#(the problem is... he's always fucking right. he's either blessed or haunted by a spirit of fortune)

[ndostairlyrium]

✨ Now available for Tarot readings, futile curses, and delicious hexes! ✨

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My chaotic kiddo plus my favorite ability <3

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss S2: "Heavenly Tour"

A divine courtroom of Thrones in the High Halo of Diligence…floors, columns and ceiling are black marble, with stained glass windows etched in gold. A golden set of scales gleams on a pedestal.

“Demons arriving to Earth unattended! This is an outrage!”

“Look closer through the hovering sphere. They’re not harming any mortals; they are just having fun! Besides, they are allowed to come up to Earth on Halloween like all spirits do.”

“So what? There’s always the risk of demons possessing humans or tricking them! No spirit should be allowed to invade Earth!”

“Like ancestors and spirit guides haven’t ‘invaded’ Earth for thousands of years to support and visit their loved ones which is perfectly acceptable!”

“Maybe in another universe. Have you forgotten that only lost souls stay on Earth and the rest go to Heaven or Hell?”

“Don’t forget about Purgatory and the other afterlives in Egypt, Norse, India…”

“Enough with going off-topic, we don’t have eternity, you know!”

“And I suppose angels aren’t allowed to interfere either?”

“If the demons cause any trouble, then I say angels should absolutely keep watch!”

“Don’t you think we’re getting a little too concerned about humans? Perhaps we should leave them be…”

“Oh no. We may be more detached from human emotions, but as keepers of divine order, it is our duty to make sure mortals don’t cause any trouble either. After all, they have a chance at salvation.”

“Only a slim chance! A majority go to Hell! Why waste time over God’s flawed creation?”

“Yeah, you’re right, angels are the superior species…”

“And yet demons came from angels. And God wanted Eden to be made for humans. He gave them free will.”

“When they should’ve listened and obeyed God from the beginning.”

“God knew they would eat the fruit. So why punish Lucifer and Lilith, the ones he created?”

“Going off topic, here. Demon spies partying on Earth. Allow or cease?”

“Trying to stop demons from going to Earth would rise a debate with the princes of Hell. Do we really want to complicate matters again?”

“Here’s a proposition. We further discuss the matter with the elders of Hazbin Heaven.”

“Not advisable. They are currently in mourning over their lost general Adam. They are trying to decide if the Exterminations should continue.”

“No doubt a Heaven-Hell war will occur again in their world. How will that affect us?”

(50 minutes later)

“Again, off topic. In my opinion, I think I’d trust our council of elders rather than Sera…Roo’s influencing her and she’s hiding the truth from the rest of Heaven.”

“So, if demons can be killed by angels in Hell, can we…I don’t know, take care of the wild party demons going to Earth?”

“We shall keep a close watch on them. If there is even a hint of them trying to influence mortals, we will act.”

“Also, we have another case to send the Exorcist Eagles down to confront Leviathan. I’m tired of hearing about hauntings and possessions. In a few days, we will inquire of the deeds of Camael’s anti-Asmodean cherubs.”

“So, if angels possessed humans, would that also be bad? Perhaps we could do that as a last resort.”

“Doesn’t matter. If we do decide to act, there should be ordinance from the Archangels, the Cherubim and Seraphim from the Primum Mobile and higher spheres. And God of course.”

“And there’s the parallel timeline problem, too. We can’t kill anyone from the canon worlds.”

“And we won’t. But no matter what, all the worlds need to be as balanced as possible.”

“All in favor of biding for now and keeping watch on mortals and demons from both realms?”

“Here.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely.”

“A unanimous vote. Let’s get back to our tasks and families. Thank you for your time and may God bless us all. Meeting adjourned.”

0 0 0

“YOU’RE INVITED!!”  “Has Blitzo broken your fucking heart? Do you desire revenge and Halloween fun? Come on over to our Halloween party in the human world (located at 666 South Maple Avenue) for closure and to indulge in our shared hatred for that miserable fuckboy. Enjoy Blitzo body cake, Beelzejuice drinks, music and fun! Also featuring yours truly in concert! Hope to see you there. Verosika Mayday.”

Verosika handed out invitations to her anti-Blitzo party. Incubi and succubi flew off through the Lust Ring, handing out the invites or posting them online for more demons to see. Several succubi and incubi grinned with excitement and started to plan their Halloween costumes.

“I’m so gonna be a mermaid this year!”

“I’m thinking…high school cheerleader!”

“Haha! Witch, please!”

“How about…an angel. The goofy kind, not, you know…”

“That’s a great idea! There’s a spider shopkeeper that sells great sex toys, I bet he could weave up some outfits for us!”

“Me and my brother will make the Blitzo voodoo dolls! My mom’s side of the family comes from Envy.”

“You wanna come with us, too?”

“Nah. I much prefer Hell’s Halloween tradition of surprise-attacking the weaker ones and trick-or-treating for hearts and guts!”

“Your loss, buddy!”

“Hey, Ver,” said a succubus band member. “Where will it be at?”

“Me and my crew have been searching the mortal world and we found this nice mansion on a hill near a forest. The people are out for the night, so thankfully there will be no intervention needed. We got our Asmodean crystals ready for the portal. It begins after sundown.”

“I hear it’s a full moon, too! Extra spooky and special!”

“Hey, Verosika, girl! Great to hear from you! A party in the human world, very unique! I’ll send over some Beelzejuice for you, on the house!”

“Thanks, Bee! I think me and my crew have the perfect idea for the cake, hahahaha!”

“I’ll see you soon, Ver. The band equipment is working, and the stage will soon be set up.”

“Thanks, Tex, I know I can always count on you!”

The invitations spread far and wide throughout the Rings. Several goat demons with candles on their heads peered at theirs with curiosity from the Sloth Ring. Hellhounds from Gluttony howled in excitement and gathered bags of candy and alcoholic drinks.

In the Wrath Ring, a group of muscular imps laughed while sitting in a wooden tavern.

“Check it out, man,” one of them said, holding up an invite. “A Halloween party in the mortal world! Let’s go!”

“Can’t wait to swing my fists at some Blitzo targets,” another chimed in. The scrawny imp Dennis walked with a group of imps with their invites. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew Dennis’ invitation from his hands.

“Way to go, Dennis,” one of them rolled his eyes. “You just lost your invite!”

“You suck, Dennis,” added the other. Dennis flinched with a sad look on his face.

The invitation blew in the air, throughout the desert, until it landed on the dusty ground. A shadow hovered over the card.

0 0 0

(A card with a smiling Docile posing on the front) “YOU’RE INVITED!!  Let’s celebrate our Employer of the Year: Docile! As founder of E.L.F., he is committed to helping mortals heal, saving them from danger, battling demons, and being a source of inspiration for all angels, especially saints, winners, and ex-humans. For his birthday, we’ll celebrate in the human world on Halloween (at 777 North Maple Avenue). Feel free to dress up in costume. There will be drinks, music, singing and fun. Be sure to greet the humans and be on the lookout for any demons roaming Earth. Hope to see you there! – Docile (Be there or be Tirred)”

Note: All E.L.F. staff are required to attend.

Tirred scowled. “F**k my afterlife.” He held back against the temptation to rip the piece of paper.

“Oh, come on, Tirred! This party will be fun!” said Sunna. She was dressed in a Greek-style white dress and her thick hair was in ringlets and gold bands. “They’ll be drinks, music, maybe some diluted alcohol.”

“Every year, we have to go to that stupid party and listen to Docile brag about his accomplishments! It’s worse than all our regular work meetings!”

Docile grinned at Tirred. “I have to have all you guys there. You know it makes our company look good. Reputation.”

“Can’t I have just one day where everyone worships me instead?” Tirred asked.

“Well, feel free to celebrate your birthday…by yourself!” Timmid muttered out loud with a glare. Timmid and Tirred were still going back and forth in their frosted relationship.

Tirred sighed. “Well, if I do have to go…I guess it’s not too different from watching mortals in the human world. I suppose I could…”

“Pranking mortals? Absolutely not, Tir,” Docile chided, jabbing a finger at him.

“Reading my mind, how rude!” Tirred spat. “It’s called ‘trick-or-treat’ for a reason…and it’d be a real treat to trick some people!”

“Remember the last time?” Docile glared. “You thought that wrapping up a bunch of bullies in toilet paper and hanging them from a tree was a good idea.”

Tirred smirked. “It certainly was…”

“Not!” Docile barked. “It took forever to untangle them.”

“Oh, remember that one time I spiked some candy with ‘Haniel’s Hallelujah’ serum? It made several of the kids confess their love and their darkest secrets!” Tirred chuckled.

Docile rolled his eyes. “Oh, it was real fun, until the parents almost called the police on us! And I had to undo the spell. You’re lucky I didn’t force you to drink some of it yourself.”

“It was pretty funny,” Sunna admitted. Even Timmid smiled a bit.

“Anyway,” Docile said, waving a finger at Tirred. “I’m keeping a very close eye on you. Stay out of trouble and maybe, I’ll give you an extra raise.”

A pause.

“Fine,” Tirred huffed, slouching away.

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen,” Timmid said.

“I heard that!”

So Docile sent out the invitations to his party and, naturally, many angels were thrilled. Soon, the costumes were ready. Some angels dressed like demons, some like angels, some wore cheerleader outfits and dresses and knight armor, and of course, the classic costumes of ghosts, vampires, mummies, witches, and various monsters. Archangel Haniel, the ruling Virtue of the Temperance Halo sent over some sweet drinks to share: bottles with the Venus sign on them. Some were alcoholic and some were not. There was a note that came with them, “Have fun! Drink in moderation! – Haniel.”

 Timmid smiled as she twirled in a light blue princess dress with a blonde wig and a crown. Sunna, dressed in her Greek goddess outfit eyed catnip candy, but looked away after Docile glanced her way. Docile was dressing as himself, of course. The three E.L.F. members laughed as they carved pumpkins at the round worktable, making jack-o-lanterns shaped like grinning elves with large eyes and sharp teeth.

“Oh, your eyes look like lopsided triangles, Sunna,” Docile mentioned.

Sunna shrugged and continued carving.

“Oh Sunna, don’t eat the pumpkin seeds.”

“Oh, sorry sir,” Sunna blinked, putting down a messy brown paw before licking it.

“Maybe some humans will enjoy our works of art,” said Timmid.

“Maybe if me make them more angelic…” Docile wondered.

Sunna added, “Nah. Keep them unique. Some humans may appreciate the more primal forms of angels.”

“Good point, Sunny.”  Docile kissed his adoptive daughter and she purred softly.

“Anyone wanna smash pumpkins that look like Tirred?” Timmid asked with a wink.

“Sure!” Docile called while Sunna countered, “No! That’s not nice!”

Docile grinned anyway and tossed a grumpy Tirred-shaped jack-o-lantern to the floor. Timmid and Docile laughed out loud. Sunna rolled her eyes. “You guys are so immature.” She grabbed a catnip candy and popped it into her mouth. Her pupils rolled around, and she let out several whispers of meows.

“There goes your big ego head!” Timmid laughed.

“Hey, Tirred!” Docile called with a laugh. “Clean up this mess, will ya? We gotta get our things through the Camaelean Crystal portal!” He displayed a pink crystal inside a small black box with Camael’s sigil on top.

“How’d you get the crystal?” asked Sunna.

“My airheaded sister sent it with a cheesy ‘sorry’ note.” He spoke in a high babyish voice, “’Oh special bro, I’m so sowy, pwease accept this crystal and help me convert humans to my ridiculous evangelical fantasies!’” Sunna and Timmid giggled.

Docile smiled and called. “Come on, Tirred, those pumpkin guts ain’t gonna clean themselves!”

“Plus, you have a stack of overdue paperwork on your desk to do!” Sunna added.

Docile blinked. “Tirred? Where’d you go?”

Tirred, having seen the sickening spectacle, somberly sunk into the shadows and out of the office.

0 0 0

“Hello, hello, hello, Samael!” Tirred called.

Samael was currently relaxing in his own private backyard on a golden lawn chair decorated with bloodred gems. A nearby stream of lava bubbled into a pool. Several trees hung fruits of immortality from them, granting knowledge and a fresh boost for immortals. On a side table was a glass of red wine. Next to that was a small portrait of Lilith, her long red hair, red lips, pale white skin and smooth chest kept Samael peeking. In his lap was a book: “Methods of Judgement For Mortals, Gods and Everyone In-Between.” His short blonde hair shone in the sun, and he wore a dark black robe and comfortable black shoes. Hie eyes simmered like calm hot coals.

“Hey, that’s not Lilith from Hazbin,” Tirred mentioned.

“Oh, an annoying elf,” Samael called, still staring at the pages. “I don’t need to talk to things like those.”

With effort, Tirred climbed over the black iron fence, landing on the ground, somehow without falling.

“How wonderful to see you too, Your Grace.” He brushed himself off. “I suppose if I were my boss, you’d have that crazed lust thing going on with me.”

“And I suppose you do? Why would I have any interest in a subordinate elf who always complains in the background?”

Tirred walked over, despite his trembling legs. “And why are you so interested in our business of helping mortals? All you seem to care about is punishment. What satisfaction do you get out of punishing my boss? He clearly doesn’t enjoy it.”

Samael looked over and smirked. “He’s not really supposed to. Like I.M.P. he’s technically going to Earth without permission.”

“And he’ll do so again at his stupid birthday party on Earth! Doesn’t that deserve some reprimanding?”

“Demons are allowed on Earth every Hallow’s Eve. Angels are spirits, too, so I see no difference.”

“But you’d love to torture the black hearts out of demons,” Tirred said, posing by the side table. He lowered the book so Samael could see his face. “And frankly, I would, too.” He spoke seductively, “Perhaps we could have some fun and I could…suffer for my sins?” He winked.

Samael chuckled. “Docile can barely hold his own against me. I’d roast you alive in minutes.”

“So, you’re saying…I’m good enough to eat?”

Samael went back to his book.

“Seriously, sir? Have you even tried me out? You think I’m petty and weak, but you don’t even know me!”

Samael closed the book and got up. “It brings me pleasure to see Docile’s goal to help and redeem Sinners and humans temporarily extinguish in his eyes when he faces my wrath. I wish I could say the same for you.”

Tirred fumed as Samael walked toward one of the trees.

“With all due respect, sir. If you don’t care for mortals, why allow us to keep our business in the first place?”

Samael sighed. “While I’d love to exterminate all the Sinners in Hazbin Hell and the other Hell for that matter and expose every human on Earth, that’d bring things out of balance. Like the Angel of Death Azrael, I only help determine who’s worthy for Heaven and let humans deal with their karma on their own.” He plucked a red apple and took a bite. “Like imps, you elves are of common nature, unpredictable. The succubi, cherubs, and other official beings work exclusively for the higher powers like the Archangel Virtues and the Deadly Sins.”

Samael savored the juice before continuing. “If elves and imps get killed or cast out, we’ll always have more for work. But…Docile’s determination to aid in the quest to preserve Earth and redeem God’s creation…I guess it’s admirable in its own way.”

Tirred sighed. “Heaven and Hell’s rules and roles are confusing. So…are you going to the party?”

“Certainly not!” Samael waved a hand. “Frivolous parties in the mortal world are nothing compared to my more important matters.”

“Believe me, sir, I’d rather be roasted by you, than have to go to that required party!”

Samael chuckled some more. “Here’s this for a roast: if you’re required to celebrate your boss, are you Docile’s jester or are you the one who gets violently drunk that he has to carry home?”

Tirred fumed again. “T-that’s not the kind of roasting I meant!”

Samael enjoyed his apple some more.

“Is there anything I can do to make me worthy of your attention?” Tirred asked.

“Hmm…being your own boss? Becoming an Exorcist? Bringing back the heads of my enemies?”

“I’d gladly work for you, sir!”

“Your loyalty is to Docile. And his agony is loyal to me.”

“Are we just pawns for your pleasure?!”

Samael shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Tirred fell on his knees. “Please let me prove my worth to you! I’ll be your prey at the New Moon! I can bring your Bible just as easily! I’ll take charge of E.L.F. if I have to!”

Samael waved a dismissive hand. “Strange little man. Go have fun at the party and come back when you’re a true leader with a sexy girl at your side.”

“Oh, f**k you.” Tirred glowered, stomping away.

Samael called, “I’ll promote you if you can magically uncensor all swearing in Heaven!”

“Go to Hell!”

“I can go where I please, unlike you! Hahahaha!”

Tirred sat on his bed, glowering and hurt. Samael had considered him unworthy once again, Docile was getting all the praise, Timmid was giving him the cold shoulder, Sunna was…being Sunna, and his mother was convinced he was no better than a demon unless he could become an Exorcist and kill one.

It was an everyday ordeal: following Docile’s orders to help mortal strangers, remembering the times where he was both spoiled and reprimanded by his mother, realizing that Timmid was never as timid as he thought…

Putting up a bravado of superiority and ignorance to hide the darkness welling up inside…it was no wonder Tirred was tired all the time.

He tried his best to push aside the feelings of loneliness and unworthiness, but to no avail. The last thing he wanted was to go to the party a sobbing mess.

What could he do before he had to go to the party?

Strangely enough, Tirred had an urge to apologize to people. Not profusely but…perhaps a little bit to show he wasn’t a complete jackass to everyone. He missed Timmid’s warm embraces, and the comforting looks she would give him when he got too over his head.

He knew that simply saying sorry to Timmid wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to save her life or work for the community and use a lot of poetic words to win her back over. At least, that’s what he figured. He’d never been really good at apologizing…but at least he could try.

Did she secretly miss him as much as he missed her?

Timmid had saved his life when he was possessed by Kiva at the beach. Docile had reminded him that his duty to those strange humans and to the few elves and cat he could call semi-friends, was worth more than his parents’ ambitions for him or his own distorted dreams.

“Timmid, I’m sorry, so, so, sorry,” he whimpered into the blackness. He meant it the more he dwelled on it. It was only silence that seemed to truly understand and comfort him. Was he destined to be alone in the fake paradises they called the two Heavens?

He tried texting Timmid three times, but he always erased the message before he could send it. ‘Why am I such a wimp at this?!’

He then paused in thought. Docile still used the Bible to travel to the human world and in his interaction with Samael. But he also knew that his sister Holly Wata sent him a Camaelean crystal, hoping he would reunite with her and join her cause. (He hadn’t.) The crystal could not only create portals to Earth, but also to other Halos in Heaven.

Tirred also wondered if Hell and the Hazbin world were also included, but he brushed his curiosity aside. With that crystal, he could sneak out of the party and go pretty much anywhere!

‘Wait, I can’t steal Docile’s crystal,’ he thought. ‘He’d read my thoughts once I was in the door! I have nowhere to go…’

Tirred took a breath and headed glumly back to the office. A fox angel suddenly appeared in his path, wearing a gray coat and top hat. He spread out his arms, revealing rusty trinkets.

“Hidey ho, little elf!”

“Move it, foxy,” Tirred seethed.

The scammer fox posed with a shiny pink crystal attached to his wrist. Tirred’s eyes lit up.

‘How illogically convenient,’ Tirred thought.

“Want a handy watch, or a screwdriver, or a genuine bottlecap bracelet?”

Tirred glared.

 “Or…perhaps my magic one-of-a-kind crystal?”

“Yeah,” Tirred said, holding out a hand.

The sly fox grinned. “You have 1000 spirits?”

Tirred glared.

“No? Oh dear. No crystal for you, sir! Perhaps you could offer me something else…”

The fox appeared behind him and was about to swipe at his wallet in his pocket…

WHACK!

With a powerful punch, Tirred turned around and sent the trickster flying backwards into a nearby brick wall. He fell with a thud onto the ground.

“Tut tut,” he said, walking over to the groaning fox. “And I thought angels were supposed to be non-deceivers.”

He reached down and unlatched the crystal from the fox’s wrist. “I’ll take that.”

“Give that back, you snot-faced freak!”

“Oh really?” Tirred asked as the fox stood up. He waved the crystal. “I bet you stole this, didn’t you?” He noticed a concerning thin black crack running along the crystal’s surface.

“Duh. How else am I supposed to see if my loved ones on Earth are okay? I miss them very much. Plus, I really am broke right now.”

Tirred paused. There were rumors of some Saints and Winners wondering what happened with their remaining families in Hell and on Earth. For those in Hazbin Heaven, most were so bedazzled by the golden perfection, they had no idea of how humans got into Hazbin Heaven nor of their memory erasures and the elder angel council keeping things under wraps. Their Sinner ex-family members practically did not exist to them anymore.

Tirred wasn’t sure if the fox’s sorrowful tale was true or not, but he wasn’t going to stick around and find out.

“Here’s a deal for ya, how about you leave me alone and I won’t report you to Michael’s police armada in Charity?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Tirred bellowed. “Fox thief over here! This crystal’s not registered in his name!”

“F**k!” The fox swore and darted away like a coward.

Tirred smirked. “Just as I thought.” He grinned as he rubbed the crystal, now attached to his wrist. He didn’t have time to try and register the crystal, he had other matters to attend.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, rubbing harder.

After a few minutes, a pink energy diamond with a hole flickered and appeared before him. He walked through and it soon closed.

“A glitchy crystal…well at least it’s better than nothing.”

0 0 0

Tirred tumbled through the portal and ended up inside a large building with a strange symbol on one wall, a black C within an upward blue triangle.

From a control panel, two people in white business suits turned around and glanced at him.

Tirred blinked. One was a man with dark skin and short blonde hair. The other was a woman with white skin with curly black short hair.

“Wait a minute, I’ve seen you guys before,” said Tirred.

Negative Agent One, the man, peered at Tirred. “An elf angel? How’d you get in here?”

“You’re the one working for those D.H.O.R.K.S!” spat Negative Agent Two.

Tirred gasped. “C.H.A.R.M.E.R.S? N-no!” said Tirred. “We only sided with them because you guys attacked us.”

“Listen,” said Negative Agent One, “We may have been bullies to them in the past, but those nerds are dangerous. Tell us about them and we may just let you go.”

“Well for one,” Tirred folded his arms, “D.H.O.R.K.S. are not creating an army of cloned priests to invade Hazbin Hell…uh…shit…”

Tirred flinched and covered his mouth. The C.H.A.R.M.E.R.S agents looked at each other.

“Well leave it to them to do something crazy like that,” remarked Negative Agent Two.

“Them and those cheesy fallen cherub angels, they’ll do anything to get back into Heaven, even if it puts demons and humans in harm’s way. I gotta say, though, anything to get rid of demons is fine by me.”

“How do you know all this?” asked Negative Agent One.

“Those cherubs created a portal to our Heaven in an attempt to get back to theirs. I saw the priests being grown in the lab. Me and my crew tried to make them see reason but…we got sent back.”

“Wow,” Negative Agent Two breathed.

“I don’t like demons either,” said Negative Agent One, “but maybe we could work with antagonists of those cherubs…”

“D.I.A.B.L.O.? Trust me, no way. Those abominations want to see all the realms at war!”

“I see,” said Negative Agent Two. Then she grinned. “Well, you’ve been a big help, little angel. How about you bring your crew over and work for us.”

Negative Agent One spoke. “We’ve created a portal to allow angels to come to Earth. Perhaps they can put an end to the cloned priests. Leave demon hunting to the celestial experts, ya know?”

“Anything to counteract those dorks,” added Negative Agent Two.

Tirred stepped back, laughing nervously. “J-just wanted to apologize for attacking you guys earlier. I’d love to stay and help, but I really have to go…”

He frantically rubbed the crystal.

Tirred stepped further back from the agents’ outstretched hands. Negative Agent One’s thoughts flooded into Tirred’s head. ‘Perhaps we could hold you here and wait for your friends to show up. You’ll help us put an end to those dorks and chaotic imps whether you want to or not!’

“S-sorry again, bye!” Tirred cried in fear. Thankfully, the portal glitched to life in front of him and he leaped through the opening.

“Come back here you little…” began Negative Agent Two before the agents vanished as the portal closed.

Tirred caught his breath, shaking all over. “W-what have I done?!”

Another pause.

“T-that was f**king close. Wait…I’m back in Heaven, aren’t I? I can’t swear!”

Tirred froze. ‘Let’s see…’ He waved his crystal and saw glimpses of different places through the holes.

‘Ellie seems to be doing alright,’ he observed. Ellie, the former convict on Earth, was flying around with some other angel kids, her former human parents now reunited with her.

Tirred called through the portal, “Hey, Ellie, sorry for being a jerk back at the E.L.F. office!”

Ellie turned around and spotted him. “Who are you, again?”

The portal closed before Tirred could answer. “Shoot!”

Through another portal, Tirred spied Mrs. Mayberry teaching little angel kids how to fly. Tirred made eye contact with Mary and her two kids, formerly humans.

“Hey, guys! Sorry about being mean and failing to save your lives on Earth!”

Mrs. Mayberry just smiled, and her kids just made silly faces at Tirred. “Oh, it’s quite alright! You were under a lot of stress. I’m still very thankful of your boss’ E.L.F. company, they are truly life savers…or afterlife savers I should say.”

Tirred sighed in relief.

“You wanna play with us?!” shouted the kids. The kids then looked at each other.

“I saw him first!”

“No, I did!”

“Did not!”

Thankfully the portal closed as well.

The next portal showed…

The grinning sharp teeth and glowing blue eyes of Bio-Rizz.

“Nope,” Tirred decided, facing away from the portal.

Kiva Perdera and Holly Wata sighed in annoyance as they did some menial tasks around Camael’s Corner. They spotted Tirred through the portal and glared.

Tirred was almost going to be the mature one…

…but instead, he laughed and spat, “Have fun, suckers!”

The cherub and the elf roared in anger, but the portal soon closed.

Tirred briefly spotted Soother talking with Menadel in Menadel’s office. On a piece of paper on the desk was, “Meet with Holly, Blau, and Kiva.”

The portal, of course, closed before Tirred could see any more.

And through another portal…

“No, no, no, no!” Tirred screamed as he dodged the grabbing hands of more C.H.A.R.M.E.R.S agents. “Why won’t these blasted portals work?!”

Thankfully, no more portals shimmered around him once he flew off further away.

Once Tirred got back to the office, Timmid, Docile, and Sunna were waiting for him.

“Oh heck, no, I’m not wearing that!” Tirred seethed. A clown costume with “Tirred�� on a note was lying on his work desk.

“You have no choice, Tir,” Docile smiled. “It’s what I decided, since you’d otherwise wear no costume at all! Or an Exorcist one.”

“But you’re not wearing one!”

“This is my costume! Me! Isn’t it great?”

“Since when did you become such a selfish prat?”

“Hey, it’s only once a year that I can push more pride up to the front,” Docile grinned. “Now I have my pose: the jester, the princess, and the goddess.”

“Why can’t you be the werewolf, like last year?” Tirred asked Sunna.

“We get to choose different ones. Besides, the clown costume fits you, perhaps even more than that old cowboy costume you chose!”

“Only because the store ran out of Exorcist costumes!”

“The last time you dressed up like an Exorcist, you actually wanted to sneak into Hell and kill demons that very day!” Docile remembered. “Man, your childhood programming has dome a num…”

“So has yours, now shut up, sir!” Tirred barked.

“No time to argue!” Timmid spoke up. “Tirred, get into your costume and meet us by the portal!”

“If you don’t show up, I swear Tirred, you’ll be filing and filling out every overdue paper for the next eternity!” Docile warned.

Tirred grabbed his costume and headed into the other room. From out the window, Docile drove the E.L.F. van through the portal that was created from his crystal. On the other side, many angels dressed in costumes cheered as they strolled by the van in a sort of parade for Docile. The angels carried more Docile merchandise, food, drinks, a stereo, and plenty of candy. Halloween music played as they headed toward a mansion on a hill at 777 North Maple Avenue. Several humans in costume cheered as well.

“Nice parade, guys!” they called.

“My colleagues, best for last!” Docile telepathically called to each of them after about ten minutes.

Timmid and Sunna stood in their costumes, holding a large banner that read, “Docile Answers Your Prayers!”

Tirred hovered in the air, flying from the open window, clown costume still in his hands.

Sunna looked up and hissed, “That’s your cue, Tirred! Hurry up!”

“Get that costume on before Docile sees!” Timmid added.

The two females walked through the portal.

‘I’ll just change into the costume on Earth,’ thought Tirred, ‘scare some mortals, and sleep through Docile’s speeches. And if he makes me announce him again…’

Suddenly, the hole before him glitched and blinked in and out.

“What is up with this thing?!” Tirred seethed as his crystal seemed to negatively interfere with Docile’s portal. To Tirred’s horror, he saw the backs of Sunna and Timmid’s heads before the portal closed where he landed!

“No!”

Tirred panted, eyes darting in fear. Docile was so gonna kill him for not making it on time!

Tirred took a breath. “Alright, crystal, work with me here…”

He rubbed it and noticed an even bigger crack than before.

“Please…just one more time…please take me to Earth…”

At last, a small hole appeared! Yes!

Tirred darted through it, flying through the night sky…and accidentally dropping his clown costume into a campfire below. Several guys flinched back as sparks and smoke flew in all directions.

“Alien!” one of them pointed at the screaming Tirred.

Tirred feared for his life…the fire coming closer and closer as he fell…but then he remembered that he was immune to mortal fire…and that would make those humans suspicious.

“To Docile, please!”

He rubbed the crystal again…

…flying through colorful clouds and spotting a sad Lute, Sera, and Exorcists mourning by a golden statue of their leader Adam.

“I regret to inform Heaven, that for the greater good, the Exterminations must continue,” said Sera somberly. “I wish Emily would understand…”

“Those demons will pay for what they’ve done!” Lute cried, holding up Adam’s golden guitar. “We will avenge his death and destroy that hotel once and for all! Demons can kiss redemption goodbye!”

Lute then spotted him and raised her spear…

“S**t!” Tirred cried.

He rubbed it again…

…narrowly avoiding the jaws of an eldritch monster in a watery world…

“Come on! To Earth, to Earth!” he screamed.

He rubbed the crystal as hard as he could…

…tumbling through the final hole and landing with a thud in a forest.

0 0 0 0 0

The world blurred in and out of focus. Very dizzy…pain throbbing in his head…

Tirred slowly sat up, groaning. “Owww…..”

The world came back into focus. He stood up on shaky legs and spotted many straight pine trees around him. An owl hooted ominously on a branch. Above him in the clear starry sky, a white full moon illuminated the sky. A few bats screeched and flapped their wings across the sky.

“It’s Halloween, alright,” Tirred said. “Shit, where am I?”

Tirred paused. “Shit, shit, shit…hey I’m on Earth, it worked.”

Tirred looked down at his wrist…and his heart almost stopped. The crystal was now broken. Several pink pieces glinted on the grassy ground. His wrist was bare.

“No, no, no,” Tirred breathed, trying in vain to put the pieces back together.

Now there was no turning back.

“Docile! Where are you?” Tirred called. A lone wolf howled in response.

Tirred shivered in the dark as he tried to make his way through the trees. Though he could see in the dark much better than humans, he still felt incredibly lost.

Tirred brushed himself off. His outfit and face were covered in dirt. A few twigs got stuck in his black hair.

He stretched his white wings, and they were still intact.

“I shouldn’t have taken that fox’s crystal. Now I’m stuck in this pathetic Earth world. What if I can’t get back to Heaven? I don’t think I can stomach doing mortal jobs or eating mortal foods, gross…”

He brushed aside pine branches, trying to find any hint of a town or houses.

“Maybe if I die here, I’ll reappear back in Heaven. But then, I wouldn’t be able to go back to Earth…and I heard that dying many times can do a great damage on the body and…”

“RRRAAAGHH!” echoed a voice in the distance.

“Mind…” Tirred breathed softly, feeling goosebumps on his skin. Normally he wasn’t terrified of anything…but this night seemed especially unnerving. Even his wings felt too sore for him to lift.

Thankfully, Tirred had packed a holy knife with him.

“Great, now I get to kill a wild bear. Maybe Samael will be semi-impressed this time.”

The sound of heavy breathing rose up, darting through the forest. A shadow whizzed past.

Tirred feared he’d never see Timmid or his friends again.

Tirred’s eyes darted around. He wasn’t ready to become a bear’s meal. He had to get back to E.L.F. He moved quicker, maneuvering around the trees and nearly tripping over a log. Several crows cawed and flapped their wings as Tirred pressed onward.

After what felt like forever, Tirred finally came to a clearing. He looked ahead from behind a bush. There was a suburban neighborhood of houses, covered with Halloween decorations. Trick-or-treaters were out and about, munching on candy, tossing toilet paper into trees, lighting jack-o-lanterns and happily posing for selfies.

‘Guess I won’t need any disguise then,’ Tirred thought as he carefully stepped out onto the asphalt street.

Right away, there were two things that froze him with fear to the spot. One was the green and white street signs, one which read “666 South Maple Avenue.”

The other was a hunched figure several feet away to his left. The figure growled and stared straight ahead.

Tirred quietly stepped back, hoping the figure would not look his…

“BLITZO! DIE!”

Glowing eyes bore into Tirred’s soul, and the creature leapt right at him with an open mouth of sharp teeth.

0 0 0

Meanwhile at 777 North Maple Avenue, the Docile Halloween party was in full swing. Spotlights glowed green, teal, and blue, as they swayed back and forth near the mansion. The mansion looked very similar to the one where Verosika’s party was hosted, except the windows were tinted teal and there was no liter on the lawn. Candles lined the stairs and a blue banner hung over the front door: “WE LOVE DOCILE, OUR HEAVENLY BOSS!”

Sully Serious was selling t-shirts with “LUV DOCILE,” “DOCILE DA GOAT,” “DOCILE FTW,” “E.L.F. ON THE SHELF!” and “DOCILE RULZ” on them with Docile’s smiling face.

Inside, Halloween music played, and angels of all kinds were dancing in Halloween costumes. There were costumes of vampires, monsters, ballerinas, ghosts, mummies, demons, and countless others. Many angels danced and wore shirts with “I LUV DOCILE,” “DOCILE DA BEST,” and “DOCILE PEACE 4 EVER” on them. Angels danced to “Thriller,” “Monster Mash,” “Spooky Scary Skeletons,” “This Is Halloween,” “Ghostbusters,” “Nightmare Night,” “I Put A Spell On You,” “Psycho Killer,” and even to Verosika’s “Over You.”

Several angels got drunk, but several gulps of nearby Holy Water sobered them up.

“Man, I wish we could help humans with this stuff,” one angel sighed, dressed like a pink succubus.

On a white tablecloth sat bottles of drinks from Haniel: Cloud Nine Wine, Bliss Booze, Holy Spirit, Throne’s Light, Jesus Juice, Blisskey Whiskey and Venusian Delights. Plus, there was apple cider, pumpkin juice and other non-alcoholic drinks. A magnificent cake was shaped like the white E.L.F. office, with “HAPPY DOCILE DAY!”  written in blue. On top was a figure of a smiling posing Docile wearing a blue cape and holding a golden cross in his hand.

Outside, angels flew around and played various games: bobbing for golden apples, “Pin the Tail on the Demon”, carving jack-o-lanterns, and having a pumpkin pie-eating contest.

Docile appeared on the outdoor stage, with Timmid, Sunna, and Veronica by his side. Even Portal, the white Heavencat showed up. The stage was decorated with strings of teal lights. The blue curtains had bats and black cats on it, along with “DOCILE RULES!” in bold white letters. Another sign read “EMPLOYER OF THE YEAR!” An angelic band was in the background. One member had a drum set with a halo design on the drum, one had a white guitar with a harp shape to it, and another had a golden guitar with angel wings as part of the design.

“Thank you all for coming,” Docile said. “As we celebrate another year of E.L.F. working hard to save mortals, and to celebrate…well its founder, me!”

The crowd clapped.

“I’d like to thank my colleagues, Tirred, Timmid, and Sunna for their hard work and unwavering loyalty!”

Sunna and Timmid posed on the stage and did a few flips as the audience cheered. Docile pulled Veronica, Sunna, and Timmid into a hug.

“Get all the ladies, Docile!” Someone hollered with a wolf whistle.

“Um, thanks, but I’m asexual,” Docile mentioned, stuttering slightly.

“Tirred’s running late again,” Docile muttered, changing the topic. “Apologies.”

Docile then smiled at Veronica. The band strummed as Docile sang a song about Docile and E.L.F.s’ accomplishments. (“Humanity’s Angel”) A teal spotlight shone on him as he sang into the microphone.

“Saints, Winners, Thrones, Powers, Cherubs, Seraphims,

Angels of all kinds,

As we sing and frolic in paradise

Let us not forget

Our loving and incredible brethren

Living in the world under our feet…”

“Demons?!” asked an angel in the back.

“No! Humans!” Docile said, taken aback, the microphone making feedback noises. “And…the former if they can prove themselves.”

“Oh.”

Docile cleared his throat and hummed the song. “Ooooooh, oooooooh…”

“Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na,

Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na.” harmonized Veronica, Timmid, and Sunna.

“Once I was lonely.

I didn’t know what to do.

Making my day

Toiling every day

Thought my dream would never come true.”

“But then I saw the light.

Determined to do what was right.

Go beyond expectations.

Trust my sensations

Began to help men of all nations.”

“Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na,

Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na.

“Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na,

Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na.”

“Heaven and Earth both intertwined

An eternal dance so sublime

Humans below are divine like us

Make mistakes, eat cakes, shine like us.”

“All worlds should be as one

Love and laugh under the same sun.

Helping all people I can be…someone,”

(“Someone, someone…”)

(“Someone, someone…”)

“Cherish every child of God

Every form of life you see

Don’t let anyone hold you back

From your own divinity.”

“I Docile, with a smile

Shall dedicate my life to our good for a while.

My accomplishments in a list to compile.

The bigots who try to bring those down, so vile

They won’t stand a chance

(Won’t stand a chance…)”

“Now I sing this with style…”

Angels happily waved glowsticks in the air.

“Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na,

Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na.”

“I love you all like sisters and brothers…”

“He’s humanity’s angel,” sang Veronica, Sunna, and Timmid.

“Devoted to wellbeing like fathers and mothers…”

“He’s humanity’s angel,” sang Veronica, Sunna, and Timmid.

“If you can’t be anything else, be an angel…”

“Be humanity’s angel,” sang the three.

“If you can’t be anything else, be an angel…”

“Be humanity’s angel.”

“Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na,

Humanity angel, na, na na, na na na.

“Docile, Docile, Docile, Docile, Docile!”

Docile bowed and the crowd stood up and applauded. “Thank you everyone! Let’s keep enjoying ourselves! May God bless us all!”

Sunna looked worried as Docile left the stage.  She spoke in a whisper. “Why hasn’t Tirred shown up, yet?”

Docile folded his arms. “He is supposed to be here. Even in a bad mood, he hasn’t missed a meeting. Probably running late on purpose again! He’s so not getting that raise!”

“Calm down, sir,” Sunna said. “He’s probably out pranking mortals again.”

Docile narrowed his eyes. “Of course! Just as I suspected. Bring him over.”

Sunna nodded and flew into the air. After several minutes, she rushed back down, worried.

“Sir! Tirred is in trouble!”

“In trouble with the mortals again? I’ll be sure to have a word…”

Sunna cupped his face. “No. Serious trouble. A demon has him!”

Docile’s blood turned cold. “What?!”

0 0 0

Tirred was pinned to the ground, and a deranged figure was cackling above him.

Tirred looked up at the monster. He was dressed like a cowboy and wore tall black boots with red trim, torn white pants, a light gray jacket covering a navy-blue undershirt, and a red bandana around his neck. His long, pointed tail hissed like a rattlesnake and was covered with spikes and black stripes. He had white hair, jagged horns with black and white stripes and hypnotic eyes that glowed yellow. He had two small black hairs on either side that made a thin mustache from his pointed nose.

Striker.

Striker’s face and skin, once a tannish color, were now covered in painful white spots and scars from where the green fire burned him in the Greed Ring. His clothes were also worn and covered with black spots and holes.

Striker then paused. “Wait, you’re not Blitzo.” He grinned evilly. “Here to have me finish you off, Moxxie?”

“Moxxie?! I’m not…”

Tirred yelped as Striker dug into his white wings with his claws. Gold blood splattered. “You always were a weak little pussy. Blitzo could’ve done better without scum like ya!”

Tirred slapped Striker in the face and in response, Striker wrapped his tail around Tirred’s neck. Tirred struggled and waited for any human to notice. Instead, several kids casually filmed the fight with their cell phones.

“Blitzo will have no choice but to surrender to me and Crimson after he learns of your demise! I’ll be fucking rich!”

“Get off!” Tirred choked as he kneed Striker hard in the stomach. As Striker grimaced, Tirred bit his tail, causing him to let him go. Tirred slowly stood up at the same time as Striker. Black blood dripped from his tail, but just as quickly, it sprouted back intact.

“Filthy demon!” Tirred seethed, trying to hide his terror. He pulled out his holy knife with shaking hands.

“That the best you got?” Striker roared, kicking Tirred backwards. He fell to the ground and rolled to the right, barely avoiding Striker’s blessed-tipped knife. “I’ll cut your cheap wings off of ya!”

Tirred looked at the weapon with concern. How was a demon imp like him gaining access to a weapon that could kill any demon and any angel? If enough demons got such lucrative weapons, both Heavens would be in trouble…and maybe Earth as well…

“TELL ME WHERE BLITZO IS, MOXXIE!”

Tirred swiped at Striker with his knife, managing to slice off some of his white hair. He ran for his life as an angry Striker raced after him. Striker smashed pumpkins, knocked over candles and broke glass windows as he went. Little kids screamed and parents gasped as they carried the kids toward safety inside their homes.

With shaking arms, Tirred waved his staff in his other hand and magically put out the fires and repaired the windows.

But for every good deed, Striker inched closer. He held up one of his black pistols with angelic white light bands on it and fired it into the air. He laughed as more humans and kids screamed.

Just then, Tirred spotted the place he was looking for, the mansion where E.L.F. were hosting the party. He stretched out his wings, ready to fly…

“I’m done losin’ these fights!” Striker bellowed.

A strong kick to the back made Tirred gasp painfully for breath. He had fought demons a few times before, but this man was abnormally strong. He tumbled to the ground, Striker gripping his wrists.

“And after you’re gone, I’ll finish off Blitzo, and Stolas, AND EVERY FILTHY ROYAL THAT EXISTS IN HELL!”

Tirred managed to cut Striker on the arm with his knife, black blood dripping onto the blade. The imp seethed in pain, but only grew angrier. In response, Striker smacked Tirred’s head hard to the ground several times, causing black spots to dance across his vision. He could feel golden blood tricking down his cheek.

“Tirred! Tirred!”

Tirred paused and thought he heard the voices of Docile, Timmid and Sunna in the distance.

More children screaming and crying at the sight of Striker.

Striker turned around and spotted Timmid on the sidewalk, holding two kids dressed like devils with protective arms.

“But first…I think I’ll have a little MORTAL SNACK!”

The kids whimpered beside her, but Timmid held her ground in her princess outfit.

“S-scary goblin cowboy!” they cried. “Don’t eat us!”

Tirred forced open his eyes. Docile blocked Striker’s way, aiming his magic staff at him. With a swipe of his arm, the staff clanked out of Docile’s hands and rolled to the ground. A few punches and well-aimed kicks sent a stunned Docile off to the side.

The human kids screamed and ran in either direction as Striker jumped toward Timmid, knife posed and jaw open.

“NO!”

Timmid braced herself for the jaws of death…only to find someone teleporting in front of her…Tirred…

Tirred gasped as Striker sunk his teeth into his neck. The knife dug into his chest…

Timmid covered her mouth as Tirred tumbled to the ground. Golden blood spilled from his neck and chest. Striker chuckled evilly and raced off.

A wounded Tirred coughed on the ground. Timmid leaned over him.

“T-Tim,” Tirred said, gasping. “I-I’m sorry…”

“None of that,” Timmid said, as she and Docile placed their hands over him for healing.

“If I die…”

“You’re not going to,” Timmid assured. Light and energy hummed over Tirred.

“Timmid…I’ve wanted to tell you…I saw what you guys did…with the pumpkins. I’ve been such an ass all these years, always absorbed in myself and my issues. You, you don’t deserve someone like me…someone who’s stuck in thi…this war mindset all the time…I admire you…your beauty, your courage…how you’d never think twice about saving a human…or even a demon…”

Tears flowed down Timmid’s face. “Y-you saved my life. We may have gotten into fights, but we keep finding our way back together. And…despite you being a jerk, you never stop redeeming…I’ve missed you…”

“I-I-missed you too. D-d-don’t leave me…”

“I’m right here, Tirred, right here…”

And through the pain of the wound and the heat of the magic angelic energy pouring into him, Timmid’s soft kiss on his lips was the most sensational of all.

“Happy Halloween, Tim,” Tirred grinned, before his eyes rolled back and his head flopped to the side.

The light faded from their hands and the world was dark once more. The kids hurried back to their parents’ houses. No sound except the wind whistling through the red, yellow, and orange trees. Sunna appeared and lowered herself next to Timmid. Dark Halloween music played on a set of speakers outside a house.

Sunna spoke, “Is he…”

Docile waved a hand and the somber Halloween music stopped. “Of course not! He’s just unconscious. He’ll recover once we get him back to Heaven.”

Docile handed Tirred’s limp form to Sunna.

Docile then sighed. “Remind me never to host stupid parties like this again.” He waved his wrist and a portal back to the E.L.F. office appeared.

Sunna blinked in confusion but then turned around and walked through the portal. The portal closed after Sunna walked back through. Tirred’s Apology Tour was complete…for the moment.

Sunna then looked around with worry. “Where’s the demon?”

The three E.L.F. members looked on with horror as they rose up into the air. Striker was rushing and pouncing like an animal, up the street…

…straight toward the parked I.M.P. van with Blitzo inside!

Sunna gasped as she saw the mansion with pink spotlights where Verosika Mayday was hosting the anti-Blitzo party.

Sunna telepathically sent a message to the other angels, ‘Demonic intruder! One of my friends is down! Make sure he doesn’t crash the demon party next door!’

In flashes of light, several bi-pedal dove angels appeared before them. They were invisible to demons and humans, though could still be seen by the angels.

‘Oh no, the humans!’ thought Sunna.

The angels flew off around the neighborhood, watching over the humans to make sure they were safe. The angels used their magic to ease away the scary thoughts that had plagued the humans earlier. The humans smiled as the angels waved their hands, restoring the human parties to normal.

“He’s going to kill that imp that everyone at that party hates!” cried Sunna.

“I bet they’d all love to see that!” Docile remarked.

“His name is Blitzo!” said Sunna.

“Who just happens to be my biggest rival,” Docile scoffed. “And now we’re saving him?!”

“Yep.”

“So…we defeat a demon and save dozens more?” asked Timmid.

“Exactly!” Sunna grinned. “We’ll have to send him back to Hell. Hazbin Hell. I bet he came through the portal following those other demons!”

Docile sighed. “This is why there’s still debate on letting demons on Earth. But whatever it takes to keep the humans safe, I’ll help.”

“How are we going to send the cowboy back?” asked Timmid. “It’ll take too long for our Camaelean crystals to create a portal to Hazbin Hell!”

Sunna’s eyes glowed as she spotted several succubi in the front yard, with Asmodean crystals on their wrists.

“I’ve got it!”

Sunna teleported to the mansion and ducked her head. The two succubi were talking, and the crystal was just within reach.

‘Easy, Sunna…almost…’ She reached out her paw and slowly grasped it in her claws…

“Hey, cat!”

Sunna yanked it off the demon’s wrist and the succubi turned. “What are you doing?!”

Sunna chuckled nervously; her invisibility had worn off.

“Give my crystal back, thief!”

Sunna flipped over in the air, waving the Asmodean crystal. The Lust Ring appeared. Docile waved his staff from the sidewalk, sending the succubi through the hole with invisible force. The portal closed.

“Docile!” Sunna called, tossing the Asmodean crystal through the air. It slowly flew and spun, Docile reaching up to grab it. His hand wrapped around it as he jumped into the air, his wings holding him up. He looked down and saw Striker about to burst through the van window toward a sullen Blitzo…

He zoomed down and waved it in front of Striker. Miraculously, the hole opened to the Greed Ring.

Striker roared in protest before he tumbled back into Hazbin Hell. The portal closed.

Docile panted and realized that there were several demons staring at him.

“Oh, heh, don’t mind me…just…practicing my tricks to show how much I hate Blitzo!”

A pause.

Another pause.

“Cool dude,” smiled an incubus. “Spread the Blitzo hate!”

Docile stepped back and breathed a sigh of relief with Sunna and Timmid.

“That was too fucking close,” Docile breathed.

“Ooooh, you just swore again!” Sunna gasped.

“He’s not in Heaven, it’s fine,” Timmid mentioned.

“I can’t believe we just saved the founder of our rival company!” Docile gripped his face. “And almost lost Tirred! Oh, my party was a disaster this year!”

Timmid let out a small smile. “I think it was kinda fun this time.”

Docile blinked. “Really?”

“I mean, we fought an actual demon…well, Tirred did…and we survived! E.L.F. is back again!”

“Yeah, we did it!” Sunna smiled, licking her paw and picking up a bottle of Beelzejuice.

“What do we do now?” Timmid asked.

“I, for one, would love to go searching for more catnip candy!” Sunna exclaimed. “Also, we need more selfies to post on my blog about the human world. It’s so fascinating to be here.”

“I think we need to check on Tirred first,” mentioned Timmid.

“Good point,” said Sunna. “Docile, are you ready to…?”

She paused. Docile froze in the act, holding several Blitzo hate t-shirts in his arms.

“Dad?! Did you seriously buy all those?!”

“What? I had to!” Docile shrugged. “Gotta let others in Heaven know how vile and dangerous that imp is!”

Sunna narrowed her eyes, paws on her hips. “And to think you claim to be accepting of all races! We’re going back, now!”

Sunna dragged her adoptive father through the portal, Timmid following.

Docile protested as his colleagues dragged him through. “Wait, Sunny! I really wanna sing with Verosika about my hateful feelings about Blitzoooo!” The portal closed behind them. After Docile recovered, he put the pink Camaelean crystal and the orange Asmodean crystal in a safe spot in his office.

Tirred woke up and found himself in his bed with a smiling Docie, Sunna, and Timmid by his side. There was a banner on the wall which read, “Tirred The Hero!”

Tirred briefly thought he was in a dream. He showed a small smile. “What’s all this?”

Docile grinned. “We��figured it be about time you got some true recognition. I…haven’t really been appreciating you guys enough, so…congrats Tirred. Thanks for saving us.”

“Yeah…if you hadn’t gotten that broken crystal…” Timmid began. “Who knows what might have happened.”

Tirred smiled. “Wow…guys…I don’t know what to say…uh…”

“Say that I’ll give you that raise and go enjoy yourself.” Docile folded his hands together. “I’m sorry, too…for not trusting in you more, Tir.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tirred said, happy tears in his eyes. Timmid gave him a gentle hug.

“See, Tirred? You don’t need to go off searching for your destiny or family. You have one…right here.”

Tirred leaned down and bit into a delicious brown cake on a plate.

 “Mmm…delicious. Angel food cake again?”

“Devil’s food cake,” Docile grinned and winked. “I know it’s not allowed but…it’s Halloween and it’s Docile day…I can make exceptions.”

Soon, all the E.L.F. members were enjoying the Devil’s food cake, bonding and recovering from the experience.

“Say, Docile,” Tirred grinned. “Wanna prank some humans at a haunted house next year?”

Docile winked. “Who said anything about next year?”

To Tirred’s delight, about an hour later, all four angels found themselves back on Earth at a haunted house. They roared at the touring teens and kids with their natural dark teal elf faces and sharp teeth. Many of the mortals screamed, then laughed.

“Great costumes, guys!” they praised, handing out candy. The angels stuffed their faces rather un-holy-like.

“Say, we should do this ‘pranking mortals thing’ more often,” Docile smiled as the people left.

“Who are you and what have you done with Docile?” Timmid laughed, chocolate around her mouth.

“Still,” said Sunna, “I think we should give worthy mortals a blessing and allow their loved ones in spirit to visit them.”

“Wholeheartedly agree,” said Docile. “Though perhaps it should include everyone, not just the worthy.”

“Yes. In both Heaven and Hell!” said Timmid, hope in her eyes.

Docile paused. “Still working on the ‘Hell,’ part.” He posed with a grin, eyes appearing on his white angel wings.

“Alright, gang,” he called, eyes glowing, voice turning angelic. “Let’s give some humans an awakening!”

They happily burst through the castle-like roof and into the air, morphing into their higher angelic forms, letting out eerie choir-sounding yells and zooming off in silhouettes against the full moon.

[theshelbyclan]

Defiance

Summary: When your brothers went off to war, you couldn’t just sit and wait for them: you had to work, so as nurse Shelby, you started nursing in London

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)

A/N: Anon requested: Hello, I saw that you write Shelby sister imagines? Is it ok for you to do me one please? I always imagine her being the same age as John and very close to Tommy. I was thinking along the lines of when the boys go to war she goes to a hospital in London dealing with soliders who need rehabilitation and help with PTSD. She doesn't come home until a year after the boys? Here's they are in trouble with Campbell and Billy Kimber Obviously take it wherever you like to I'm happy for whatever x I’m making this a two-part story, to be able to combine two different requests that had a lot of similarities. I’m using your request for the first part, and let me just say, this is such a beautiful idea that it deserves to be a film on its own. Hope I did it justice! :) Part 2 is Acceptance 

Warning: mentions of death, war and suicide.

Words: 3107

***

“I will not,” defiantly you stood in front of your superior, arms crossed in front of you and a rebellious scowl on your face. “Excuse me?” the head nurse turned around to face you, “This again, nurse Shelby?”

For a moment, you faltered. Going against a senior nurse was something that wasn’t tolerated, at all. And with good reason! The hospital wouldn’t be able to function properly. During the war, it’d been constant chaos, with men coming in and going out constantly. Dying was often a blessing, and there had been so much, so much death. But the war was over and still the men kept on coming.

“I’m not trying to rebel, nurse Miller,” you said, more meekly this time, “I just don’t see how this is going to help any of them.” “Doctor says it works,” nurse Miller replied matter-of-factly. “But does it?” some fire was coming back into you, “They are able to talk and walk again, sure, but that’s not the same as recovery, is it? The problem is not of a physical nature, it’s a mental struggle these men face.” The head nurse looked up from her work and turned fully towards you now, “Remember your place, nurse Shelby. Do as you’re told. Go on, off with you.” “What research has really been done concerning these…” you waved your hand in an annoyed manner, “methodsthat the doctors employ these days!” Thoroughly irritated now, nurse Miller dropped her work and one look told you all you needed to know: you were in trouble. Again. And so you were back to scrubbing bedpans yet again. All nurses were required to do this work and the long days without much sleep had hardened you all to the blood and filth. Still, some nurses were given this job more than others. Especially the nurses who couldn’t control their mouths around their superiors. Silently, you cursed your Shelby spirit.

But then your mind drifted off to the subject you had been discussing with nurse Miller and your blood began to boil again. ‘The soldier’s heart’, that’s what they used to called it. These were the men who could never sit still, felt anxious all the time and were constantly on edge. It had been considered a ‘normal’ condition for decennia, but it had taken on the form of an epidemic after the Great War. Brave men could no longer function and the severe psychological trauma haunted most of them still, even though the war had been over for several months now! ‘Shell-shock’ was now the popular term and doctors everywhere tried to fix the physical symptoms of the condition. You simply couldn’t fathom how none of them seemed to acknowledge that these were just symptoms: the real problem had taken root in the brain or the heart, maybe even in the soul.

“What did you do this time?” Daisy, or nurse Wells as was the proper term, asked you, when she saw you sitting on your knees in front of piles and piles of bedpans. You looked up and grinned sheepishly, “I disagreed with nurse Miller.” 

“Again.” “Again,” you admitted contritely. Daisy put down the towels she had taken in for washing, “If you’re going to disagree with anyone, choose someone less uptight! Might save your knees.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Daisy was the perfect nurse: she could function on two hours of sleep a night, see the most horrific stuff and still work on tirelessly, while aiming to make the others smile. Where you’d be without Daisy you didn’t even dare think about. “Alright,” she sighed good-naturedly, “Tell me. What did you argue this time? And tell me you’re sorry afterwards, just to practise!” Full of anger, you threw down the brush, “Electro-shock therapy doesn’t fucking help anyone! These men went to hell and back and now their brains are protesting against all the horrors they witnessed. Their minds are revolting, as they should be! The only thing ever accomplished by shocking the men into talking again or walking again is that you’ve taken away their last manner of protesting against inhumane practises. Bravo! You’ve made them into full human bombshells now, without a peep of opposition. How in the fuck is that even medically sound!?” Daisy waited a moment, “So you’re not actually sorry.” “Fuck, no.”

She looked around the door for a second and then whispered, “Fuck.” Your head shot up and you grinned broadly, “Nurse Wells, what did you just say?” “I suddenly felt brave,” she shrugged a little, “thought I might be brave enough to say the F-word, with just you here to hear me.” Full of theatrics you stood up and offered her your hand, “I congratulate you earnestly. You have now crossed a line. Welcome to the fucking party!” Beaming, Daisy tried to scold, “You’re a bad influence on me.” “You should see the rest of the Shelby clan,” and a sudden pang went through you the very moment you had spoken the words. Your friend noticed at once, “Y/N, when are you going back?” “Can’t abandon the men now,” you said briskly, leaving very little room for discussion. Daisy hesitated and finally asked, “They did all come back from France, didn’t they?” “Yes.” “When did you hear?” Scrubbing again, you replied, “I never heard, but I’d know if something had happened to them.” Daisy nodded: she knew you well enough to know your instincts never failed you, even if it got you in trouble. A lot.

***

You were lying in bed and even though the shifts weren’t as long as they’d been during the war, sleep was still scarce. Many of you got five to six hours of sleep now, which had been unimaginable during the war! Still, exhaustion wasn’t unfamiliar to any of you and when the nurses hit their pillows, they often slept at once. Still, you were wide-awake at this very moment. When the war started, it didn’t take long for the boys to sign up. Your brothers went, full of energy and bravery and all women were left grieving at home. Ada kept her mind off it, something you were never good at. You couldn’t bear the thought of all these men dying out at the front, and for what? No one seemed to know. But aunt Polly had really send you over the edge. Every morning she got up to pray and at first you had joined her, but unrest had grown inside of you and praying simply wasn’t enough anymore. So, just like your brothers, you had decided and left for training in London. There was no arguing with you and no one tried.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the things you’d seen during your time here as a nurse. The broken men, shattered limbs, blood and gore and death were easy enough to get used to. That thought alone made you frown in confusion: what has become of us, that we think that’s the easy part? But the endless streams of young men, hopeful men once, now broken and shattered like the fields of France themselves, that was the hard part. You fed them, nursed them, mended them, talked to them and held their hand if they went. And each and every face changed the moment just before they died: they were all one of your brothers. They were still alive. Aunt Polly had the gift of second sight and even though you weren’t sure what to believe, you had some of it too. Either way, you would’ve known if they were dead. But what were they like now? Because that was the real reason you daren’t go back to Small Heath. What is they were like some of these men, like ghosts trapped in the body of a once healthy human being? You wouldn’t be able to cope.

People always said that twins have a certain connection. You and John had never noticed anything of a special connection, apart from a certain gift for squabbling. But once he was at the front, when the bombs started falling, you could hear his screams in your mind. That’s when the connection had suddenly kicked in and it kept you up and made you tear your hair out for fear. God was cruel like that. “Are you a Shelby or not?” you suddenly whispered strictly to yourself. “Who is this, cowering away in London and fearing what she might see at home? Be a grownup and fucking face your family!” But something just stopped you.

***

For the next couple of weeks, you tried to get back into the swing of things. You worked harder than ever, with your exhaustion as a form of atonement. Daisy was worried and even nurse Miller told you to slow down at some point.

And then you sat next to a bed of a dying soldier. Your shift had finished already, but still you’d refused to leave him. And why? Because he reminded you of Arthur. “Nurse?” he asked feebly. You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts roaming about, “I’m here,” you comforted him. “I can’t see,” he said, “Is that normal?” You took his hand, “I’m right here. Can you feel my hand?” He grabbed it a little tighter, “Yes. You have soft hands.” You smiled warmly at him. He asked again, “Nurse?” “Yes.” “When I get better,” he tried to sit up a little, “Can I maybe take you out some time?” He sure as hell wasn’t the first one to ask, so his request didn’t embarrass or shock you in the slightest. You tried to put on a chipper voice, imitating Daisy, “I don’t know. It depends, I suppose: where would we go?” The wounded soldier smiled, “I can take you to the movies. That’s what the Americans call it, did you know? The movies…” You couldn’t help but smile, “Which film would we go to?” “I’ll take you to that new romantic film, the one with that famous American actor.” “You quite like the Americans, don’t you?” you joked. He smiled again, suddenly revealing how handsome he actually was, “Americans, they have a way with women.” “So do you!” “Does that mean you’ll go with me?”

“When you get better, we’ll go to the movies,” you confirmed. But he didn’t get better. The next day, he was back to his ailing and screaming. The trouble with his mind was that sometimes the fragments seemed to recompose again and he was as sane as any man, but at other times, the war bombed his soul. His physical injuries were extensive and his chances of survival were slim. Still, the doctor was adamant on trying shock therapy on him, thinking it might help with both his physical and psychological ailments. You didn’t agree, but kept your mouth shut for once. Still, you screamed into your pillow the next night, feeling so fucking helpless at the sight of pointless suffering. The next morning, nurse Miller send you over to that soldier once again to change his bandages. All light had left his eyes. Practically inaudibly, he said, “Nurse?” “I’m here,” you took his hand again in yours. “Would you’ve done it? Would you’ve allowed me to take you out?” “Of course!” you exclaimed, “Not every day a handsome young man asks a girl like me out!” He paused for a moment, “Honestly?” “Honestly,” you said. Suddenly, he relaxed and fell back into the cushions. You frowned a little though, slightly worried about why he was no longer sure of his recovery. But there was more work to be done and you had to be on your way again. When nurse Miller told you he’d gotten hold of a razor somehow and killed himself in the night, something inside you shattered. That was it. You were done. ***

On the train to Birmingham, you couldn’t help but think about how much you’d changed. Once a Small Heath gypsy, being on edge about not being useful enough, you’d left full of innocence. Well, maybe not innocent, you were a Shelby after all. But you’d grown up being protected by young brothers, fighting them and others constantly, and still you considered your childhood a happy one. The amount of times you’d screamed at them, “I’m not a child anymore!” was insane, but only now you felt like that sentence was justified. The war had changed you too. Quickly, you’d send Aunt Polly a telegram before departing London. It said: ‘I’m coming home. Still alive. Make sure the boys save me some whiskey.’ She wouldn’t be pleased with a message like that, but you couldn’t wait to deal with the consequences again. Stepping off the train and back onto familiar ground felt like entering a dream. Oh, how you had missed the stench and noise! Without a thought, you took off your shoes and walked barefoot through the muddy streets. Watch out, Birmingham, you thought cheekily, the pauper princess is back! All nerve left you as soon as it’d come when you stood in front of your house at Watery Lane. And while you were still plucking up the courage to open the door, it swung wide open and nearly hit you square in the nose. A flash of green came rushing out and two arms squeezed the life out of you. “Where the hell have you been?” they demanded. Softly, you breathed in the smell of her perfume, “Fucking working, Ada, unlike you.” “Aunt Pol is going after you with the wooden spoon and I won’t lift a finger to save you,” she scolded, without letting go. You rolled your eyes into your sister’s hair. And then you suddenly noticed, “Looks like you’ve been busy as well!” Ada stepped back and looked down, “Seven months. Can’t even see my toes anymore, I’ve gotten so fat.” “Not much to look at anyways,” you commented. Ada slapped your shoulder and you winced. At least nothing had changed between you two.

With Aunt Polly it was an entirely different story. As soon as you walked into the house, she froze and fixed you with one of her stares that could make empires crumble. You could feel your shoulders slumping, your heart racing and you held your breath. Nothing had changed there either: it was like you were eight years old again. Slowly, she walked over to you and took a long hard look at you, never releasing eye contact. Then she grabbed your face and you almost winced, but instead she said, “You need to eat. Sit.”

Not hesitating, you obeyed at once. Without a word, she threw your telegram on the table. The silence was filled with anxiety-fuelled electricity and she let you calmly simmer in it for a few more moments. Then she spoke, “You have ten seconds to explain, before I slap you back to London myself.” So you took a big gulp of breath and explained, “I got into another fight with the head nurse and then everything went to shit and I didn’t know what to do, because I felt guilty, because he died and I fucking cannot with those doctors, because I knew work would be hard and I signed up for it, but all of a sudden I was just done, and I wanted to come back sooner, but I was scared Tommy and Arthur were dead and that John was, well I wanted to come sooner but didn’t know how to come back, and also I was you know scared that you might not take it well, and how I left, and yeah well, I was afraid this was going to happen…” “Leave her be,” Ada said to your aunt, “She’s worn out.” “It’s been eight months since the war ended,” Aunt Polly said, her face still not betraying any emotion, “We thought you were gone.” “I’m okay, Pol,” you said carefully. “How the fuck were we supposed to know?” She burst out, “No note, no letter, nothing. And now you think you can just show up, like the queen of fucking Birmingham, after writing some shitty telegram that made me drop my favourite teacup?” “Oh no, the blue one?” you asked. Ada glared at you, her eyes saying: not the right fucking response right now. So you cast your eyes downwards, “I’m sorry, Pol. The work, it just drags you in. I kept on seeing their faces in all the wounded soldiers I took care of. It was the only way I could cope.” Aunt Polly’s face softened a little, “It’s the waiting. The waiting almost killed the women.”

Images of wartime nightmares flashed in front of your eyes. Waiting was the thing you were terrible at, as it turned out. It ate you up inside, and now you’d done it to them. Finally, Aunt Polly’s reaction made sense.

“Forgive me,” you pleaded.

Your aunt walked over to the table and sat down next to you. She took your hand in hers and a wave of reassurance washed over you, “You’re like a working horse. They go crazy when they rest. You leaving shouldn’t have come as a surprise to us. It’s good to have you back. Welcome home, Y/N.”

No longer able to contain yourself, you flung yourself forwards and hugged your aunt. Tears fell from your eyes and finally, ease came over you.

Then you heard voices from the other room. Arthur’s voice first, loud and angry. He hadn’t changed much either then, perhaps a little angrier than before. Then Tommy’s reply, cold and business-like. He sounded like dad now. Finally your twin: John laughing like he was still playing in the gutter. For a few minutes, you didn’t move. You just listened to them and revelled in their sounds. These were the sounds of brothers, still alive, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

“Billy Kimber has a bloody army!” Arthur shouted.

You looked towards Ada for some kind of explanation, but she just rolled her eyes. Aunt Polly sat back and lit a cigarette. The fact that she gave that one to you, before lighting another for herself, showed she now thought of you as an adult as well. The moment was brief, but so intimate.

With a bang, the door slammed open en Arthur came storming in. Tommy was sighing deeply and still cursing right behind him, and through the open door you could see John. They all froze when they saw you, all at the same time, jaws practically hitting the floor.

“Billy Kimber, eh?” you merely said, “Looks like I showed up just in time.” 

***

Masterlist

[cystus-the-malignant]

Why do I play an asshole in D&D?

I once played an orc named Orrmug Spinesplitter, an impossibly stubborn person who believed the only way he could attain the blessing of Gruumsh, and solidify the legacy of his now genocided clan, was to be as brutal and over the top as possible, and attaining at all times higher and higher strength, as he only valued the strength of a man, growing up from age 14 alone, a hermit in the wilderness barely surviving until now, at the age of 24. He was the sole man left of a dead clan, and left, everywhere he went, reminders of his deeds, of tales of him as a spinesplitter, and that the spinesplitters were the best of clans. He'd slaughter, steal, burn, and put everyone in harm's way to ensure that the legend of his tribe was glorious and worthy of remembering. He was an orc, through and through, one haunted by his ancestors, ashamed that he, the boy meant to be made chieftan the next day, the boy who ran miles to warn of invaders, was told to hide under his den mother's hut, and had to stay awake through the night as he heard the screams of his people slowly fade away, and the embers of his burning house float through the floor and singe his skin, forced to stay quiet so he would live. He was a fucking orc that knew orcs never live long, and fewer still live to die of old age, and that meant his tale needed to be larger than that of an older person's. In his blind conviction, he was truly an uncaring and manipulative person who cared little for other's safety or livelihood, only if they would enhance his legend and make him stronger. He made it known with terrible ideas that normally would backfire, putting him in a position where he would demand the help of those he deemed weak, only fit to serve in his legacy as keeping him strong, and they grew tired of it. I kept telling them, having to shout at times, just wait, he gets better, he will develop, he's gonna learn, I promise. But they refused to believe, because in their eyes, even Gruumsh telling him he needed his allies changed little, but to Orrmug, it solidified that he needed them to ensure his tribe's legacy. Eventually, when we had captured a much nicer pirate vessel (we were sailors by trade looking for wish granting sea spirits) I, who had messed up multiple times in battle and had demanded help again and again purposely calling our healer water person because he was using a homebrew water based race, and i wanted to show how little they meant to him at that point, said after the session in the group chat that Orrmug would go about checking the supplies, and attempting to fix what he had broken (we had a tree golem homebrew race as well that had hurled me THROUGH the side of the ship, leaving a massive hole. They said, all he values is strength, why would he know boatwork, or to tally supplies, or to repair sails? We're shooing him off to be alone with himself I tried explaining that, because of the setting being so close to water, Orrmug would need to fish for food, and would need to know how to repair a ship, as well as ration supplies, even Orrmug told them this, indignant. I was trying to make him develop. They just said, we don't need a fool's help. Angry, I just spat back "fine, he'll leave you all, angry that you would not believe he would not try to fix his mistakes, and pray to Gruumsh for guidance." To which I was given "Let the little man talk to his gods and stow away with his thoughts, we will take care of this" and I lost it. One second they wanted him to change character, the next when I try to change, they utterly rebel against it. When I try to help, they want me gone because I don't know, when I do know they want me gone because they don't care. When I leave, they insult me for not being of any use. I just yelled and asked them what the fuck they wanted from me, and got so fed up I left the group. I was literally the only person not playing some combination of broken homebrew race and class, and was ostensibly the weakest power wise, regardless of having caster classes and being a barbarian AND an orc, because I actually hated the ease of the homebrew. The fucking tree golem, Ironbark could basically ignore up to like 27 damage and had like I don't know how much health at such a low level. Even IF the campaign was meant to be us becoming incredibly powerful, I was always the weakest. What did they expect from em? To be able to slaughter thousands in three turns because I'm fucking busted? To just have a perfect noblebright hero? I was so done with it, and I left. THAT'S why I play assholes, because so few people can even comprehend a character that "is a total piece of shit now and probably kicks puppies for fun, but will actually fucking grow over this potentially years spanning campaign instead of over two or three fucking sessions, that SOMEBODY needs to do it right.

You never play as someone morally irredeemable all the way through, they HAVE to become good people in some way by the end, or else you really are just a cunt. Orrmug was seen as nothing more than that, because in that group I had the least amount of experience, and they assumed I didn't know what I was doing, Orrmug was made with a redemption arc in mind, regardless of what it took, he would no longer be an eye of gruumsh by the end, but become a blade of ilneval, the flock leader, the warmaster, the tactician of gruumsh' unending fury. But I couldn't just spoil it all at the beginning, I had to RUSH his development when I started trying to help on the boat because I thought if I didn't change quick, they'd simply kick me out. I told them, against what i wanted to do and stay utterly silent, that he WOULD change, just so they would stop hounding me. But they refused to believe it even when i made effort to forcibly rush his character development to please them and not be kicked out for MY character who, while smacking people on the back of the head and screaming at them, would never attack someone he needed to stay strong, it would vicariously weaken him, he had close calls, but he never would intentionally hurt them, admittedly because it'd hurt him too, but the sentiment is the same. I got into bad situations, they could have killed me, one player died almost every session, making new characters wasn't anything new, but they'd come to Orrmugs aid when he demanded it. He was rude, selfish, verbally abusive and heavily racist against damn near every race that wasn't an orc, and went into a total black rage whenever he even SAW an elf, his pupils literally expanding to cover his whole eye, and me saying to the DM "I don't have control, can you please treat him now as a hostile NPC until either dead, unconscious, or the elf he saw is dead?" and he would accept, because the DM, unlike everyone else, got it, and helped orrmug along on his journey. I would sit back and read up on notes and such on certain small, but important beats i knew i could hit without any problem, and could hit regardless of any outcome excluding death. Orrmug would usually be incapacitated by the party, or if they were unlucky, they'd find him, two near pointy ears added to the rope tied around his midriff, and and a new left eye already petrified by the blessing of gruumsh to his necklace. He was so devoted he gathered left eyes for gruumsh, for that was the eye he lost, and they would also find strands of golden blonde hair tied into his ponytail, or wrapped into a new band around his arm, or even sewn into his horribly scarred left half of his face, a result of fights, self mutilation in Gruumsh' name, the embers, and a lack of medical care. The rest of the elf, save for its heart, often being eaten by him, would be a mess of blood and viscera splattered about and on him, with him recalling nothing from the moment he entered it, to the moment he finished the heart. He was deeply flawed, and the party, unlike the DM who found it refreshing that I was comparatively weaker than them while also being obsessed with strength to the point of my firs h wish being the curse of the werebear for the added strength, the party just saw him as my excuse to murderhobo, even when one of them had played with me before, with a character he loved. He just wouldn't see Orrmug any differently.