#dtf oc

[malky-tea]

Namtar, the Visage of Death.

Yay, we've finally made it to Slayers. The long awaited seventh house and honestly, the closest to my heart.

Namtar is a very easy image to understand. The guys were engaged in literally causing death at the moment when someone had to end their life. Of course, they were not very well liked for that, but that's another story…

Negilia is a little gray girl. If it seems that this is my limit on the number of eyes, then no, I have more eye guys, however, for the whole image series in this regard Neg is the leader. Of course, I'm not fed with bread, let me screw on at least one extra eye, but here they were grown to track their victims faster, because Neg once suffered from competition. Fortunately, those days are over, and now she has a much happier life. A life of homelessness, but happiness is not in abundance. Even before the Abyss, she was a gray lump of compassion, so after languishing in the body of a vagrant, she was filled with peacemaking ideas and has been doing good and planting mercy for years. But even after becoming famous in narrow circles continues to live in a derelict.

[zak-dar]

They haven't even met at the game itself yet (they've only seen each other a couple of times in pre-game), but my friend and I have already determined everything for them

[evaamoor]

[herzspalter]

The Devil's Favourites Chapter 3- The Goat (Early Access)

I've finally gotten around to sit down and work on the comic! Chapter 3 is done and the raw version can be read in English and German as early access for Patreon and Kofi-members!

The chapter will be officially released once I've made a cover for it :D

I really really hope you like it!! Nervous as always to share, but happy to be here!

PATREON

KO-FI

[dushpshpsh]

a quick little sketch with apocalyptic form of my new demoness on oneshot on the right, she's on high Torment, and on the left on low

[nabaath-areng]

" You awake back there, kiddo? " " ......... "

@fourfoldfires old man Nix really makes things difficult for Ruby. <3

[malinainbloom]

Commission art for @aethismantis and her rebel cuties! Be careful, don't step on other friends👁️👁️

[chiss-ticism]

What I initially intended as a short blurb to describe my Slayer's closest friend and Thrall ended up getting away from me. The results - a short story - lay therein:

[🎨: Picture of a Crying Madonna, 1889. Hermann Kaulbach]

Incapable of paying debts accrued by her mother while she still lived, Daria - as the only living relative - was tapped by the Russian mafia to pay what was owed. Her home and car were a single droplet in an ocean of debt; with the mob's Damoclean sword dangling above the necks of herself and what few friends she had at the time, she found herself pressed into selling her dignity.

Shipped across the pond to America, a foreign land in which she only partially spoke the dominant language, she endeared herself to her pimp. It was, relatively, 'fine' as these sorts of arrangements go - she had a place to rest her head at night, guaranteed protection if something went awry with a john or jane, and food in her belly.

Until he found out that she happened to be eating for two.

Expected to keep earning - and having nowhere else to reasonably turn - she found herself seated amongst the pews of a small, unassuming Cathedral sometime after weekday Mass. Spiritual salvation was the furthest thing from her mind - she just needed somewhere calm and quiet to rest her head and the library was hardly open for as long as she would like. Yet, unuttered as her prayers were, they were heeded by one of His angels nonetheless.

A kindly, unassuming bearded man in his early-to-mid thirties introduced himself as Deacon Franklin Ramos and - sensing a lack of wariness directed at him - invited her to speak about what brought her to his doorstep. For hours, she unburdened herself - and he listened without judgement, offering her what meagre help he could from his parish. No expectation of joining, no proselytizing in His or Mary's name, no illicit favors - no catch… At a loss for words, she struggled to say much of anything.

"Say nothing." He said, the dark skin around his eyes crinkling with mirth; candlelit shadows dancing on the wall behind him. "You have nothing to thank me for, Ms. Markova. Things were never meant to get this bad - but take heart that all will be good in the end."

He looked old then. Older than he had any right to; decades of world-weary dread weighing down his posture. The light in his eyes was dull and jaded, threatening to sputter out on occasion yet somehow managing to keep burning as best it knew how.

In time, Daria had a new apartment to call her own, funded in no small part by the parishioners of the church. She and the Reverend met for coffee once a week. Things were 'relatively' on the up-and-up, save the unsavory rumors floating around about a 'so-called'-man of God cavorting around with a lady of the night.

After her son was born, Franklin found time to make a house call at the Markova residence.

"You are angel, you know that Reverend?" Daria remarked warmly from the doorway, dabbing softly at her lips with a crumpled paper towel following one of her coughing fits.

The person-suit said nothing for a moment as he watched Levi's little chest rise and fall underneath his soft blue swaddling. A finger gently rises to his lips to silence her. "…He has just fallen asleep."

She nodded, hobbling to stand next to him; their companionable silence only offset by the lullaby faintly chiming from the mobile overhead. Around and around the little angels spun, protecting the boy as he slumbered in blissful ignorance.

They left the room after some time, the reverend gathering his coat - mentally rehearsing his excuse to take his leave.

"I do not know what I would do if something happened to me, Reverend." She mused softly as she pulled the door shut.

Shaken from his thoughts, he turned

his gaze to her. "Come again?"

"With my work. With Vasily." She explained, fumbling around her coat pocket for a cigarette. "I have already made vow before God - I will be better mother than my own was ever to me - I said. He will hold me accountable to this."

"But if I was to be arrested, spend years in rotting away in some American prison while my baby spends his formative years surrounded by strangers. Strangers with dubious intentions?"

Her face darkened fitfully as she finally found her nicotine-laced bounty. Lightning it, she took a long drag - making sure to blow it away from Levi's room.

"Or worse - if I end up like my father? I could not bear it, Reverend."

She was met by a long, pregnant pause.

"I am sorry, Reverend. It has been lo-"

"I could help you." he added softly, coat long forgotten - cast aside and draped across the arm of a recliner.

"I appreciate the offer, Reverend, but there is little time in a clergyman's day for the raising of the children. Besides-"

"You misunderstand me." He said simply. Seeing the confusion writ large across her face, he continued. "I am offering you the means of protecting yourself - and your connection to your son… It is not a gift offered lightly, Daria."

"What gift?" She asks, nervously twirling the cigarette betwixt her fingers.

"A gift from From Him, passed down to me, and offered freely to you."

Silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in from the window, wings the color of the night sky sprouted from his back - not quite having enough room in the small apartment to reach their full wingspan. Four identically shaped, but significantly smaller, wings were given form from each side of his head, each folding inward to his eyes and ears… Smoke accumulated from the working woman's cigarette seemed to pool and cluster around him, purified by his very presence - smoky smog to clear vapors, enshrouding and obscuring the Fallen Angel.

Gripped by pure, instinctual terror - Daria froze in place, her cigarette plopping ineffectually ontop of the dozens of others in her ashtray. Her skin grew clammy, her eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets as her brain struggled to process what exactly it was that she was seeing.

"𝔅𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔡" the meat-suit spoke again, its voice sickeningly sweet and as calm as it ever had been. "ℑ 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔣. 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢, 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰. 𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 ℑ 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔦𝔱."

"ℑ 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔦𝔱 𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔰𝔬𝔪, 𝔰𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱."

"𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢, 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔞?"

[tomatikoma]

The Fifth House

Returning home after a hard day the demon's first order of business was to draw a full tub of water. It wasn't perfect. Too many chemicals, too…. viscous. But it was the best available, so they weren't too picky. It was the end of their little cleansing ritual, as if all the filth of his soul had protruded with the sweat and could simply be washed away with the water. Ah if only… The world would be a much better place if it worked that way. But they were going to make it a better place. In their view, humanity lacked love. They all lacked love. Their father abandoned them and cursed them before slamming the door. That kind of thing doesn't disappear without a trace. Love and acceptance. Yes. Those two things. Something they had never seen from their Father, but so desperately needed. But they had those two things in abundance. With a satisfied rumble, the demon sank a little deeper into the water, letting it splash over the edge of the tub. They would fill people with love the same way they filled the bathtub in the evenings. Letting it spill out. And then it will fill someone else's bathtub. And then another and another. Until the whole world is drowning in love. They'll drown the whole world.

[beanphomet]

Umis and Bahir

Low and high torment

Bird covered in oil and rusted gold

[malky-tea]

Yay, the whole series in one place! I love making big projects, just to then assemble them into something GIGANTIC and admire. And I couldn't help but do that this time too. And, yes, I'm a curious weak person, so here's the poll again…

[zak-dar]

My character Clint (previously had a post with him) and my friend's character (also a demon).

I didn't write about Clint in the previous post simply because I didn't come up with him completely then. Okay, he's an actor by training and at the time of the game is participating in a show at one of the major hotels in Vegas. He worked hard and at the same time he had chronic insomnia, so when he overdid sleeping pills, a demon named Mitras possessed him. Mithras is a demon of the first house, and also a Faustian, so now "Clint" is increasing his influence and striving for domination. The client, while he was a human being, often felt disenfranchised and powerless in front of people above him in status, and was angry at them. Now it has resulted in sadistic tendencies, sometimes even with sexual overtones. However, the desire to sexually dominate arises only in relation to another Fallen Gino (my friend has not yet thought out the name for the demon). Clint (being Fallen) feels some confusion about this: on the one hand, the demon in Gino was partly his subordinate during the War and he treats him neutrally-positively, on the other, being in Gino made him nervous and feel his own human impotence in front of the mafia. But the biggest question is: why does Clint want to fuck him? While he himself does not know the answer to this question.

[evaamoor]

baali Vaskhar & rabisu IxTab

[gomzdrawfr]

"....Raven knew he sought for the rain when things were heavier than usual, the cold splatter grounded him. But now, she wondered if he was here to feel the cold, or to hide the tears he would never allow anyone to see"

[nordlichtkunst]

Raziel, currently known as Aurèle, another World of Darkness character (Demon: the Fallen, this time). Idk why but it's very funny to me how much he ended up looking like Just Some Guy. Like. First of all, this is a fallen angel of death. And also. Fallen angels need a human host body, and his body used to belong to a woman so the body is not even a guy! (whether or not Raziel is, is... More complicated)

Also while not visible in the scan, the feather were colored with metallic pencil so they're shiny :3

[maxahlia]

A new host for Vela.