severus to be put in a cell under the nightmare spell.

“I hope this is worth my time, Lucy.” (Harry)

Lucifer explains everything or at least his part of the agreement with Severus.

“I would love to have him as my underling but I would rather have him live a little longer for my favourite person.” (Lucifer)

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing and called bullshit at this whole thing.

Lucifer just shrugs.

“Well if you don’t believe me, that's alright. At least put that man inside the mind breaker ritual that the goblin had. It will be painful but you will get your answer, no matter how guarded his mind is.” (Lucifer)

Harry is doubtful but he won’t pass a chance to torture his soulmate more.

Imagine to his surprise that it was exactly like Lucifer said.

Harry couldn’t stop crying at Severus' devotion and love, the years of suffering he went through alone.

Harry needs to fix things up.

Severus was sent to a very extensive healing therapy and room of his own.

“How, how did he survive all of this?” (Harry)

“Those little potions of his and the fact that he did it for you. The bond still poisoned him for the betrayal but it won’t kill him.” (Lucifer)

By the time Severus all healed up except for the mark he had that mark him as soulbetrayer, he was less the man he was.

Severus didn’t respond to anything.

Severus was just an empty shell.

Severus looked out the window for hours with no end.

Everyone thinks that Severus is a lost cause.

Harry is not giving up on him no matter what.

One day Severus wandered off and almost accidentally killed himself by falling off the edge of the cliff.

Harry’s reaction sober up everyone and decides to help even only for Harry’s sake.

It turns out that by channelling Harry’s magic to Severus and accepting Severus as his mate for forever in a bonding ceremony will restore Severus.

It wasn’t an instant recovery but Severus is covering.

With that, so does their relationship.

HEA

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

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[calciumsoda]

OK OK OK OK OK I KNOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO WRITE THIS UP DAYS AGO BUT SHUT UP IM DOING IT NOW

So

As is hopefully obvious from my blog and just the way that i am

I am insane and also a massive D&D, Cosmere, and Wheel of Time nerd.

So of COURSE when you put me in a D&D west marches server I'm going to get way way way too into dming massive absurd plotlines that require 10-15 people to sort out.

This one is currently in the works and I'm so so so excited to run it SO you all get to hear about it because splattering my brain patterns on this hellsite is going to help me organize the plotline as it exists thus far.

Anyone from a discord west marches server with a red and black icon and a setting full of oceans and islands, stop reading now. Spoilers below cut. Also, extremely sorry for long post nobody cares about.

IT ALL BEGINS in a port city full of pirates. The world is mainly oceans, with countless small to medium to small continent sized islands in it, largely disconnected from each other. This is only relevant because the main city the game takes place in is a port city whose trade routes are 100% by ocean and nothing else.

In this lawless pirate city, there are a few noble families, one of which is named the Bearingtons. Several of them happen to be Werebears, and there are differing opinions on whether this happened before or after the name came about.

The Bearingtons have always been... power-hungry. Of course, noble families are rarely particularly well-off in pirate cities of all places, but they've managed inexplicably to maintain some sort of hold on their riches and power (mostly because the majority of the family lives in an isolated manor far away from the actual city). This is, aside from Count Bearington, an estranged cousin to the rest of the family who was cast out over some scandal or another years ago and lived alone (with servants, of course) for years in a slowly-deteriorating manor in the city. The Count was bitter about his disownment from the family, and wished to make things "right" by whatever means possible, beginning to research the means to summon and control devils to bring literal hell upon his family.

Elsewhere, a Triton wizard, having by various less-than-ethical means lived far past the 200 year limit on most tritons' lives by now, is busy making horrific amalgamations of elementals and fiends, creating fiends with the powers of lightning and frost out of those which had before been mere imps. They are also, out of desperation to extend their life a little longer to see their work complete, investigating means to become a Lich using elemental souls rather than human ones. However, for the time being, they have made the phylactery... and are unsure how to activate it, as they are too busy trying to stop their monstrosities from killing more travellers on the roads past their tower. Eventually, the city proper catches wind of these murders and foul experiments, and a party is dispatched to kill the wizard and their experiments.

The Wizard is killed, their body rapidly aging upon their death as the magic that had kept body and soul youthful drains... into the phylactery, inescapably dragging their soul into the trap they made themself. After several weeks, they manage to gain some small measure of control over the base elements surrounding their corpse, and successfully create a rudimentary, part-elemental part-undead body to make their way to the city and find a cleric to end their existence. The hells themselves would be better than this...

In the city, they hear tell of another who works to summon devils. The Lich goes to the place rumours speak of, and finds Count Bearington's manor, entering and desperately trying to convince him not to do this. The Lich does not realize that, by now, the Count has already met with several fiends and promised them his family's estate, hells, even the whole *city* if they will help him to get his revenge on his kin.

The Count convinces the Lich that, should they help with a ritual to summon a stronger devil, and bind it to his bidding, then he will aid the Lich in finding some way to destroy the phylactery. The Lich agrees, desperate to be free of this prison before their mind rots entirely, and pours immense magic into a circle in the basement of the Count's manor, succeeding in summoning stronger fiends than before. The Lich, however, does not realize just how much they've put into it, nor the effects that will have... and, shortly after the Lich is given directions to a cleric who owes the Count a favour and leaves, the circle begins to expand, transforming from a mere summoning circle to a planar gateway to the Hells, beginning to corrupt the earth around it and blur the line between the Material and the Hells...

Days later, the Count is found dead, disemboweled and impaled on the steel gates bordering his manor. Investigation inside the manor finds powerful fiends within, tearing the place apart and eating his few remaining servants, but does not locate the hidden trapdoor that hides the true measure of the disaster about to unfold. Devils are not mindless brutes, however... they have waited millenia for the opportunity to wage war through such a portal, but one small entryway in the middle of a city would be impossible to maintain a full scale assault through.

The devils, however, have other tricks in mind. The seas all around the city are home to thousands - tens, hundreds of thousands - of evil sea-dwelling lifeforms, largely Sahuagin and Merrow, who are eager for a chance to slaugher the pirates of the city who so often deny them the treasures carried on their ships. The devils approach these sahuagin, making deals with them - promising great power, the power to wipe this city from the surface and drag its treasures and residents below the waves for themselves. The sahuagin are more than happy to oblige to the devils' demands, and begin amassing an army...

The devils do not rely on sea creatures alone, of course. Others are sent to meet with humanoids both within the city and without; deals are struck between powerful fiends and the leaders of several of the most powerful bandit groups in the city and its surrounding isles, promising each that they would be granted their wildest desires, if they only carried out a few important missions... destroy a temple here, burn a small sacred clearing there, weaken the influence of the gods such that the fiends might meet no resistance when they arrive in force to raze the island in flames and turn it into a tenth Hell, as they were promised by the Count.

Other fiends - a shape-shifting Succubus, mainly - return to terrorize the Bearington estate, attempting to kill the Emperor of the nearby sea elves to weaken any support that might come from other ocean races against the Sahuagin. Word slips out that the other Bearingtons may be in trouble, however, and a group of adventurers manages to save the Emperor, if not the Lady Bearington who was killed and replaced by the succubus to get close enough to him.

Another party is summoned by the frantic messages of a minor deity of nature, pleading for their aid in preventing the destruction of her ancient, forgotten temple, and they find an "archaeological" group (read: bandits in disguise) preparing to destroy the religious symbols within and claim the building as their own, an operation which only their leaders know is ordered by a devil in exchange for magical weapons and control over any who come too close to this temple. The first group of bandits is cleared out by these adventurers, but more are quite possibly on the way, as the deity of the temple personally thanks them for their aid and asks that they call on her whenever they require hers in return. One party member begins worshipping this deity, becoming her one and only priest (in a setting where having temples + priests dedicated to you is how you become and remain a god, this is wildly important to the deity, who would have outright died if the temple were destroyed).

Elsewhere, dragons are stirred from the homes they have held for centuries, and begin claiming new territory, forcing younger, weaker dragons to migrate towards this island due to its lack of major draconic presence. A pair of injured Sapphire dragons are driven from home after home, eventually finding refuge with the deity in the woods, but they are nearly overrun by further bandits, not even able to spare the energy to send a message to those who had helped previously with clearing them out...

And this is where the quest begins. Sahuagin and worse are assaulting the ports and any ships that try to enter or leave the city; multiple instances of intelligent and dangerous fiends have been spotted in various parts of the city, and a portal to the hells themselves discovered in the manor's lower floors; and bandits swarm the roads and holy places outside of the city, defacing and destroying important locations, all while a lone, desperate Lich-thing tries to right the wrongs they caused by recruiting any aid they can, disguising however they can to avoid this body being killed and their soul abandoned to the Phylactery once more.

There will be 1 party of adventurers sent to handle each of these major issues, the final total of players being between 10 and 15, with all 3 storylines converging into one at the end, as the players must either convince each side being manipulated by the devils to turn against them, or face an army of unimaginable proportions with the aid of whatever pirates the city can provide.

Anyway im fucking vibrating in excitement for when i get to run this quest i wanna run it so so so so so bad but i have more encounters to do before it starts. And i need to nail down more details. But. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[ejunkiet]

the devil is in the details

the idea of david being assigned as the royal security detail in the imperium verse, leading to him meeting angel, would not leave me alone. short and sweet (?)

thank you @taelonsamada and @glassbearclock for enabling this. >:3 <33

redacted asmr: imperium!david/angel, mature themes, 18+ mdni.

READ ON AO3

The consort of the King Imperial was once assigned a security detail, a shifter from a prominent wolf pack.

Alpha David Shaw.

–

the devil is in the details

This will all end in flames, but right now, in this moment, David couldn’t give a damn.

They’re soft and warm, so fucking warm beneath him, their hands on him, their mouth on him, tasting him, taking all of him, and he’ll give them as much as they want, as much as they need.

And they do need him, just as much as he needs them. He’s seen their life, the illusion of their freedom, hidden beneath the opulence of the pretty bars of their cage. Their relationship with the man that would call himself king may have started out as love, but it’s long gone now, a shallower attachment - possession - all that’s left in its place.

Now it’s his hands on them, his mouth tasting them, swallowing their moans, leaving his marks on their skin in private places, gentle enough that they can be eased away with a little healing magic when it’s time for him to leave.

The headache would be worth it, to have his mouth on them now.

“Davey,” Their voice is little more than a gasp, clinging to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop.”

That name on anyone else’s lips would have been an insult, but not from them. From them, it fits into the little space inside his chest that they’ve carved out for themselves and called home, alongside the name he’s gifted them in return, angel, for all that they’ve saved him.

“I’ve got you. Hold on to me.”

He was drowning before he met them. With the responsibilities of the pack, with his loss - smothered by the weight of all the lives under his care. He still feels the weight of it now, as he figures out what it means to be alpha, to care for his people, even when it seems the very world is fighting against him. To keep them safe.

(He still has people missing - hunted by a massmaker, if the rumours were to be believed.)

He’d almost forgotten what it meant to be David before he’d been hired for the royal detail. They’d entered his life with all the force of a hurricane, breaking down his walls, reminding him of who he was, before all this. The man beneath the armour.

And they’d rediscovered themself, too.

They’ve talked about how much the life they’ve been living has chafed them - the isolation, the boredom, the frustration. They’re smart, and bright, and so  fucking kind, and worth so much more than the ornamental side piece the little prince had made of them.

And he loves them. He’s been in love with them for months, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying, and all he can think about when they’re like this, moving together, their bodies and hearts in sync.

He wants them, all of them – and it’s that thought that pushes him over the edge as they clench around him, reaching their own peak, gasping his name, their fingers tangled in the strands of his hair as he holds them close.

He wants them to be his. And he thinks they want that too.

It’s in the quiet after, tangled up on the simple futon in the private room that had been assigned to the royal security detail, that he finds the courage to put it into words.

“Angel.” He waits until they’re looking at him, seafoam green eyes glimmering in the golden light that filters through the curtains, draping their body in gold. “Run away with me. Please.”

He’s already drawn up the plans, and discussed it with his pack. Asher had been hesitant, worried - but he’d seen the changes in David though, and knew how much they meant to him. He’d come around, in the end.

His angel makes a soft sound in the back of their throat, almost wounded. Their voice is soft when they finally speak. “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do. We’ll protect you from him.” He needs them to hear it, to believe it. “I’m the alpha of my pack, the biggest in Dahlia. We’re strong. We’ll be enough.”

“Even against the King Imperium himself?”

“He’s not king yet. Besides, we have our alliances. He wouldn’t want a war.” They look at him, bright eyes wide and unsure, and he holds their stare. He’s serious - has never been more serious about anything in his life. “He’ll let you go.”

Their expression wavers, and there are tears in their eyes, even if they don’t let them fall. “Don’t give me false hope, Davey.”

Their breath catches as he reaches out to cup their cheek. Their skin is soft and warm as they lean into the touch, their eyes flickering shut, and they fit just right, as if they were made for him. “I love you. Please. Come with me.”

The tears break, slipping down their cheeks before he presses them away with his thumb. “Okay.”

He takes them in his arms as they release a shuddering breath, and he holds them as they shake, the tension in them breaking, and it’s too much, he knows, but it’ll be okay, in the end. They’ll be together, and that’s all that matters. “I love you, angel.”

As their grip tightens around him, they press their words into his chest. “I love you too.”

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Oh my.

* the community label is incorrect, there are no dirty themes in this *

Happy belated Hallowtide, y’all.  Here’s another chapter, slowpokes :)

When - right after A cause for concern. You’re still at the table with Hershel and your glass of activated charcoal. S02 episodes Cherokee Rose + setup for Chupacabra.

What - Hershel just asked you if your brother Shane “is a cause for concern.” Turns out, Daryl walked in and heard. You also keep meaning to talk to Lori but there have been a lot of interruptions...

Relationships - slow cooker Daryl x You is in the works, of course. Right now y’all are at the cooking stage where Daryl just wants to hang out with his only friend :( but you keep being otherwise occupied. You even defend him to Hershel tonight. As for you and the gang, we got casual brotherly/sisterly affection between yourself, Shane, Rick, and Lori.

Perspective - still stuck in 2nd person You + 3rd person “one who often carries the crossbow”

TWs - some language and some alcohol use (Dary-bear)

Pronouns - they/them, feminine implied at times

Word count - it won’t irk you this time

Masterlist - capital idea considering all the references! Checking out the four chapters chronologically before this one (What were your nightmares about?, Better with a friend, Picking a flower = saving the day, and A cause for concern) as well as Too much thinking before bed, Part 2 is recommended.

Him

That old man is sharp. At least somebody else is seeing it.

Really, it’s as if Daryl could literally smell the bullshit during Shane’s little speech at the funeral.

Though, the other old man might see it, too. Dale. It was about a month ago he’d noticed that Dale stopped being chummy with Shane the way he was with everyone else, even to Daryl himself.

And Lori has seemed real uncomfortable around Shane, too, come to think of it.

Maybe he’s not as alone in seeing that guy’s hiding something as he first figured.

It just sucks that Y/N is having to admit that about their own family, if just to themself. And Daryl knows all about what it’s like to admit that shit about a brother, if just to himself.

Speak of the devil, Lori is now walking by him, quietly whispering, “How are you, Daryl?” as she scoots out the front door.

Dr. Farmer (his bad, he doesn’t remember Dr. Farmer’s actual name) tells his friend something about a ‘solution’ (?) and Y/N picks up the glass with black stuff in it and—ew, start to sip it through a straw. The hell is in there?

But before he can get a word out and ask, a high, small voice from behind him scares the shit out of him as it squeaks, “Why are you in here?”

He jumps, turns—and holding a choose-your-own-adventure book is the teenage girl, frowning at him and probably freaked out as fuck. Just look at her eyes, all wide and scared like a bush baby’s.

In a way that sounds kinda like she’s accusing him of something, she next questions, “Do you, um, n-need help findin’ Carl’s room?”

“Nah.”

...

...fuck, this is awkward.

Eyes still so wide they’ll probably fall out, her high little voice again squeaks, “What do you want, then?”

Lucky for him, saving his ass is Y/N’s voice. “Daryl? Hey.”

He takes a few steps toward the table, thinking to himself that it sounded like Y/N’s throat was tight but feeling relieved that he isn’t gonna have to talk to Baby Spice anymore/ever again.

“You here to tell Carl about the Cherokee roses, too?” they ask him with a teensy little smile.

No, I don’t know why I came in here but you’re my only goddamn friend and I knew you were in here. “Yeah.”

“Do you remember which room he’s in?”

I actually have to walk in there and talk to the kid now. “Yeah, s’the one with the little boy in it, right?”

Instead of finding that funny, they make a face that reads as annoyed and tired.

Psht. Getting annoyed himself, he marches down the hallway to the room where the kid is recovering while Y/N, dunno, probably keeps drinking that black sludge and gets interrogated by the old man more.

You

All Mr. Greene asked was if Shane would be ‘a cause for concern.’ That’s it. All you had to say that is that he’s going through a rough time, what is wrong with you?

You need to say something to explain why you couldn’t answer and you gotta figure out where the doctor was coming from in the first place.

“I ain’t cer — I am uncertain as to what your question meant, sir,” you say by way of asking for clarification.

“Simply if you feel that there is a cause for concern regarding him.”

“In what way?” croaks from your throat not much more substantially than a whisper.

But now Beth is joining you and her father at the table so nothing more is said.

She thanks you for the flour and tries to make polite conversation, you try to stay upbeat and friendly.

You’re grateful that her voice is soft, because the ringing in your ears is making sounds louder. Plus, her and Maggie’s accents are twangier like yours, so it makes you feel less self-conscious around her father.

You gulp the drink as fast as you can through the straw. That Mr. Greene mixed the charcoal with Tang and gave you a straw is helping to make it less gross.

And when you notice Beth’s holding a choose-your-own-adventure book, you and she start to have a normal, easy moment—until you feel Mr. Greene’s eyes on you and figure he wants you o-u-t.

So, you excuse yourself, thank him again, and stand up to go wash your glass and straw while hoping your dizziness isn’t too obvious in the way you walk as to upset Beth.

But the doctor stops you. (?)

“I was hopin’ to ask you a favor. Or enlist you, rather.”

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of your cup, you can sit back down,” Beth murmurs to you, and takes it from your hands.

You swallow and find your seat again. “What d’you need help with, Mr. Greene?”

He clasps his hands together on the table. “I gather you’re likely planning on searching for the missing child first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.”

“Is it your intention to remain out for the entirety of the day?”

“No.” Oh my God, why did you just—“I meant, I don’t think it’ll, the, um—” please formulate a coherent sentence. “W-we’ll have re-combed the whole grid and further by the afternoon,” you stammer. “And with seven or, um, however many of us will be out again, I can come back. I ain’t writing Sophia off, doctor, I just know that my duties also lie elsewhere. We all have jobs to do.” Good enough. “Do you need me to stay with Carl?”

You thought you felt his stare burning holes in your face, but when you actually look at him, he’s got his eyes on the table, lost in thought.

“That your group has searched so thoroughly and for successive days, it likely means one thing — and you understand that, I can see it. But it doesn’t discredit the other entirely; perhaps that tomorrow the whole area will have been re-swept means you’ll finally recover her. Sophia.”

You have to cover your face with a hand and turn away. How many times are you gonna get close to tears, this is getting old.

Swallowing the latest lump in your throat, you dab your eye with the corner of your sleeve and nod. “We were going to,” sniff, “check the road off the trail tomorrow, then he — that’s Daryl — he mentioned going to the top of a ridge someplace near to get a high view.”

Mr. Greene looks so much less impatient and unwelcoming than he did before but you aren’t certain the reason. Even his body language has changed.

“There are no infected individuals in any of the houses on that road, I can tell you that,” he informs you. “Otis went by that way more than a few times. There’s one home, however — it’s the one closest to the connecting road, northside. The family boarded it up because of that proximity, I would imagine.” He sighs. “No one answered Otis when he called from outside. It may be because they were newer to the area or perhaps there was somewhat of a language barrier, but the house is boarded securely and Otis never received any responses.” Scratching his eyelid, he finishes, “We decided to assume the Bardales left for a safe zone or perhaps a relative’s.”

“But the family might could still be inside,” you state more than ask. In what manner the family could be in, you neither state nor ask.

“There’s the potential,” he confirms. It seems as if he’s intending to say more but is having trouble doing so.

You wait.

He finishes slowly, “We aren’t certain if they caught the illness.”

Beth is coming back to the table with a snack-sized bag of barbecue chips. She offers to share, so you take one despite your newly discovered taste aversion. Chew. Swallow. Think of Amy and Jim and the Morales family.

“What I wanted to ask you was to help me give Carl a transfusion tomorrow. Now, I don’t know…” He stops talking entirely. “I don’t know if it’s an advisable thing. As we are aware, I am not a medical doctor—”

“—For humans,” you interrupt. He is a medical doctor and he saved your Carl’s life.

He unclasps his hands and holds his palms up. “I am a veterinarian and walking a fine line. Now: I know in some circumstances, anticoagulants are prescribed to postoperative patients who are at an increased risk of clotting. Carl, with his injury in that spot,” he shakes his head, “I cannot get it out of my head that he is at risk.”

His daughter loops her arm through his and rests her head on his shoulder as he takes a deep breathe. “And after the miracle we had in saving him, and the sacrifice it cost,” his tone sharpens when he says that part. You bow your head.

Then he exhales heavily and controlled. “My blood type matches his. Before his surgery, while he was still bleeding out, a transfusion from me would have killed him because I still take a daily anticoagulant. It’s a very low dose, but even that would have been too much for him. Now, however…”

“What risks would there be?” That Carl is alive is what’s keeping you sane and grounded.

“I do not believe he would be at risk of bleeding out with just one pint from me. We know that the stitch has held, and I have been restricting him from moving his core in order to maintain that, and I will insist upon it for a few more days.”

“What did Lori and Rick say?”

“I haven’t spoken to them yet. I suppose one could argue I was practicing the proposal with you.” Mr. Greene rubs the spot on his forehead in between his eyebrows. “If his parents agree, I would like both Patricia’s and your hands on deck. You take direction well, and have much more experience with human medical cases than Margaret.”

You must look as overwhelmed and unconvinced as you feel, because he shakes his head at you and goes on to say, “I’m telling you this in earnest. You did an extraordinary job getting that child’s vein on the first try, at a time when he was profoundly hypovolemic, not considering the emotional trial you were undergoing during the event and the two injuries you sustained in its onset that could have interfered.”

“There’s no need to butter me up, I’ll be there for him,” you mumble. Why is he suddenly being so generous with the compliments?

He appears to sigh again, and next turns to his daughter. “Beth, sweetheart, would you mind putting the tea kettle on for me? I want to ensure privacy while Y/N and I discuss some matters a bit further.”

That tiny seed of dread is still firmly rooted in your gut.

When you see in your side-vision that Beth is off in the kitchen, you state the prepared phrase quickly and quietly. “About your question earlier: Shane is a good and decent man, he simply hasn’t been himself.” There.

Mr. Greene gets that serious, discerning look on his face again. “Has he spoken to you about what happened that night? It must be weighing on him heavily.”

Your posture slumps and you can’t meet his gaze. “He ain’t even talked to Rick about it.”

The front door opens again.

Lori’s back from wherever she had gone. She looks like she’s close to passing out. You even begin to stand because she really doesn’t look well. “Lore, are you feelin’ alright?”

“Just feeling extra tired, honey,” is what she tells you as she walks blindly to the hallway, then stops and heads toward the kitchen. You sit down when you hear the faucet turn on.

“One last question for now, and I thank you for allowing me to do so. The man who walked into my house before, the one who often carries the crossbow?”

“Daryl,” you confirm, somewhat cautious.

“Will he be a problem?”

Your head is shaking ‘no’ before he’s finished asking. “He can come across as…” You shrug, unable to think of a word. “But he’s proven himself to be remarkably…good. My mama would call him a work-in-progress.”

But Mr. Greene’s response is completely justified. “I cannot help but somewhat wonder against your statement when I and my family all noticed the schutstaffel symbol on his motorcycle.”

Holding up your hands as if trying to prove your innocence, you explain, “It was his brother’s, he’s no longer with us. And we all hate it, too.” You grimace in disgust and mutter, “I don’t think Daryl even knows what it means.” With a peek at the doctor’s unreadable expression, you unhelpfully mention, “Glenn and I are keepin’ an eye out for black spray paint to fix it.”

Lori’s footsteps sound back down the hallway. The door to Carl’s room opens and closes.

“Do you feel safe around the man, Y/N?”

“Yes, oddly enough.”

“Why ‘oddly enough?’” he counters.

Is there a bright interrogation lamp over your head? “He comes across as otherwise, and he can be a hot-head,” you concede, shrugging one shoulder. “But he never leered at the women, and the kids didn’t feel uncomfortable or unsafe around him. He hunts for us, is teaching me how,” you go on, then feel testy enough to meet his gaze head-on. “And he’s spent more time out there searchin’ for Sophia than any of us.”

“He never made, um, I’ll call them ‘advances,’ toward you? I don’t know his inclinations, but Margaret is about your age, my Beth is even younger, and I likewise worry about Jimmy’s safety in that way. Their—” he cuts off as the front door opens yet again.

It’s Rick this time. He greets the two of you, pecks a kiss on your head, and goes down the hall.

Mr. Greene takes a moment as if he’s collecting his patience. “Their safety is paramount. And as you can imagine, having strange, angry, armed men tramping around my house and property feels like a very risky game.”

“He’s made none at all to me, and I-I don’t think to others, neither.” No way, y’all would have discussed that. Andrea would’ve been very outspoken about it if he’d ever stared at her chest, for one. “We would have discussed that.”

But whatever the thoughts in his head are, you can’t quite to read them in his expression. And he changes the subject.

“Thank you for your honesty,” he repeats, sighing. “Now, with your permission, I would like to reexamine your shoulder before sending you on your way.”

Him

He told the boy about the flower, all about the search, and even about having been lost for nine days when he was a kid. He sanitized it for Carl’s sake, obviously, made it seem like an adventure.

Sophia is his friend, he’d needed to hear it. At this point, everyone should know so they won’t write that little girl off as a goner.

Weird thing was, the teenage girl—sorry, ‘Beth’— had walked in there partway through and sat herself down as if she didn’t trust him to be alone with the boy.

He ignored her and kept telling Carl stories.

Now the kid’s asleep, still with his dad’s giant deputy hat on.

At one point, Carl fake-complained that “After this, it’ll be forever until they let me go hunting with you guys.”

So, he reminded him, “I told ya: be this tall or when your voice changes, then you can come with.”

Beth is reading her book, still sitting kinda stiff as if she’s nervous.

As for he himself, he’s just listening to a clock ticking and thinking that he wants a smoke and another beer and to not be around someone who doesn’t like him, even if it was just Baby Spice.

When Lori came back into the room with a glass of water, she looked paler than her kid, and that’s saying something. Carl’s about as tan as a sheep.

He didn’t think he should leave, to be honest, she looked so drained. So, he sat there.

Waited.

Wondered what the hell to do and felt awkward as fuck.

It can’t have been more than three minutes when Rick quietly steps into the room.

Relieved, Daryl stands up, grunts “Night,” before zooming out.

Trying not to stomp too loud, he walks out of the hall to find Dr. Farmer doing stuff with Y/N’s arm.

The old man straightens it. Positions it forward. Up. To the side. Up. Asks them to apply pressure from different angles. Has them twist their neck side to side, up and down.

Daryl leans against the wall and crosses his arms.

Sometimes it looks like it hurts them, sometimes not. They make eye contact with each other for a second. Y/N gives him a resigned look, he blankly offers a thumbs up in response.

Then he wonders what the hell he’s waiting for and to stop being creepy, and so stands back up and figures he’ll leave.

“It was mentioned before that your shoulder was previously injured?” the old man questions Y/N.

The door to Carl’s room clicks open again, Lori and Beth exit. Beth scurries away, Lori starts to make for the door.

“About a month-ish back,” Y/N replies.

“What was the mechanism of injury?”

“Um, we was tryin’—we were trying,” they rephrase it, less twangy than usual, “to escape from someplace with a…very shut door. We, um, the pain started after I rammed against it too hard.”

Lori stops where Y/N is sitting and lightly smooths some flyaways in their hair.

The old man makes a hm. “That was the original injury?”

And Lori cuts in, weirdly enough. “It was a slight twisting injury.” Softly, he can hear her murmur, “Honey, remember what happened a couple days before that?”

Y/N looks confused, then remember whatever it was. Their mouth opens, closes.

As he finally walks by and out the door, he ears them whisper all shy, “Th-that only bothered me for a few hours after.”

You

“A twisting injury makes much more sense for the other affected areas to which the pain is radiating, especially the neck and chest,” Mr. Greene affirms.

You didn’t even remember that your shoulder technically got hurt when you attacked Ed. After all, your jaw had been what was bothering you the most.

It’s still so wild to you that you’d gone so…wild.

“Lori, don’t let Carol know—oh, and Daryl, you neither,” you call in case he’s still in earshot. That woman can’t find out, she’ll blame herself.

“If you didn’t recall the initial injury as having been serious, consider it having been akin to small ding in a windshield. Minor impact or driving into a pothole in the road can lead to a bigger crack, and from there, much more serious damage at a moment’s notice. Likewise, having a small injury, even a barely noticeable tear, made the force against the, uh, door injure you more than it may have,” he explains, “which eventually, if the injury did not fully heal or heal properly, worsened still when you carried young Carl here.”

Lori kisses you on the head and places her hands on your shoulders, rubbing them gently.

“Now, I have just about zero knowledge of physical therapy, but Pat will remember the exercises Jimmy needed after a baseball injury last year to his shoulder. In fact, he went back outside to your group’s fire, you can ask him there. They may be helpful.” He stands. “Now, Lori, I’d please like to speak to you and Rick about something important.”

Him

When Y/N came out of the farmhouse, their brother sped over to them and helped them walk back. They ain’t even talking or nothing now, they’re just sitting quietly listening to the conversation and staring into the fire. By the looks of it, they’re dozing off a little against their brother’s shoulder.

Y/N had a silent, tiny cry soon after they first got back, too. Shane simply put his arm around them.

The basic way he’s noticed everybody handle that stuff was to just allow the person get the tears out in peace and not make a big deal about it. Maybe pat the person on the back or whatever but nothing dramatic. There are more reasons to cry these days, you know?

Anyway, Carol is warming up Y/N’s oatmeal.

As for himself, he’s just about to—wait a sec, only a few gulps left—ah, okay, yep, he’s done with his third beer of the night.

Except he doesn’t even have the spins yet, what bullshit. Why doesn’t he just go to bed?

It can’t be because he’s clinging, no way.

Aw, lil Darylina wants to feel like he belongs by clutching to his only friend like a little blankie.

Ugh, you know what? He could just have a fourth beer and shut up. Still got two left back at his tent, and he could crash after. He’ll need the full night’s rest if he’s gonna find Sophia tomorrow. Check out the road, check out the ridge, get that little girl back safe.

You

You must’ve fallen asleep because all you remember after you stopped sniffling was that suddenly Shane was tapping you so you’d sit up. He stood and quietly set off somewhere, passing Lori on his way.

Huh. Lori. You’d been dreaming that she was crying around the campfire. That must be because you had a cry and knew Lori wanted to talk—oh poop, you haven’t talked to her yet, have you?

As you blink a few times to clear the brain fog, Carol hands you a bowl of oatmeal. Smells yummy.

Lori sits by you. Carol hands her a bowl, too. She lifts her spoon but does nothing else. It’s as if she’s miles away as she stares at her boots.

“It’s true, my dad wore his Bulldogs jersey every Saturday,” you overhear Jimmy say. “I wish he could’ve, um…” He pauses when his voice cracks.

If this is where the conversation had been heading, it makes sense to you why your brother hurried off. The guilt from what happened with Otis. You brush away those horrible, heartless, stupid doubts in your head about what happened that night and pass Lori the unused glass by you that she’s gesturing to.

Lori holds out the glass and Carol pours him some of the Tang that Jimmy brought for you all in the pitcher. The kid takes a big gulp, and T-Dog  delicately taps Jimmy’s glass with his beer bottle in ‘cheers.’

“He would’ve been so excited to meet you, Mr. Douglas.”

“Nah, I ain’t nobody impressive, Jimmy. But your dad?” T-Dog’s serious expression warms into a grin. “The dude who volunteered on the regular to save lives? I woulda been honored to have met that man.”

Sniffing, Jimmy clears his throat and takes another few sips of his drink. Lori rubs his back a few times from where she’s kneeling, then gets up and sits back by you.

“His favorite game was the day after Thanksgiving, 1994. I was a baby so I can’t remember, but the way he retells the story every Thanksgiving makes me feel like I do.”

“That was a damn satisfying game, let me tell ya. Perfect way to finish the season.”

Cue Jimmy’s eyes to expand two times their normal size as T-Dog begins to chuckle.

“Were you…y-you were playing during that game? The Dawgs obliterated Georgia Tech, it was 48 to 10!”

“Hell yeah we did, kid.”

Him

The discussion morphed to video games and how the teenager’s never fired a gun “Other than in video games at my friend’s house.”

Proper farm boy, minus the part where he’d need to know his way around a rifle to deter hogs and all that. He had a BB gun, and “did skeet shooting with Dad’s shotgun a couple times? We used birdshot, so it was easy enough.”

That’s when Glenn and he hopped into a happy little discussion about…eh, Daryl isn’t sure. He needs to sleep.

Y/N is dosing again, otherwise they’d probably be just as excited to talk about whatever Glenn and farm boy are into. He’s still weirdly disappointed he didn’t get to talk with Y/N. Find out their big secret…or just hang and feel wanted.

Sweet baby Darylina, you getting all mopey? Are you PMSing, sugar?

Dale already excused himself to hit the sack, Lori looked like she was about to. That woman’s looked tired as fuck even before all that went down at the highway.

However, Y/N is accidentally using them as a pillow, and Lori has her head resting against Y/N’s with this look across her face like she’s having war flashbacks.

He closes his eyes for a moment as he stretches before standing up to just get back to his tent already.

…

…

…zzz...zzz…

You

“Honey,” softly whispered in your ear pulls you out of a similar dream to the one you woke from earlier, but this time, Lori was crying in the house and her older sister was with her. Mr. Greene was sitting at the table and frowning. Shane was trying to get inside. Mama was outside with him but had her hands covering her face.

Rick and you were by the door, but it was almost as if you were guarding it.

Dreams can be so creepy. And stupid, like, as soon as you saw Evie, you should’ve realized it wasn’t real life.

Back to the here and now, Glenn and Jimmy are really into whatever they’re talking about. Videogames? You’d probably be into it if you weren’t half-asleep.

Lori stands up. Hold up, are her eyes wet?

“You should head to bed, too, come on.” She holds her hand out to help you up. Taking it with your good arm, you hold on when you stand, and the two of you bid your goodnights to the group.

Aw, Daryl is asleep where he’s sitting, can you believe it?

Him

It’s when his head flops forward that he finds himself jolting awake.

Turns out, like his friend, he also fell asleep right there in front of the campfire.

Except now Y/N and Lori are gone.

…This night has been really annoying, just saying.

Actually standing up this time, he grunts what probably passes as a ‘goodnight’ and shuffles drowsily storms off to his tent, set apart from the others.

You

Ears still ringing, you walk slowly to your tent and wonder where Sophia’s sleeping. “I just had the funkiest dream, Lore. Evie was in it.”

The muscles in her arm tighten. “Evie?”

“She looked good. Had on civvies instead of a uniform.” You chuckle to keep it light. “She was hugging you.”

Lori runs her hand over her face. Once at your tent, she and wishes you a “Goodnight, Y/N,” and wraps her arms around you in an unusually tight embrace that she maintains.

“Did you wanna talk now?” you check. “We kept gettin’ interrupted.”

She avoids eye contact as she pulls back and assures you, “It-it’s okay, honey, it’s nothing.”

Memories of that strange night and morning at the CDC start replaying in the back of your mind. There’s a red flag waving with it, but maybe that’s due to your weird nap dream a few minutes ago.

Still, you offer, “I can talk about nothing, easy.”

She hesitates. Inhales.

But all she finally says, with a smile that doesn’t convince you, is, “I just need some sleep.”

White lie. You almost tell her she owes a quarter.

Her lip wobbles and she hugs you again, and you squeeze back as much as your shoulder will allow.

“I’ll see you at breakfast, honey, okay?”

“Make sure you sleep in, Miss Patricia mentioned that. G’night, Lori, love you.”

And as she pulls her button-down off her hips to put it back on, whatever was in her back pocket falls out.

Ha, why does she have a digital thermomet…oh.

Oh my.

Ohh my, okay. Okay.

That wasn’t a digital thermometer, a fact made clear by the way she scrambled to grab it when she realized it had fallen.

“Lori?”

You end up on the floor of your tent, sitting there dazed with your mouth open while the ringing in your ears seems to grow louder. She quickly crouches and pulls the door flap down.

She stops hiding the test and rests her hand in her lap as she sits beside you, her fingers gripping it tightly.

You stare at it.

Yep, it’s a pregnancy test.

It’s got the little plus sign, too.

Taglist (inbox if you are interested, friends)

@spenciepoo338 @its-freaking-bats​ @whistlesalot​

[creekschaoscorner]

Saw we were talking about romance and I had to join (This is my first time not being ridiculously late to one of these lol)

Francis forms fleeting attachments often, but has a hard time with genuine connection. He enjoys the fun of flirtation and the honeymoon phase, but balks the second things get serious. He thought at one point he was poly (although I don’t think the victorians had a word for it), but multiple paramours didn’t stop him from getting cold feet when actual emotional vulnerability was required from him. It’s not a new development, he’s been running away from serious relationships ever since he was a teenager. Nowadays though he has a convenient justification- he believes himself to be in love with someone (The Unlucky Devil) who is very much not present. It’s very easy to pine for someone who you know will never actually return your feelings. There’s a security in the chase, in unrequited devotion. It doesn’t ask from him anything he’s afraid to give, because despite being an incredibly cowardly and selfish person, Francis places incredibly little value in his own life. Not that he’s not still heartbroken- he is. The week the Unlucky Devil spent living in his house was the best of his life. He left when Francis was no longer useful, but Francis would’ve done anything he asked to make him stay. It doesn’t matter anyways. The Unlucky Devil is gone, and Francis is alone, and even though he craves emotional intimacy he’ll never get it because he isn’t willing to put in the work

Josie doesn’t really do attachments. There’s never been a good time in her life for romance, and she hates most people anyways. The ones she can stand she can usually only stand for short periods of time, and her life has always been survival of the fittest- attachments give you something to lose. If she had the labels she might identify as ace, but when it comes to romance it’s hard to tell what’s a genuine lack of desire or just her distaste for most people

Ollie is aromantic! I don’t know if l they’d call themself that but they’re aromantic. They have no interest in settling down, but they enjoy the occasional fling and are a fiercely loyal friend. They’re very upfront about their lack of interest in romance and if the other person is alright with that, Ollie is fine to fool around. They find companionship in a vast network of friends, and while Ollie may flit in and out of their lives, they’ll always be there if they’re needed. A traditional relationship would tie them down in a way that would make them miserable, but Ollie doesn’t believe in using people. They give just as much as they take, and they’re perfectly happy with their life the way that it is, and the people closest to them understand that

(Including Vivian too bc I love him) Vivian to me is one of those people who likes the idea of romance more than he likes the actual process. He wants to be wanted, but putting in the work for someone else kind of scares him. He also has problems being emotionally vulnerable. I’m kind of starting to notice a pattern in my ocs oops. He would’ve done it, for Griz, he did really like her. But then Pages was there, and while being with Griz meant that Vivian would’ve had to do the hard work of becoming a better person, being with Pages meant Vivian could stay exactly the same and still get what he wanted. (Also, space bat fluffy). And it works out great for them- Pages wants the experience of wanting, Vivian wants to be wanted. They’re both perfectly happy with this arrangement, so while it’s definitely not an ideal relationship, it works great for them

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: He’s Been in Solitary for Way Too Long

            “Detective, this is a mistake!” hissed Lucifer. “I need to get to (Y/N)!” He dropped his hands back down. “They’re what matters here.”

            “We’ll find them,” promised Chloe. “But you need to surrender yourself. We’ll go the station, you can explain what happened, and we can find (Y/N).”

            “If the kid’s not dead, too,” muttered an officer, glancing between Lucifer and the dead preacher.

            Lucifer’s eyes flashed, and he turned on the officer. “What did you say?” He was dangerously calm.

            “Lucifer,” warned Chloe. “Don’t make things worse. Just calm down.”

            “He accused me of killing (Y/N),” seethed Lucifer. He spread out his arms and faced down the officer. “Come on, then. If you really think I’m a cold-hearted murderer who hurts children, go ahead and shoot. Riddle me with bullets.” He laughed. “While you’re at it, blame me for all your sins. Because that’s what I do as the Devil, right? I make you kill and cheat and lie and steal. I’m the reason that preacher is dead, right?!” Lucifer glared at the officer. “Come on, shoot and feel better about yourself!”

            “Don’t shoot him! He’s unarmed,” said Chloe.

            “Oh, you don’t know that!” Lucifer slid a hand into his (empty) coat pocket. “Maybe I have a gun!”

            “Hands in the air,” shouted Chloe, trying to keep Lucifer was getting shot.

            “Do it!”

            “Don’t!”

            Bang!

            Chloe’s eyes widened, expecting to see Lucifer bleeding out on the floor, but there was nothing. He was gone.

l

            On the rainy pier of Los Angeles, Lucifer stood across from Amenadiel, who had swooped in and saved him.

            “While I thank you for interrupting my death, I have more important things to think about then your need to get me back to Hell,” said Lucifer.

            “Lucy, that’s not why I’m here,” said Amenadiel.

            “What?” frowned Lucifer.

            “My eyes are wide open now. I, we, used Maze. And I used Malcolm. People have died now, and I…I must fix things.” Amenadiel looked at his brother. “I must take Malcolm back to Hell.”

            Lucifer blinked before smirking. “Well, we have a similar goal. But my first priority is finding (Y/N).”

            “The child?” Amenadiel frowned. “What happened?”

            “They disappeared,” said Lucifer. “I think they ran away when we were fighting. I…” Lucifer looked down. “I scared them. And I don’t know where they are, and Malcolm left after…he might have done something.”

            Amenadiel’s eyes softened. “I’ll help you find them. Then we can clear your name and send Malcolm back to Hell. We’ll fix this, together.”

l

            (Y/N) pulled themself farther into the shadow of the tree as they sat up in it, teeth chattering slightly from being chilled by the rain. It had finally let up, but they still didn’t move. (Y/N) knew they shouldn’t have left, and they really weren’t sure how they did. They were just…out of there. Either way, here they were.

            (Y/N) groaned. I should head back to the Lux…Lucifer and Amenadiel have probably stopped fighting. They looked down. And I…I shouldn’t have run off. It was stupid. They winced. And Dr. Wilson probably wouldn’t be proud…She would have thought removing myself from the situation was good, but going this far away…

            (Y/N) climbed down from the tree, stepping out of the protective shadows and into the light. They walked quietly through the city, taking deep breaths to stave off any anxiety stemming from people soaked to the bone in front of people, from Lucifer being upset at their disappearance, and from still being on edge from earlier.

            Finally, they were back at Lux. All they found, however, no one. True, it wasn’t open for parties yet, but not even Maze was there, and it was dark.

            “Lucifer?” called (Y/N). They rode the elevator to the penthouse. Still nothing. Beginning to grow worried, they picked up their phone.

l

            As Lucifer showed Mazikeen where to press on Amenadiel’s which he had acquired from fighting the criminals Malcolm was getting money from, his phone began to ring. At first cursing it for interrupting his chase after Malcolm, Lucifer’s heart dropped into his stomach when he saw it was (Y/N).

            “(Y/N)! Are you alright?! Where are you?! I’ve been trying to find Malcolm, I thought he might have done something to you!” rambled Lucifer in relief.

            “I’m fine, I just…” (Y/N) swallowed, still scared of how they blacked out and ended up in that park. After all, how else could they get there? “I didn’t like the fighting. I’m back in the penthouse.”

            “Stay at home. I promise…” Lucifer took a deep breath. “I’ll be home soon.”

            “Are you okay?” (Y/N) frowned.

            “Just stay home,” said Lucifer, hanging up as he glared at Malcolm before smirking. “I have no reason to hold back. I don’t need to question you.”

            Malcolm bolted, and Lucifer grinned, eyes flashing red. He ran after him until shots rang out. Detective Decker stood in front, holding her gun up at Lucifer.

            “Detective! Malcolm is getting away,” hissed Lucifer. “You don’t know what he’s done!” He sighed. “You’d never believe me anyway. But all you need to know is that he’s here to get money, and then he’s going to disappear. For good.”

            “I thought you were worried about (Y/N),” said Chloe sharply.

            “They’re back at the penthouse,” said Lucifer.

            Chloe smiled. “That’s what I thought.” She pointed at a duffel bag at her feet. “So I thought I’d keep the money from him.” She lowered her gun. “I’m not here to arrest you. I know you’re innocent. I always have. So let’s catch the bastard together and put an end to all this.”

            Lucifer smirked. Everything was falling perfectly into place.

            Around the corner, Malcolm gritted his teeth before slipping out of the factory. It was time play his trump card. He picked up his phone.

            “You still laying low? Good. I have the money to leave. Or, we will if you do something for me.”

l

            (Y/N) finished pulling on their red sweatshirt, soft and dry and warm, before heading over the kitchen. They were ravenous, so they grabbed some food and went to the microwave.

            Crash

            The plate shattered on the floor as (Y/N) saw the reflection of a man. They whirled, eyes wide, and stared at their uncle. Their insane, stuck-in-an-asylum, killed-his-wife uncle.

            “Hello, you little shit,” sneered (Uncle’s/Name). “Siding with the Devil now, aren’t you?”

            “H-How…?” (Y/N) was on full alert, unable to stop themself from trembling. They swallowed. It didn’t matter how he escaped; it mattered that he was standing there in the kitchen.

            “I’m gonna make sure that Devil never bothers anyone again.” (Uncle’s/Name) began laughing hysterically. “I’m gonna save the world from evil!”

            He’s been in solitary for way too long.

            His manic eyes landed on (Y/N). “But I need bait.”

             (Y/N) vaulted over the kitchen counter. Their uncle followed them as they raced towards where their phone rested. (Uncle’s/Name) grabbed them and pulled out a cloth from his pocket. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as they smelled something chemical, and they held their breath as it was pressed to their face. Annoyed at their resistance, (Uncle’s/Name) drove an elbow into their side. They were forced to gasp and inhale the chloroform-soaked rag. Their consciousness slipped from them, even as they tried to fight back.

            Not…good…Lucifer…help…

l

            Lucifer and Chloe stood in the LAPD offices as Dan confessed to everything and was taken away. Now Lucifer’s name was cleared, and the only thing left to do was send Malcolm back to Hell. His phone rang, and he brightened when (Y/N)’s called id showed up. He could tell her that he’d be home soon.

            “Good news, (Y/N)—”

            “(Y/N) can’t come to the phone right now,” said Malcolm’s voice.

            “Lucifer!” Chloe turned to him after getting a report. “(Uncle’s/Name) (L/N) has disappeared from his solitary confinement.” She saw his frozen face. “Lucifer?”

            Lucifer put his phone on speaker. “I can guess how he escaped.”

            “Hello, Detective Decker!” said Malcolm cheerfully. “You took something of mine today! I want it back.”

            “Not a chance, Malcolm,” said Decker.

            “Are you sure? I’m sure Lucifer wouldn’t want anything to happen to his little friend.” Malcolm held the phone up to (Y/N).

            “Lucifer,” they cried. “Don’t come! It’s a trap—Mph!”

            (Uncle’s/Name)’s sneer was evident through the phone. “Shut up.”

            “Don’t touch them.” Lucifer was seething.

            “Then send Detective Decker with my money. No one else, no cops, just you and the money for me and my friends.” Malcolm chuckled. “Or else…Well, their hoodie might be red with blood.” He hung up.

            “Detective, you have to let me use the money,” said Lucifer.

            Chloe smiled. “Of course, Lucifer. I’m not risking anything while he has (Y/N).

            “Good, then let’s go.” Lucifer started towards the door, but Chloe stuck out a hand.

            “No.”

            “No?!”

            “You heard Malcolm. We can’t risk bringing you,” said Chloe.

            “But it will be two versus one!” said Lucifer.

            “I know, but you know that we need to keep (Y/N) safe. They’re a kid; they won’t be able to take on two adults at the same time.”

            Lucifer clenched his fists. “Fine.” I’ll let you start, but I must protect (Y/N).

l

            “Lucifer is going to come,” said (Uncle’s/Name), narrowing his eyes.

            “Of course,” said Malcolm. “That’s how you get your revenge.” He nodded to (Y/N). “You keep ahold of them, and I’ll get the money.”

            “You’re not going to win,” spat (Y/N).

            “Oh, and why is that?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

            (Y/N) elbowed their uncle and stomped on his foot like Maze had taught them. They ducked away from him just as another car pulled into the airport. As Malcolm shouted at (Uncle’s/Name) to follow while he pulled out his gun to face Chloe (and, (Y/N) hoped, Lucifer).

            “Is this really what you did with your second chance?” drawled a dangerously calm voice.

            Lucifer! (Y/N) grinned from where they were hiding among shelves.

            “Dammit!” Malcolm fired several shots at Lucifer as the Devil advanced on him. He turned his gun on Chloe and forced her and Lucifer to dodge behind her car.

            “Put down the gun!” commanded Chloe, pulling her own gun out.

            “I need that money, Decker!”

            “Nobody has to die,” said Chloe, peering carefully over her car hood.

            “I beg to differ,” sneered Malcolm. “I’m going to get rid of both of you, then (Uncle’s/Name) and I are going to hunt down that damn kid.” He grinned. “He’s going to have a lot of fun getting back at them.”

            Lucifer jumped to his feet and shoved the car at Malcolm, who rolled to the side. Shaking off the shock and chalking it up to adrenaline, Chloe stood up and held her gun up to Malcolm.

            “Put your hands up!” she demanded. Malcolm narrowed his eyes and raised his gun.

            Bang! Bang!

            Both fired. Malcolm’s shot rocketed past Chloe’s shoulder, but hers aimed true. Malcolm fell to the ground. Lucifer wanted to gloat over Malcolm’s fate returning a second time, but he needed to find (Y/N).

            “I’ll call in backup,” said Chloe.

            “I’m finding (Y/N).” Lucifer ran into the maze of shelves.

            “Lucifer!” called Chloe, but he was to focused to pay any attention.

            (Y/N) curled up in a shelf, holding their breath as footsteps echoed. They had heard shots and shouts, but they dared not leave.

            “Where are you, ya little shit?!” growled (Uncle’s/Name).

            “I’m sure you don’t mean me,” said Lucifer’s devilish voice.

            (Y/N)’s heart leapt to life. Lucifer was there! He had come! All they wanted to do was run out and hug him and be safe, but with (Uncle’s/Name) there…well, their chest constricted at the idea of facing him again. So (Y/N) pulled themself farther into the shadows to avoid detection.

            “Y-You! The Devil!” cried (Uncle’s/Name).

            Lucifer smirked. “That’s me. Have you learned a lesson since last time?”

            “I have.”

            “Really? Because again trying to hurt your nibling doesn’t strike me a ‘lesson well-learned.’ ”

            “Oh, no, I fully intend to get rid of that brat. They allied themselves with the Devil.” (Uncle’s/Name) raised a gun. “I learn to be prepared to fight evil. To fight you.”

            (Y/N) froze. Lucifer is mortal right now…Decker is here…

            The safety clicked off. “I’m going to kill the Devil!” (Uncle’s/Name) laughed hysterically.

            Lucifer smirked. “You can try.”

            Decker is here! No, no! (Y/N)’s eyes widened. I need to help…I need to help!

The shadows loomed over Lucifer and (Uncle’s/Name), obscuring their sight and (Uncle’s/Name)’s ability to shoot. Still, the insane man gripped the gun tightly as the darkness closed in.

            Bang!

            (Y/N) gasped as the bullet pierced them and the darkness receded. With no thought, they had jumped in between Lucifer and the shot aimed to kill him.

            “No!” shouted Lucifer, catching (Y/N) and holding them close.

            (Y/N) blearily heard another pair of shots and blurrily saw (Uncle’s/Name) fall. Haha…Decker got here…

            “I need an ambulance at my location,” said Chloe on her phone as she ran to the entrance to flag them in.

            (Y/N) could barely hear her. Everything felt fuzzy as their vision swam. Something felt warm…their stomach. The rest of their body felt cold. Stupid…that’s where you got shot…

            “Stay awake, (Y/N). An ambulance is coming,” assured Lucifer, holding (Y/N) to him.

            “’M tired…” groaned (Y/N).

            “I know, but now is no time to sleep.” When he got no answer, Lucifer shook them. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?!” They were growing colder. He glared upwards. “Why are you taking them away?! They’re a child! A child! They have done no wrong!” His voice broke as he sobbed. “Don’t take them away…Please, I’ll do anything, Father. Just let them live…Please…”

l

            (Y/N)’s eyes couldn’t seem to focus. Shadows crawled over the dark stone around them, and cold snow fell. They shuddered and held them arms close to their body. In front of them were hundreds of stone doors, all tightly closed. Except for one. A foreboding sensation prickled their skin, and a part of their heart knew that it should be closed. That it should keep something inside. (Y/N) stepped forward to look in, but before they could do anything, their vision blurred severely again, and heat spread over their body as they were wrenched from whatever world they were in. As they tried to reach out for the knowledge their heart knew they needed, they heard something…

            What are you saying?

l

            (Y/N)’s eyes snapped open. “Lucifer…?” they croaked, feeling sick to their stomach, exhausted beyond belief. But not dying. They were in a white hospital room with bright lights glaring down on them. The light irked them, and they squinted against it.

            “(Y/N)!” The relief was evident in his voice.

            “Are you surprise to see me?” They grinned.

Lucifer looked at them in concern. “We…I almost lost you. You…You had no pulse.” He wanted to reach out but didn’t risk disturbing them. “I thought I lost you.”

            “I do feel dead,” they groaned. They frowned and looked at Lucifer. “Hey, what is Hell like?”

            Alarmed, Lucifer looked at them. “What?”

            “Hell. What is it like?” (Y/N) looked down. “I think…I think I went there.”

            Lucifer shook his head and gripped their shoulders. “No, no. I would never let you go to Hell.”

            “There were cells. I was standing outside. It’s like I was visiting,” explained (Y/N).

            Lucifer breathed a sigh of half-relief. He was glad to know they didn’t end up in Hell, but now he needed to know why they appeared there at all. And if he wasn’t mistaken, it likely had something to do with his promise to his Father to do something for Him. “What happened there?”

            (Y/N) shrugged but winced as their wound pulled painfully. “Nothing. There was one open door, and I tried to go towards it, but I woke up before I could go in.”

            “An open cell in Hell?” Lucifer frowned. Not another person gone…who is it my Father needs me to return to Hell?

(Y/N) wracked their brain. There was something they had heard…It was deep in the shadows off their mind. “I heard something…Gah, Goh…”

            Goddess.

            “Goddess.”

l

            In a dark alleyway in Los Angeles, a young kid stepped out of the shadows, rolling her shoulders and groaning as they felt sore and stiff.

            Bloody hell, I would not have followed that soul up here if I knew it would be that unpleasant, they thought, brushing dust off herself. After half a second, she reconsidered. Nope, I would have come even if it was a thousand times more painful…After all, she got out on my watch. They looked around as cars sped around them. Well, Emeranne, welcome to Los Angeles. Your boss and the Goddess are both here. She winced. I am so fired.

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Fifteen: Love Like You Pt. 2

“I don’t think we would even need to kill anyone, it sounds like there’s a collapse going on if they’re being this silent. Hell, our Fuhrer is on the loose with his murder spree at the moment, so Dante is likely going to be preoccupied with that. We could team up and take on Dante ourselves if needed, strike while the iron is hot so to speak.” Edward got up from his seat, took the glass of milk and went to dump it into the planter, a plan having been formed properly in his head.

 “Once we overthrow Dante, we could have her be placed in prison.” Alphonse added, happy that this won’t involve them having to commit the act of execution on another human being.

“I like the sounds of this plan already, about time that hag got a taste of prison life like we had before the big break out happened. I’m on board with this plan, guys, up for raiding an old lady’s cottage villa?” Greed glanced over to his crew of chimeras who were more than happy to wreak a wretched lady’s life.

 “Then we got our plan of action, plus we’ll show Ernest we don’t need to kill anyone to make things better.” Edward had a big grin on his young face as he made his way out of the tavern, Alphonse following behind.

 “If you both weren’t underage, I would’ve offered whiskey shots.”  Greed laughed after seeing how well this arrangement went.

 “I’ll drink Orange juice instead, come on Al, we have some preparations to do.”  Edward held the door open for Alphonse to exit the tavern, eager to get to work.

 Greed watched the Elric brothers exit his tavern, eager to put a stop to the terror of Dante and her homunculus henchmen. It was just as the door closed when the phone started to ring, catching the chimeras and Greed as they were closed for business on Sunday. Silently, Greed motioned for Dolcetto to answer the phone, hoping it was just someone stupid to try and order stuff during off hours. Dolcetto gave a bit of a grunt before he lifted the phone off of its base and brought it up to his ears as he began the procedural message of being closed. The sentence was cut short as the dog man chimera gave a look of surprise before looking over to Greed, motioning for the homunculus to take up the phone. There was a bit of a head shake from Greed as he went over to take up the phone, figuring it was the dread Karen on the phone to handle. It had happened before, it was part of the workforce and expected to deal with rather unsavory customers from time to time. The phone was warm from Dolcetto’s hand as it passed from him to Greed who brought the phone up to answer.

 “This is the tavern Owner, Greed, on the line. As I do believe, my employee already stated, we’re closed on Sundays..” Greed’s voice kept to the appropriate tone of customer service as he awaited for the dread screeching.

“Funny Greed, look this is Lust. We need to have a talk and we’re ready to mend some bridges for this to happen.” Lust gave a bit of a sigh on the line as she was starting to lose a bit of patience.

“You’re fucking joking, I thought you and the little monster were on Dante’s side and how the hell did you guys find us this time!?” Greed dropped the customer service voice as he perked up a bit more at the sudden change.

“It isn’t exactly complex alchemy to figure you like using ‘devil’ in a lot of names of your establishments. Look Greed, Envy is refusing to speak to you themself, but we are considering assassinating Dante as things have gotten out of hand with her. Will you be willing to join up with us?” Lust waited on the phone as a pause overtook Greed as he carefully considered the bargain.

“How exactly do you expect me to trust that this isn’t a trap? I’ve been twice bitten and twice shy with my previous encounter.” Greed broke the silent pause as he awaited for an answer.

 “Since Envy isn’t going to do the negotiation like they normally would, what proof or gesture do you want from us to prove that we’re not trying to trick you?” Lust made a shushing sound in the background as the faint background of Envy getting into a hissing fit could be heard.

 “First, I want an up to date rabies vaccination record for Envy and second, I want Envy to pay up for this fancy Xingese Restaurant for my Chimeras and I. Then we’ll talk civilly about teaming up with the Dante Coup de Grace.”  Greed had to hold himself back from laughing maniacally when he heard Envy explode in profanity in the background.

 “You have a deal, though Envy would like to ‘kindly’ remind you that they have been rabies free for the past hundred years. We will meet you and your group at the restaurant to coordinate a plan of attack properly.” Lust’s annoyance with Envy’s behavior could be heard in her tone as laughter from Greed had broken loose. 

 “I’ll have to bring the Elrics if this is the case, they’re wanting to overthrow Dante as well. I don’t know why she’s so hellbent on tormenting minors now, but it's clear she’s made plenty of enemies.” Greed casually informed Lust as he relaxed fully with how the conversation was going.

 “Thank you for the healthy warning there, I’ll be sure to have Envy stay with Dolly then during the meeting.” Lust could be heard scolding Envy over the fact the Elrics would be there.

 “Seriously? What did two wet behind the ears teenagers do to get Envy into a hostile state towards them?” Greed raised an eyebrow as he shifted the phone a little bit, becoming curious when the topic was brought up.

 “You know, I’ve often wondered about that myself. Hey Envy, care to explain why you hate the two goobers so much?” Lust was quiet for a moment as the sounds of feet stomping could be heard before a sharp shutting of the door could be heard shortly after.

“They locked themself in the bathroom, didn’t they?” Greed let out a heavy sigh upon hearing the exchange over on the phone.

“Pretty much, that place has become their tantrum room. Look, we’ll have the dinner meeting in a fortnight to get our ducks in order. This will have to be an olive branch towards the Elrics, so please get them prepared for this conversation.” Lust prepared to conclude the conversation having had enough of Envy and their petty attitude towards the situation.

 “Right then, I’ll meet you and your hideous brood at that fancy Xingese Restaurant sans Envy.” With that, Greed hung up the phone as he grinned at the bettering odds of overthrowing Dante once and for all. 

 “So Boss, how are you going to approach the Elric brats?” Roa asked, having a feeling this will end relatively poorly.

“You know how we roll all too well by now, Roa. Bido, make that milk stew for tonight, we’re having dinner with the Elric’s tonight.” Greed gave a proud little smirk that would put Pride’s to shame.

 “But Mr. Greed, it’s still the morning hour and I need the stew beef for it.” Bido gave a look of not wanting the milk stew’s vegetables to dissolve with an insane cooking period.

 “Fair enough, I’ll get that stew beef you need, I’m just needing comfort food for tonight since we’re going to have the misfortune of being around that horrible red monster they’re rooming with.” Greed’s smirk faltered at the horrifying thought of having to be around the nightmare beast known as Ernest.

 The collective group gave a shudder at the horrible plasma beam of death the tiny clay asshole unleashed the last time they met. With the cardinal desire to bury the gruesome memory away, both Greed and his Chimeras went about getting some errands done before the impromptu meeting at the Rockbell Household. It was in all honesty the only way to run away from having to immediately confront the imminent encounter with Ernest the Dreadful. As the crew of the fair shady tavern, ‘The Devil’s Herd’, scrambled about, the Elrics unwittingly blissfully were on their way back to the Rockbell home. The Brothers got some answers and a hopeful plan to finally put an end to the vicious cycle Amestris had been through for the last couple of hundreds of years. Things had finally started to look hopeful for the pair of brothers as they reached the household when they saw a most curious sight they hadn’t quite expected. There at the front was Winry working with Ernest who had made a thin plasma stream that Winry had been using to carefully cut some metal pieces with. Edward looked annoyed at the fact the horrible little leonid bastard was more cooperative with Winry rather than himself. Alphonse, on the other hand, was rather pleased that Ernest found a less homicidal use for the plasma beam. It was taken as a sign of good things to come, hopeful things would pan out well for all involved…

=======================================================================

 Envy was pissed, beyond pissed if that was even possible. It was their first day back at the apartment complex after the ‘renovations’ had concluded, getting buried in more gifts from the residences after basically being given a paid vacation for a week, and all they got from Lust was the sheer disrespect all because they refuse to deal with Greed. The bathroom had seen better days after Envy had concluded their tantrum fit, tiles smashed and the mirror sporting a fine spider web crack line. It wasn’t Envy’s problem as it belongs to Lust now, Envy did have a room with the horrid Face Fur, Dorian, and Dolly to only worry over. The thought of being around Dolly and Dorian made things a little calmer for Envy as they exited the restroom, only to be greeted to the annoyed scowl of Lust waiting for them to have a chat. Gluttony kept quiet as he kept to the feeding corner, waiting for the verbal storm to pass. Envy attempted to walk past Lust, but their path was blocked by the gloved hand resting against the plastered wall. A growl escaped from Envy’s throat, not thrilled that they were going to be dragged into a conversation the human shaped reptile didn’t want to deal with. Lust took in a deep breath as she prepared to talk to Envy about what’s going to happen and hope they don’t wreck the bathroom even further. 

 “Envy, the Elrics will be coming to this meet up. Because of your past behavior involving them, you are to stay with Dolly during the whole exchange so this will go smoothly.” Lust hissed, not thrilled with the situation either. “Like hell I am! Lust I can handle this! This is my plan and my Coup de Grace plot!” Envy protested immediately, it was their Coup de Grace plot and damn it, they were going to see it through. “It might be your Coup de Grace plan, but, if this fails because of you, I’m going to Coup de Grace your little ass in retaliation.” Lust narrowed her eyes at Envy since she was throwing away her chance of being human once again.

 “It won’t fail! I’ll just keep my focus on Dolly, so long as I have her sitting next to me, I’ll be alright with having to deal with the Elric Brats.” Envy threw their arms up in frustration as they attempted to do this magical thing called reasoning.

 “I don’t have time for this, but fine Envy, have it your way. Just know I’ll be inspecting you for any poisons or viruses before the meeting happens.” Lust warned under her breath as she let Envy pass now that there was an agreement.

 “Whatever, just know that once we go through this, you won’t be able to become a human as you wanted.” “I know and I’ve come to terms with that. As much as I wanted to become a human, maybe there’s something more than just being part of the species. The only thing I do regret is not being able to do alchemy as I wanted to do.” Lust looked away for a bit as she finally came to admit it.

 “Good, we’re going to be just fine as we are then with the nice add in of never aging or dying.” Envy started to make their way back to the apartment.

[tsaritza-mika]

Unpopular Opinion #2

Honestly, I’m not gonna make too many of these. I love the Arcana and the majority of it’s fan base, and the miscellaneous art of all kinds that have come from it, but there’s just been a few things I need to get out of my head and out into the internet. As always, if you don’t agree, that’s fine and you’re free to go your own way. I am trying to apply some critical thinking here, so if that ain’t your thing, just keep on scrolling and godspeed my good dude.

Now that that’s done, more on some of the criticisms regarding Lucio...

Ok, this one gets me because it feels like some people were just so laser focused on certain things, that they ended up overlooking some very big hints about Lucio and his route. Lucio is basically almost NEVER in any sort of actual control of anything in any route, including his own. The only reason why Lucio had the ‘choice’ to start working on being better, was because in his route, MC seeks him out before doing anything else. Seems like an obvious thing to say, I know, but hear me out. In all other routes, MC goes everywhere else except Lucio’s rooms first thing. MC is the first one that we know of to try making direct contact with Lucio in at least 3 years, and thus, is given the opportunity to start influencing him and his thought process. Now, in the other 5 routes, you have to take a moment to think: if MC didn’t make contact, then maybe someone else did. It doesn’t really matter if it was the Devil themself, or any one of the Courtiers, because it all ended the same: Lucio was influenced to stay a piece of shit, and it was fine to stay that way and even encouraged. 

A part of what Lucio’s upright route was about, was him finally taking responsibility for being a selfish asshole, and still following everyone else who could possibly benefit or enrich him in some way. Thinking constructively about it, when we first really meet Lucio in his route, one of the first things he does is try making a deal with MC. That’s because MC, and essentially almost everyone else around him, has something he lacks, and in MCs case, it’s another magician who seems like they could help him if he offered the right reward. It’s another deal that he could essentially back out on if he either finds someone else who’s better, or MC doesn’t deliver in a way he wants. In his route, Morga said it best: Lucio was always best at shirking his responsibilities, and running from his problems.

Also, to that last point, Lucio is NOT some kind of cunning mastermind, and honestly, I’m so confused how people can think he is in any of the routes. At every turn, he’s only succeeding when he’s following what others say to do. When he’s guarding the entrance to the Devil’s realm in Julian’s route, he was either told to do that by the Devil themself, or he found out from any of the Courtiers that his biggest meal ticket was on the line. In Asra’s route, he stupidly followed Asra and MC over the ice in an attempt to stop them, rather than thinking more strategically. In Nadia’s route, he literally has the grandeur ripped from him to the point of groveling to MC for help, and even admitted he had been getting screwed over because he wanted to be THE G.O.A.T., not a literal goat.

In Muriel’s Upright route, there’s always a Courtier nearby to collect when he’s gathering up the hearts he promised, and there’s only two times he truly acted on his own: first was when he agreed to the games, and the other when he was facing off against Morga. With the games, was overconfident about his abilities, and thus, underestimated the determination and talent of his opponents. Even as a ghostly figure, Morga could tell when he agreed that he was making yet another mistake that was going to cost him. And when facing off with Morga, he used the only thing that even had a slight chance of working on her: the grudging love of a mother for her child. Morga relates very openly during Lucio’s route that she very much regrets the times she stepped in to help him in some way, and says how much she wishes she had just had it in her to kill him rather than giving him ‘a head start’ when he ran from the South.

Yes, we know he was a mercenary and lead his company, but it’s never said he was a ‘good’ leader, and it’s more than a little foolish to assume when we have no idea of the details of the time when he went from merc to heir apparent to Vesuvia after ‘saving’ his predecessor, Count Spada. For all we know, he could have pulled a fast one and took credit for someone else doing all the work, especially since we know him to be very opportunistic and has done similar things in the past. Lucio is knowledgeable on wilderness survival, navigation and terrain, and he’s at the very least a competent fighter. But his Intelligence and Wisdom stats leave a lot to be desired.

All of this aside, I will also say that despite everything I’ve said about him, I actually love Lucio. I love his character, and he’s one of my top favs out of the Main 6. I’m just also passionate about accurate depictions of characters I love, as well as character analysis in general.

[sayuricorner]

Lil’ Lucifer/Forsaken fanfiction: Amnesiac Michael(journey to the west crossover): What if sequel AU: Lego Monkie Kid crossover

Part 3

Warning : English is not my first language so sorry if it's confusing ! 😅

A "What if sequel" of my Lil' Lucifer/Forsaken AU X JJTW crossover: Amnesiac Michael AU!

This "what if sequel" is based on this question:

"What if the Amnesiac Michael AU took place in the Lego Monkie Kid version of JTTW?"

This AU take place centuries after the "Amnesiac Michael AU" and during the season 3 of LMK.

If you want to use this AU go ahead! ^^

Lil’ Lucifer/casino cups AU belong to @brightgoat  and @camodielsart

Forsaken AU belong to @camodielsart

Journey to the West belong to Wu Chen En

Cuphead belong to Studio MDHR

Monkie Kid belong to Lego

Angel Castiel belong to me

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

So, this "what if" take place at the season three of Monkie Kid.

With the big threat of Lady Bone Demon on the world, Wukong decided to contact a "old friend of him" to ask for help to had more allies on their side against Lady Bone Demon and to help with MK's training.

To the group's confusion, the "friend" they are looking for is in another universe, to which they get thank to an old scroll in Wukong's possession.

They arrived in a place called "Inkwell Isles", a bunch of islands populated by all kind of people/creatures all living in a "vintage styled society".

Once the group found Wukong's friend, they were shocked, even amazed in MK's and Tang's case, to find out that the friend in question is none other than Michael, known back in their world as "Háo the winged disciple".

Althought he was happy to see Wukong again, Michael was also upset against Wukong 'cause he didn't had news from him for a good time which result in a comic scene during which an angry Michael run after a smugging Wukong.

After that and the situation was explained to him, Michael accepted to help Wukong to train MK and to help the group to defeat Lady Bone Demon.

So for some times the group stayed on Inkwell Isles while Wukong and Michael trained MK before going back to their world once the training was done.

Michael go with the group along with his daughter Chao-Xing, who followed the group and her father without them knowing, and this mark the start of their journey against Lady Bone Demon in the Monkie Kid world.

AU details:

->Lil's Lucifer/Forsaken au world in the AU:

-After years of staying at the casino, or in one of the isles for Gabriel's group, the remaining angels worked hard to get back on their feets.

-Over the years, the survivors archangels searched for other survivors who would be in hidding and worked together to build a place to call home.

-They etablished themself on an inhabitated island of Inkwell Isles and give to their city the name "New Eden".

-Michael is the leader of the angels and rule the community along with the other archangels.

-Unlike from back when God was around, the community's rules are way less strict and give to the angels more liberty.

-Ex: Angels can now fall in love and be in a relationship.

-Castiel is Michael's direct disciple and is one of New Eden's protectors

-Angels are now encouraged to explore and develop their abilities.

-Souls of good people are now send to New Eden after their death and became angels.

-New young angels are created by the archangels who had worked on their creation abilities over the centuries and a "mentor system" was created: when young angels are created, they are giving under the care of an archangel who named them and became their mentor.

-Regarding the conflict with Hell: Because God forsaken this world and Heaven was destroyed, the remaining angels and the demons agreed that the big war had no meaning anymore and decided to etablish a somewhat peace treaty, it's not a TOTAL peace as there's still some bad blood and tensions but both side agreed in the treaty to stop trying to massacre each other.

-The Angels and demons "conflicts" happen now in a more "shoulder angel/shoulder devil" way, each side only go mess with the other when they try to advise/tempt mortals.

-Since the AU take place centuries after the "forsaken AU", many characters from the "casino cups AU" had passed away long time ago which include Cuphead and Mugman, however, the irony of fate seem to always make the cup brothers's descendants to take a job at the casino.

-King Dice is still around 'causethe Devil didn't want to lose his right hand man, not that he will admit it, he made King Dice sign a special contract which turned him into a demon, making him immortal, the latter don't mind it at all he is pleased by the situation infact.

-Michael's daughter, Chao-Xing, developping her potential as a lightbringer angel.

-ex: Chao-Xing can use light as a weapon and can make magic with it.

-Chao-Xing's angel name: Heylel (name meaning: "shining one" or "light bringer" or "morning star")

-Michael in this AU: Through the years Michael worked very hard to become a better brother, a good leader/protector for the angels and a good father to Chao-Xing, he still had little fears and regrets about his past self but is more at peace than years ago.

->Story details:

-MK being trained by Michael and other angels in New Eden.

-An extasic Tang asking hundred of questions to Michael about his adventures with Wukong during the JTTW events.

-Michael being shocked when seeing Sandy, Pigsy, Tang and Mei 'cause he saw they were reincarnations(descendants in Mei's case) of the rest of the JTTW group.

-Wukong still calling Michael "Hào" as an affectionate nickname.

-MK getting involved into Michael's world(which included demons's shenaningans) shenaningans during his stay.

-Chao-Xing, Mei and MK becoming very good friends.

-Michael throwing the "don't you fucking dare" stare at Wukong when the latter was about to tell MK and the rest of the LMK team about the "Hào disguising himself as a woman to seduce a demon to save San-Zang" adventure.

-Michael and Chao-Xing coming with the LMK group to help them to defeat Lady Bone Demon.

-Red Boy seeing his bridesnatching aptempt of Michael in the JTTW events as an embarassing childhood crush.

-Mei teasing Red Boy about his "childhood crush" on Michael.

-When the group meet Jin & Yin during the season 3 events, one of the two demon brothers get flirty with Michael, much to the latter's dismay, 'cause back in the JTTW events one of the two brothers tried to bridesnatch Michael.(who between Jin & Yin tried to bridesnatch Michael and then get flirty with him is up to whoever who use this idea).

-Michael having often arguments with Sun Wukong 'cause the later hide important informations from the group.

-Macaque's opinion about Michael: Macaque doesn't like Michael, he think Michael took his place as Wukong's best friend/brother.

-Michael and Ne Zha having a deep respect for each other as warriors.

-Michael finding hundred excuses to not be on stage and to stay backstage in the episode "benched".

-Michael and Chao-Xing fighting against Jin & Yin backtage while Tang face Macaque in the episode "Benched".

-Michael having a heart to heart with Macaque in "Time to Be Warriors".

-Michael and Chao-Xing facing Lady Bone Demon with the LMK group in the final battle.

-The LMK group(Michael and Chao-Xing included) all celebrating together after the defeat of Lady Bone Demon.

———————————————————————————

Tag list:

@torichochet , @lolo-zweitbeste , @sophie14 , @my-chichi8888-universe , @hylespy , @xmenlov , @ducissa-animi , @apricotin , @isabelcipher , @candyclaws33 ,

[mslanna]

Raphael dealing with another fiend that is offering something to the cambion in exchange for an entire night with Tav. Not Haarlep in Tav's form, but Tav. Now, two things about this fiend: 1. They want to know what's so special about Raphael's little mouse and experience it for themself. 2. This fiend is extremely sadistic and refuses to any deal that would stipulate Tav ends up unharmed or even alive by the time the mortal is returned because, "I think we both know I can't promise that."

tw torture

More Than Skin Deep

"Tedious." Raphael pries another bit of viscera from under his fingernails. The screams echoing through the House of Hope are slowly abating. Something to amend. Soon. He spares a glance for the red figure hanging spread-eagled in the middle of the room.

Admittedly, it has always been red, but with the skin peeled off the body the demon is still read. Boring. Predictable.

"Tedious," he repeats and gets up.

The other demon winces, but there is nowhere he can go. Still he tries which earns him a few prods into nerve clusters. When his screams abate, Raphael cuts a little into the muscles holding the devil in place. "Squirm and they may just rip," he says conversationally.

"But that isn't where we stopped, is it?" He regards the dipping mess before him. "Wings, that is is. Still skin on those I see. As I was saying, you could easily have avoided this by just stepping back. But your insistence to have Tav, one way or another – it's a risk I cannot take. I still need them."

A half-truth but good enough for the offender. Asking for Tav for a night of pleasure is bad enough. Nobody lays hands on his mouse. Nobody. But to hint that regardless of Raphael's decision he'd go forward with his plan. Unwise. Unhealthy.

Raphael considers for a moment. None of this seems adequate to the insult suffered. Ah. "Since you were so keen on physical pleasures, maybe that will help you understand where you went wrong?"

On cue, Haarlep enters the room, a wicked leer on their face and harness dropped already. They stroke themself and then the skinned devil. "Delicious, Raphael. You do have some good ideas now and then." Their claw rips along the bare flesh towards the devil's crotch.

"Oh, but you skinned his cock, Raph, how naughty." They laugh as they step behind the devil. "But I won't have to be careful now, will I?"

"Not the least." Raphael smiles tightly and lets a hand wander over the intact skin of the left wing. Let's see who of us can make him scream louder."

[loosesodamarble]

Yay! You're playing the song game too! I'm so glad! 💙 How about a song for Nacht? I haven't found one that makes me think of him yet (but I also haven't looked very hard...) so I'm very curious to hear what you've found if you don't mind sharing one. Thank you!

I didn't reblog your post intending to do the song game. I was just hoping more people would see it and take interest.

But hey, since you asked, I shall answer your question, Acacia~! 💖

(It's not a super long post but I'm gonna throw my answer under the cut.)

..........

Now I don't really go actively looking for songs that fit characters/ships so I don't have many in mind.

Although one song that I believe suits Nacht Faust is the song "That Lonesome Road" by James Taylor.

It's a somber song that urges the need to move on despite loss and past mistakes. Fitting the title, the song feels lonely. I personally believe the song is meant to be someone grieving speaking to themself, trying to talk themself into picking up their broken pieces. There's use of "you" and "I" in the song but it's not implying two different parties. The lines where the pronouns are included, saying to walk the lonesome road by "yourself" and later the lyrics saying "I'd not be on this road tonight," implies that the "you" and "I" are on the same road and thus the same person.

It's why I think this song is a good fit for Nacht. He spends far too long wallowing in grief and self-hatred over Morgen's death without truly moving on. And while Yami would definitely be there for Nacht to help him, Nacht ultimately needs to learn to walk the road of life without Morgen.

Also, a bunch of the imagery in the song is a very good match for Nacht.

The mention of a "silver moon" is pretty easy to connect. Nacht is the night and the moon to Morgen's sun. Also, there was that artwork for one of the chapters that showed Nacht with a full moon so... Yeah.

Less obviously, there are actions mentioned in the song that connect to Nacht's mistakes.

If I had stopped to listen once or twice If I had closed my mouth and opened my eyes If I had cooled my head and warmed my heart I'd not be on this road tonight

If Nacht had actually listened to Morgen, paid attention to the signs that Morgen loved him and wanted to work alongside him, then it's possible that Morgen would still be alive and Nacht wouldn't be left to grieve. Nacht's self-loathing and recklessness and fear overwhelmed his hope and love. That's part of why Nacht lost Morgen and I'm certain Nacht would realize that himself.

Never run feeling sorry for yourself It doesn't save you from your Troubled mind

Oh, these lines. They really hit me where it hurts (in a good way). Nacht's decade long pity party (that's what it is [sort of], I'm calling Nacht out on this) isn't healthy and it's actually worse for him than actually working up the strength to forgive himself.

I like this song and relating it to Nacht. It captures the loneliness Nacht feels without Morgen but it also is like a turning point for his character. This song does say to not look back, to move on. Nacht isn't going to forget Morgen but he does need to let go of his guilt and grief.

Thankfully, the road for Nacht isn't entirely lonely. There's his devils and Yami and Asta. Nacht will find his way, even without Morgen there.

[hellcab]

Hellcab NPC - Stephen Good

A prodigy of technology,  Stephen Good surpassed expectations in the coming information age. At age twenty, Good earned his first million, through revolutionizing personal home computers in 1988. Not satisfied, Good kept pushing the boundaries of innovation.

From a garage in Miami, to silicon valley, Stepehen Good’s ascension was unstoppable. Nothing could slow him down. Not that he would allow it, either. On the surface, Good was a socially awkward geek, but who always was mannered and even charitable. But underneath, Good was none of this. He was often times a cruel, egotistical cutthroat. A man who wanted everything. He used whatever means necessary to get what he wanted. If he could not buy an idea, he would steal it. If somebody complained, protested, Good made sure to turn their life into a miserable Hell. He destroyed not just his competition, but his friends as well. It didn’t matter if thousands of people went jobless, what mattered was Good winning. That’s all that mattered.

Nothing could stop Good. Until of course, Good died on New Year Eves, into the coming year of 2000. He arrived in Hell, transformed into an almost reptilian creature. He welcomed the change. Since damnation, Good has steadily built his empire in Hell, having become the main rival to Vox. Despite suffering serious wounds during Extermination Day in 2016, Good has crafted himself a cybernetic body. He now resembles a technological "devil".

Good has crafted another image in Hell. He’s an Overlord who cares about his employees. Do some “charity” here, add several “equal hiring practices” there, and Good won over Hell’s lower classes. Unknown to Hell, even to Lucifer, Good intends on taking over. Good not only wants Vox dead and gone, he wants Lucifer and the Sins removed from reality. He wants to reshape Hell into his technological utopia. A future of steel and glass, unrivaled. He has help, from an entity older than time itself. A being who considers themself, the one true God.

[empodio]

Effects of ‘Holy Water’ on Demons and Devils

When it comes to the concept of Holy Water, Demons and Devils have two concepts for it, in their own language, they have two different names: Vikol Izath and Douma Izath, translating to Human’s Brew and Douma’s Brew respectively. 

When talking about Vikol Izath, we talk about the traditional Holy Water present in human world, the one used to ward off demons, spirits and do cleanses, this Holy water does NOT hurt Demons nor Devils, if a demon goes to a church and gets splashed by it, they will not feel anything aside from just a splash of water. 

The only time Vikol Izath can cause issues is if a demon is ‘possessing’ a human, which is a rare occurrence, this will interrupt momentarily or stop the possession entirely depending on the amount of water used, if a Devil, however, is the one possessing a human, this water will have absolute no effect aside from some discomfort, often times their reactions is similar to that of having eaten something extremely sour, which is an immediate indicator that there needs to be other methods of getting rid of them.

It is extremely rare for a Devil to possess a human, and it is never done maliciously, there are other methods however to stop a Devil’s possession, but it is depending on the devil in charge.

However, when we talked about Douma Izath, it is an entirely different story, this brew is concocted by Douma themself, and while it can’t be made in great quantities (nothing Douma could use to turn a battle around) it does affect Demons and Devils in different ways.

When it comes to Demons, it can create severe burns on their skin, ingesting it is like swallowing poison and can make them shut down, most likely kill them. The brew is absolutely toxic to any regular demon, no matter how much they train, even to an Elite, they are not capable of fending it off, in the case a demon is using their Zesic Ulri, it will force them out of it immediately.

When it comes to Devils however, they have more tolerance to the mix for now (as Douma improves their ‘recipe’ over time, at current they have no need for it, but they may in the future), it will sting, it will bother them and hurt, but it’s not agonizing enough for them to be taken out of combat or disabled entirely. When it comes to their Zesic Ulri however, if they are unstable or exhausted, Douma Izath WILL take them out of the state, slower than a normal demon, but it will force the Zesic Ulri state to intensify, almost as a ‘berserk’ mode, to tire out faster the Devil until they are knocked out.

This is what was used on Axahs during their last war, and what almost got him killed, he completely ignored the feeling of being splashed by something, and had never been warned of what could happen. 

Masador’s experience dealing with any of thse two have been few and far inbetween, Vikol Izath graced his face once, as in the past he’d needed to possess someone to gather information for Sana. He describes it as putting an entire lemon in his mouth. 

As for Douma Izath, it has been provided to certain angels by Douma, and some have used it against Masador while he is defending Melobor, he’s fortunately not had anything severe like what Axahs went through, but is always wary of it, Masador claims that it has a very specific scent, especially when it hits the ground.

[voigtvir]

hunt, nightmare, and skin for cal and helios :3

HUNT: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

Cal:

his past, definitely. while he does have a person he's Haunted by perhaps, Mariel isn't hunting him. when he returns to the Gate, yeah, she seeks him out, but there's no seeking him out at any cost. instead, Cal is hunted by his past mistakes. he spent so long being ruthless and violent and swindling and cheating and reveling in his power (alongside Mariel) over other's. taking advantage of poor debt-ridden gamblers. beating his opponents to a pulp. he hates who he became, and he hates moreso that that version of him still exists and he still feels it so often. i think that's the way he's hunted by it. it keeps creeping back up on him. when arriving at Baldur's Gate is when he gets the most anxious bc he's not sure how much being back in these streets will bring back what he was and sometimes still is. if he'll run into people he threatened and blackmailed. he's always in between guard fully down and fully alert. never one or the other.

Helios

Helios is very very very literally being hunted by their father, Mikael. a handful of months prior to the mindflayer abduction, they had fled Avernus, and their father has been looking for them ever since. and no, they absolutely do not let their guard down. their father is a cambion (as are they, though just a hint more removed from their fiend origins) and on par in power with his brother, raphael, so they feel they'd be incredibly foolish to let their guard down.

NIGHTMARE: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Cal

he has nightmares about hurting people he loves. sometimes this dream version of himself does so on purpose, with intent and want. other times, it's Mariel encouraging and/or forcing him to in the same ways she would as his contract holder at the fighting ring. he doesn't tell people unless he really trusts them to understand (like Gale midway through act 2). usually he just tries to ignore it. but it always makes him more antsy and easy to rage day of

Helios

pretty predictably, they have nightmares of the hells all the time. whether it's specifically involving their father, or just the hells in general. being dragged back down, being chained, being found, whatever it is. they don't know how to deal with it, if they have one of these nightmares they'll be thinking about it endlessly all day. they normally think of such things even without the nightmare. they don't like to talk about their time in Avernus, so no, usually they don't tell people.

SKIN: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Cal

while I've just been talking about how afraid of himself he is, surprisingly he is actually relatively comfortable in his own skin. yes, in summary, he does grapple with something inside him. it's who he was raised to be since the moment he was brought into the Arena as an older teen, and he was so easily molded into that person. but he has, in his recent years, tried facing it. and he's tried coming to terms with it. it lives with him, as i said that version of him is still in him, but now it only really comes out in times of emotional duress (which bg3 certainly has a lot of). but he's tired of running. even if to stop running scares the fuck out of him.

Helios

unequivocally no, they are not comfortable in their skin. its not something that lives inside them, its them. they're a cambion, literally a devil. theyve been told manipulation and evil and pain lives in their DNA and have been punished greatly for ever straying away from that. and the worst part for them is that those things are incredibly incredibly easy and sometimes they like it. they were trained to be a puppeteer of all the people around them (save, of course, any who are deemed higher power than them, like their father). so do they face it? yeah. every day. they acknowledge it, and sometimes they still use it. its how they manage to stay in the party even post-cambion reveal, they twist what they know about each companions desires. something to the effect of: if you are constantly told you are a monster eventually you will start to believe it. so what else can you do but be the monster everyone claims you are. as a companion oc, it is up to Tav and party to determine if they see how much they are other than 'devil'.