#talking heads please

[gentlethorns]

time moves so fast. so so fast. where does it go and why does it rush to get there

[sysig]

Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)

[phantomskeep]

DC x DP prompt but it's just Danny acting like an ectoplasmic Venom with [insert DC character here]

Danny, after spotting a powerful hero having trouble: Oh no! I should help!

Jason "I've-Had-Too-Much-Of-This-Shit-Already" Todd: what the fuck why am I glowing

Danny, covering this helmeted fruit loop who was trying to fight tEN PEOPLE AT ONCE ARE YOU INSANE-: hi :D We're friends now :D

Jason: internal screaming

[zephyrchama]

A New Game

It must get boring playing the same mundane games, like rock-paper-scissors, for millennia. The Obey Me cast would probably jump at the opportunity to try something new. Something introduced from the human world. (This fic is not explicit in nature but repeatedly uses a word some people consider naughty.)

---

You received a message from Lucifer.

"My brothers are studying in the library. I have to step out for a while, will you supervise them until my return?"

The RAD library was busier than usual with students rushing to cram before the next big exam. The usually serene room had demons occupying every nook. Some sat on the floor with their back to a bookcase, some perched on the ladders leading up the shelves, and few were lucky to have a table seat.

Six of the seven brothers sat around one such coveted table. Lesser demons shied away from approaching them and even the more powerful students felt uneasy walking by. You were the only one with both guts and permission to approach.

The atmosphere was strange. They looked focused and were completely silent, so you greeted them with a wave and slid into the last open chair. Must have been Lucifer's. You leaned forward against the table edge and took a peak at Satan's advanced curse notes.

Things were too still. It felt wrong. At a glance they appeared to be studying, surrounded by book stacks and messy note sheets, but the brothers stared blankly at the material in front of them them without actually interacting with it. Something was up.

Leviathan made a barely perceptible sound. You looked at him, but brushed it off as your imagination when you realized he hadn't moved. It could have been someone nearby turning the page of a book.

At least they were all behaving. You couldn't force them to study, you were just there to supervise. You took a moment to enjoy the rare sight of the grand library being full. It was weirdly inspiring. A minute later you saw Mammon's lips twitch. He definitely said something under his breath.

"What?" you whispered, leaning his way.

Mammon dismissed you with a wave of his hand, shaking his head. You gave him a confused look.

Another mumble came from the opposite direction. You swung your head towards Asmodeus but he was fixated on a blank potion worksheet. He didn't so much as flinch when you narrowed your eyes suspiciously and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Ok. What's going on?" you asked. If this was a new way to study, it sucked.

Beelzebub coughed. It was so obviously fake. The way he covered his mouth made it hard to discern what he said.

"Lucifer's not here, you know. You guys can tell me." Would you rat them out if they were doing something malicious? That remained to be seen.

Feeling that someone was going to try again, you abandoned any hope of studying and focused all your senses towards the brothers. Who would be next to move?

It was both Satan and Belphegor. Being across from each other, you couldn't pay attention to them both and missed what they each said. They broke the stillness to make eye contact with each other and clenched their jaws in frustration.

Asmodeus took advantage of the moment to act next. The boys were getting a little louder each time, and this time you could almost make out what was said.

"...nis." Leviathan briefly shrunk behind a stack of books to say his piece.

Realization began dawning on you.

Beelzebub pretended to clear his throat. You were ready this time, and caught the word clear as day. "Penis."

By goodness, they were playing the human game you told them about. The Penis Game.

"What are the stakes? What are you playing for?" You had to know. They were doing this in the school's library, of all places? The brothers eyed each other with distrust.

"Winner gets to have you sit in their lap when Lucifer gets back," Leviathan explained, throwing a quick "penis" onto the end of his sentence.

You wondered if Lucifer would even allow that while Mammon said "penis," plain as day. A passing gaggle of students looked over.

Up on the second floor, a random demon stumbled and almost fell off a ladder, sending the books they carried crashing to the ground. Satan took advantage of the noise to say "penis" in a louder-than-average tone. The stakes were rising.

You were supposed to be supervising these guys, to make sure they studied properly to pass their exams. You should have put a stop this game. But it was funny and you were too curious how it'd unfold.

Belphegor shut his eyes. After a few deep breaths, he snorted a noise that resembled the word.

"That doesn't count," Asmodeus pouted. "It wasn't clear enough. Penis."

Belphegor furrowed his brow and cracked an eye open. "What? Yes it does. I said penis, didn't I?"

Satan clicked his tongue. "That's debateable. Penis."

The table was now speaking rather loudly and attracting stares from every direction. Nobody would dare shush the rulers of the Devildom without a death wish, but they could observe them in silence.

"I-I don't know how much longer I can do this... P-penis." Leviathan was at his limit. He didn't like the stares. Maybe if you had told them this was the "anime game" he would have stood a chance.

"What? We're just saying penis." Asmodeus had no reservations at all.

"Penis." While Mammon called out, students noticeably began trickling out of the library.

"Maybe we should wrap this up, you guys are disturbing everyone," you gingerly suggested.

"That's not fair, penis. Are you saying you want to sit in Mammon's lap?" Belphegor scowled.

Beelzebub, newly determined to beat his older brother and spurred on by his twin, bellowed "penis."

The yelling caused more students to pack up their belongings and scurry out. You cringed a bit. All remaining eyes in the library were on your table. "No! I'm not favoring anyone, but this is getting out of hand."

"Penis! They're just jealous! Come over here, I'll take good care of you." Mammon patted his thigh.

"Absolutely not! Mammon, get away from them! Penis!" Asmodeus shouted and grabbed your shoulder. Uh oh.

The physical altercation began. Satan growled, "don't touch them," and shoved Asmodeus into Leviathan's textbook stack. "Penis."

"H-hey! Watch it! Ugh, penis!" Leviathan scrambled to avoid Asmodeus' fist.

"Wow, Satan! Rude! What if I got scratched? Penis!" Asmodeus lurched at Satan, who ducked and sent the former crashing into Beelzebub.

Beelzebub didn't really care, but he still wanted to win. "Penis."

"Yeah, penis. You said it Beel." You didn't really get what he meant, but Belphegor was upset in his twin's place.

"I'm winnin' this thing! Penis!" Mammon nearly toppled the table over.

Everyone was straining to shout as loud as they could, a rowdy chorus of "penis" chants. You watched the insanity of the scene unfold in front of you, hoping demon forms would not get involved.

Something made you shudder. An ice cold, low rumble of a voice from the library entrance that cut through all the arguing and screams.

Lucifer had returned. "You're not studying."

He was followed by Lord Diavolo and Barbatos who both remained quiet, letting Lucifer deal with his family.

"You disrupt our meeting for this?" Lucifer's eyes could have had flames in them. A black mist emanated from his shoulders. He was furious. "Do you know how many complaints we received? Half the student body showed up, knocking at our door."

Diavolo was beside himself trying to maintain composure befitting a royal. He wanted nothing more than to laugh. Lucifer was not going to hear the end of this incident.

Barbatos had a cold smile plastered to his face and a hand on his chest, implying that one wrong move would result in unfathomable punishment.

The brothers shifted uncomfortably back into their chairs, dragging textbooks towards them and guiltily sticking their noses back into piles of notes. They didn't dare utter a single word.

"Don't think any of you are getting off scott free." Lucifer loomed over them. They could already feel the impending rope burn on their skin.

"If you wanted extra duties so badly, there are many sites on school grounds that can use improvement. You could have just asked." Barbatos was happy to take advantage of their suffering if it was beneficial for Diavolo.

Lucifer looked at you. He wasn't mad, just disappointed, which felt worse. "Don't think you're innocent, either. You were supposed to be supervising them."

You nervously averted your eyes, slumping your shoulders while picking at the corner of some notebook paper as he continued, "come with us back to the council room. You're giving us a detailed report on exactly what happened here, and what this 'penis game' malarkey is all about."

[miguxadraws]

famous last words

au belongs to @spitinsideme

[divorcedfiddleford]

leave the door ajar

[xiewho]

could i get a fabian pretty pls… possessed would be cool but anything with him is fine

based on that one fake bad kids twt thread that i Cannot find for the life of me

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[tzarrz]

to all people who said PART 1 made them laugh - i lov u 💗 this is for u

[vicsy]

used to be, you and me

[girlbossdarkiplier]

(starts chewing at the bars of my enclosure)

i think its very interesting that dark/characters associated with him are so connected with stars/space. celine having her black dress with the white star pattern and then ms whitacre with the scarf (?) with glittery stars.

and then when celine helps y/n see into the future, their visions are backed with this black and white star backround. (sorry its hard to see in this image)

a common motif is also dark manipulating tv noise/fuzz which is created from cosmic radiation

like this doesn't mean literally anything but i think its very neat

[cable-salamder]

Thinking about Ronin and Nya far too much again why can’t I have what they have (found Crime dad and Angry water child dynamic)

[vaggieslefteye]

HUSK, Hotel Bartender & Concierge | 1x04 - Masquerade

"Oh, I FORGOT — you're the wise-old bartender who's seen it all! Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink."

[meamiiikiii]

[reverse entry au]

a story in two parts

(poor isabeau clicked the wrong chat ASDASFASDAS)

and a bonus! the full pfps below:

*points*

look at those minecraft bgs that i built ASFASFDADADA

[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[wackysach]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝕿𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓪 𝕽𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓻

𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂. ⋆˙⟡