#but their execution was meh

[baeglbites]

Scars from Shibuya

[adverbally]

Full Disclosure

Written for the @stmarchmm prompt “bitching/studding” | wc: 1,431 | rated: M | cw: nonconsensual studding, parental abuse and neglect, anxiety and panic attacks, vomiting | tags: studded Alpha (formerly Omega) Steve, Alpha Eddie, Steddie, early relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

———

Eddie likes to think that he knows Steve pretty well after a couple months of courting, well enough to notice the odd things that form a pattern of behavior over time. He tries to dismiss them as quirks at first, or just a bad day, but it’s gotten to the point where he can’t ignore the red flags that are flapping in his face.

Like, maybe it makes sense that a big shot Alpha like Steve prefers to take the lead in their relationship. Even though Eddie is an Alpha, too, he doesn’t have much experience and he’s content to let Steve be his guide. So he lets Steve drive when they go somewhere together and open doors for him and press him against the wall to kiss him breathless.

He gets that Steve can be a little nervous, prefers to stay in control whenever possible. That’s why Eddie has only ever asked to fuck him once— the obvious discomfort and anxiety that had marred Steve’s face is burned into Eddie’s memory, and he remembers it every time he wants to suggest switching things up. There’s no point in pushing when Eddie is perfectly happy to let Steve fuck his brains out.

But the alarm bells really start to ring one afternoon in late August, when Steve comes to the trailer and has the worst panic attack Eddie has ever seen.

It’s not the first time he’s seen Steve like this, shaking and gasping for breath as he kneels in front of the toilet. There’s a certain routine to it by now, much like the one they use when Steve has a bad migraine. Eddie rubs his back while he heaves, talks to him softly, wets a washcloth to wipe the sweat and bile from his face. Steve usually comes back to himself within a few minutes, quieter and paler than before but still willing to enjoy some quiet time with Eddie.

Today, though, everything Eddie tries seems to make it worse. Steve is sobbing when he isn’t actively puking his guts out, and he physically flinches away when Eddie reaches out with the washcloth to help him clean up.

“Just go!” Steve shouts. The sound echoes since he’s still head-first in the toilet bowl, but Eddie can see his face in profile: eyes scrunched shut in misery, sucking in air through his clenched teeth.

It stings but Eddie obeys, even if he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He slinks back to the kitchen, not wanting to go too far in case Steve suddenly needs him again. There are a few dishes to be done, the remains of his lunch to clean up, just enough to keep him busy. He’s just wiping down the countertop, cleaning up any remaining juice from the peach he scarfed down earlier, when Steve shuffles out of the bathroom.

“Can we, um.��� He scrubs a hand over his mouth. “Talk outside?”

“Yeah, of course,” he agrees, drying his hands on a dish towel before following Steve out the door.

In the warm afternoon sun, Steve looks awful. His face is pale and waxy, the hair at his temples damp with sweat, and he’s swallowing hard every so often, like he’s still choking down nausea. When he sits on the front steps, he drops like his strings have been cut.

Eddie sits beside him, moving slowly enough for Steve to stop him if he doesn’t want him that close.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Steve begins, kicking the toe of his sneaker into the dirt.

“I get it. You were feeling shitty and I was making it worse.” He wonders if Steve can hear the unspoken question between the lines: what did I do?

Steve nods, still not looking up from his feet. “I have something to tell you. Something nobody else knows, not even Robin. It’s… I don’t know how to say it, really, but I’m gonna try because I think I owe you an explanation.”

Dread settles in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. If this is something that Robin doesn’t know, it must be seriously bad. Like, forced into an arranged marriage, dying of some crazy disease, apocalypse-level bad. But he can hear Steve take a deep breath, steadying himself before he dives in, so he stays quiet and listens.

“I presented the summer before junior year. My heat was miserable. Like, I know they’re not fun for anyone but it was especially bad because I was alone. My parents were out of town so it was just me, trying to make a nest on my bedroom floor with any blanket I could find.”

Eddie’s heart breaks for him at the scene he pictures– Steve aching, sweating, crying, with nobody to help him through it. He can’t think about it too hard, though, because the implications of Steve having presented Omega, gone through his heat and everything, but being so confidently Alpha now…

As if reading Eddie’s mind, Steve continues. “Of course I couldn’t hide it from my parents once they got home. They could smell it all over me. My mom just cried, probably because she knew how my dad would react.” He pauses, shuts his eyes. “I don’t know how long he screamed at me. All that shit about how his only son couldn’t be an Omega, how this was just another mess of mine that he would have to clean up. Then he locked me in my room for two days.”

“Stevie,” Eddie whispers. He can’t help it, smelling the fear and anger coming off Steve as he relives his trauma. He needs to comfort him. Thankfully, Steve takes his hand when he offers it, squeezing Eddie’s palm with clammy fingers.

“He drove me to Chicago, to some clinic where he knew the chief of designation reassignment. I was there for a month. A whole month of hormone therapy and rehabilitation to ‘fix me,’” he sneers, ��turn me into the alpha my parents wanted.”

Now Eddie feels nauseous. “You were just a kid. Studding is… it can’t have been legal for them to do that, not to a minor who couldn’t consent.”

“Like they cared.” He huffs a humorless laugh. “My dad got what he paid for, didn’t he? Never mind that they basically had to torture me for weeks, pumping me full of drugs, suffocating me with my own slick, making me–” He cuts himself off suddenly, clapping his free hand over his mouth like he thinks he might be sick.

“Baby–”

“It was the peach from your lunch,” Steve confesses, voice trembling as he holds on to Eddie for dear life. “When I walked in, it was all I could smell. That's what I– my scent before, it was peaches. It was like being back there.” He sniffs and scrubs at his eyes. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

Frankly, Eddie wants to yell, too, at Steve’s shitbag parents, at everyone at that facility who hurt Steve, but that’s not going to help right now. Instead, he strokes his thumb across the back of Steve’s hand and murmurs, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Are you mad?”

Jesus. Eddie takes a breath. “I’m mad that that happened to you, but I’m not mad at you.”

Steve nods, still not looking at Eddie. “It felt like I was lying to you, you know? You were with me but you didn’t know. And I know you’re probably gonna say something about how it doesn’t matter to you whether I’m an Alpha or an Omega–”

“It does matter,” Eddie insists, “if it matters to you.”

“I don’t know yet. It’s taken me this long to tell someone, let alone figure out how to feel about it.” He shrugs. “I’m not unhappy as an Alpha but… well, who knows how I would’ve felt if I’d stayed an Omega. Maybe I would’ve hated it. But it should’ve been my decision, not theirs.”

Eddie squeezes his hand again. “Yeah, but you still have choices. If you wanted to, like, explore that part of you, try something new, I could help.” He thinks Steve gets his meaning, since a flush starts climbing up his neck. “But nothing has to change unless you want it to.”

With a deep sigh, Steve leans over to rest his head against Eddie’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

He rubs his cheek against the top of Steve’s head. Not his most subtle scent marking move but Steve needs the obvious reassurance right now. It’s gonna take time for him to heal from this, Eddie knows, and he’s gonna be there every step of the way.

[ef-1]

new enchanté!

Inspired by Tinashe's👇 viral merch:

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Headcanon - Overlords Attacked / Magical Virus?

Oh, this one would be so fun.

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

 Attack on the Overlords - Magical Virus

Brazen and unexpected, but immediately dismissed as silliness. 

(Striker involved? Because his plan was always to kill overlords)

----

They are at a meeting, something unusual to experience more than once a year usually post-extermination to discuss new territories and boundaries. The meeting is being held in a neutral location this time, given the recent information around angelic steel and the sheer fact Carmilla happens to have 90% of it in all the area. 

The building is well-warded, and technically contains a pocket dimension fuelled by all of the Overlords’ powers that they were meeting in. It was a fun little measure to ensure no one could lock everyone else away if all of them had control to some extent. The flashing whorl of different magic about the walls could get nauseating if you looked too closely, however. 

Perhaps that was where things started to go wrong. 

There was some level of tension, naturally, as always at these meetings… but at the same time a sickly tendril of complacency arose about the ankles of each and every overlord present. They had Won. They were in a place of their own making. They were Safe. Well, as safe as one can be in hell… but still, they were not as alert as they should be.

All the Vees had come this time, an interesting development. However, it was clear that they were simply making a point of force, and having a go at the Radio Demon.

“I can’t believe you’d even bo00000the333r to show up after being such a fucking coward!” Vox goads, grinning maniacally, claws digging into the table as he leered across at his rival. “Heard your freaky little maid actually took Adam out, bet that stings just as bad as your humiliating defeat you old timey FUCK!”

“Hmmm, yes I am quite proud of Niffty and her achievements. There never was a stain she couldn’t get out, and by golly was Adam a stain on all of humanity in life and death! Hahahhaa!” Alastor parries, Rosie joining in the laughter. 

“Stop deflecting you fucker, and face the fact that you ran away like the little bitch you are!” 

Alastor grinned, “Perhaps… but I could not help but note your absence on the field of play, picture box, except perhaps for your voyeuristic eyes swarming about. You accuse me of hiding in the shadows, and yet… that feels more apt for you and your cronies, does it not?”

“Voxxy, tell him how excited we got when you saw Adam penetrate him… hmmm?” 

Alastor fought to stop his ears from flattening. “Mmm, not the terminology I would use, my dear insectoid colleague, but I do understand the parlance of your profession would be hard to slip out of in more civilised surroundings.”

“Hah, hard. Like Vox when he thought you died…” Valentino snorted, and Velvette rolled her eyes before giving a half-hearted high five to the moth. 

“I do not know how you put up with their insufferable hijinks, Miss Velvette…” Alastor commiserates. 

“Trust me, sometimes I fuckin’ don’t either. But they’re good in bed, so for now it is what it is, innit?” 

“VEL!” / “Babydoll!”

Rosie’s hollow eyes glance between the trio, finally confirming something that was SURE to make the high tea at her emporium tomorrow quite aflutter with gossip.

Zeezi make the room shudder as she traipsed in, with Carmilla and Zestial close on her heels. Odette and Clara trailed their mother, clearly armed and trying hard not to look in any way on edge about not having full control of the layout.

“Greeting Sovereign Overlords of Hell and thank you for meeting again so soon after our last meeting. I see that we have not lost anyone in the previous Extermination, nor are there any new faces to bring up to speed, so we may get onto pressing business.”

“Oi, why’re you the one who gets to chair these meetings, pointy-shoes? Let someone else take a turn once in a while…” Velvette complains reflexively, her main intention being on trying to find the right angle to get proper signal for her phone in this liminal space.

Carmilla, with the patience of someone who has already raised two daughters, responded with a calm smile. “Overlord Velvette, would like to submit a request for a rotating roster for chairing of the meetings? It can easily be arranged. However, we will need assurances that all the requested parties will attend… which I understand is not always possible, given the chaotic nature of your joint industries.”

“Pfft, nah. I’m just sayin’, maybe you don’t need to be so uptight and in control all the time.”

Odette and Clara visibly stiffen, glaring daggers at Velvette. Carmilla’s expression remains oddly serene, as does that of Zestial as he seats himself beside her. 

“Your concern for my wellbeing is admirable, and I thank you. So, how about we move onto the pressing matters that have brought us all to the table today.”

She ignores the outraged spluttering of the outmanoeuvred Velvette.

Carmilla knows if she pushed it even a fraction more, the younger woman might accidentally call her ‘Mum’ in her next retort, that specific wheedling whine was so… familiar. Her eyes cut across to the trying-not-to-look-at-her flushed expressions of her own daughters, who were clearly flashing back to teen tantrums of their own. 

“Today we meet to discuss the new direction of Hell. That is to say, given that the Exorcist Army was so successfully repelled last week and the countdown has not yet resumed, there is a large question around what the future will look like in relation to our ongoing antagonistic relationship with Heaven. Overlord Alastor or Overlord Rosie, would either of you have any new information to share?”

“Thank you darling, I must say things went off quite splendidly!” Rosie chimes in, hands expressively accompanying her words. “My cannibals and cannibettes had just the most delightful time devouring the angels that those lovely people at the hotel downed for us, and we have such a surplus of divine meat it’ll last for decades in the freezers.

That reminds me, if anyone has time to fit in a little feasting, we’re hosting a banquet in my little town next week for everyone to show off their culinary experiments with the angelic flesh. Oh, it’ll be delicious!” 

There was a pause. “And don’t you worry, if that’s not your thing we will also have a few chimkin and vegetarian options. Promise!”

“Dear Charlotte has advised she intends to attend, Rosie, with the lovely Vagatha and the other hotel members.” Alastor advised, grinning at her in a genuine manner that sparkled in his eyes.

It could also, it must be said, have a little something to do with the horror in Vaggie and Lucifer’s faces when they’d been invited to a feast wherein Angel Wings were on the menu… which he had mentally filed away for later perusal and enjoyment.

“How… magnanimous of you. I am certain that there may be a few minutes in my schedule somewhere to attend, thank you for your gracious invitation.” 

“Here, here.” Alastor agrees. His fingers tap the table in an odd little rhythm that catches Vox’s attention. “Well, in terms of an update I would heartily agree that Heaven has realised they are not so invulnerable as previously thought… and that has left them quite paralysed in shock. Both the Princess and King have attempted to reach out to Heaven individually, and received limited answers; polite platitudes if you will. It appears those above no longer wish to draw ire or attention to themselves under the circumstances… hahahahahaaa!” 

“Most assuredly, the Heavenly hosts were most severely rebuffed upon their entry to our realm. Victorious, our reigns remain.” Zestial enthuses.

“Okay, but now what?” Velvette jumps in, watching Vox’s eye twitching as he seems to be decoding something. Valentino exhales a stream of heart-shaped smoke and pets her arm soothingly. “I mean, let’s face facts… those fuckers have been getting away with this for ages and one lost battle ain’t just gonna be enough for ‘em to call it quits, yeah? What d’you think they’re planning?”

“An excellent question, my fashion-forward friend! Just imagine the fear the angels feel now that their avenue of annual entertainment has been annihilated, it only raises the stakes. Why, I suspect more than a few of the heavenly court our dear Princess faced off against are practically moulting themselves over the idea that sinner ranks may once more swell to the populace last seen when the last proactive royal attempted to counter them.” Alastor interjects, grin becoming sharper as the shadows deepened.

“Which is precisely why we need to plan for the potential responses we shall receive from above. Even if no one takes the opportunity to rebel as Queen Lillith once did, it will likely be a thought closely bound to the minds of those ruling Heaven… we must prepare on the off-chance that there is a more... punitive response.” Carmilla advised.

“Hmm, well I would absolutely agree with that, Overlord Carmilla!” Vox slid his way into the conversation, all schmooze and practised business speak. “As we’ve previously mentioned, VoxTech is working on a new brand of Angelic Security options for you and your family, however I’m thinking that this little venture may go a little faster and smoother if our industries were to collaborate to get these products out and about before Heaven gets it in their stuck up little heads to-... YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

Vox’s tone fritzes as he hurls a bolt of lightning across the table at Alastor, whose fingertips stilled against the table. The other leans to the side and avoids catching electricity to the face, expression delighted. 

“Why my dear Picturebox, whatever could you be referring to?” 

“Oh you FUCKE-...YOU KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!”

“Wha-... oh for fuck’s sake, Vox, let it go already. Ain’t like you two never said that shit to one another before when fighting…”

“W-...wait, you know morse code, Vel?”

“Course I bloody do. It’s the basis for a lot of coding, and you know how good I am at that little techno language… hmmm?” There was a concerningly sexual lilt to that statement that made the TV’s screen flare for a second. “And you, you grinning anachronism, stop goading my idiot ‘cause I’m the one who has to deal with him after you two do that whole… flirty fighting nonsense.” She waved a flippant hand as static screeched in response.

Rosie was laughing at the absolute disgust Alastor was expressing.

“Oh deer… she’s got your number, haha!” 

Valentino grinned salaciously over the table at the Radio Demon, and some of that noxiously vivid smoke dared trail over to touch him. Alastor’s shade loomed up from behind the moth’s chair, fingers out to-...

“ENOUGH!” Carmilla called, snapping the meeting back to order.

“Aww, it was just getting good…” Zeezi muttered to the overlord to her left, some guy with a flaming blue skull and a name no one could recall. “Spoilsport.”

“Yes yes, indeed. Let us set aside such PETTY differences… and focus. If possible.”

“Big talk from the person who shut down the last meeting when dolly over there got a bit up in your business…” Zeezi prods, needling at the other.

Carmilla sighed. “That is quite true, unfortunately. My conduct was not appropriate… however, in the efforts to better manage these meetings, I ask that personal grudges and any… flirting… take place outside these walls.” 

“So, what’re we going to do, then?” Valentino asks, bored of the whole thing and already tapping away at some sort of game on a Vpad produced from who knows where in that gaudy coat. The sound was a little high and the continued high pitched trilling pop of whatever he was doing was irritating more than a few present. 

Alastor reached out to the airwaves and turned the volume down, shuddering at the sensation of dealing with the technology, but his ears stopped stinging all the same, so it was worth it.

“Why, teach your thralls to fight properly and bargain with the lethally lovely Overlord Carmilla for support to arm them, of course! We’ll give those angels what-for when they get back here!”

“And that’s where our Angelic Security products come into it!” Vox jumps back into the conversation. “Yes, we can meet individually with you or as a group at a later date to discuss options for each and every one of your territories, down to the last thrall’s residence. Let’s get everyone ready to face off against the threat, and make sure those feathered FUCKS have nowhere to hide when they inevitably bustle back down here.” 

More than a few of the other Overlords were nodding in interest, including Rosie, much to Alastor’s horror. To think of even greater surveillance across the entire ring was… horrifying, he felt his gorge rise… but what could he say to counter such an offer? 

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but remains silent. 

“An intriguing proposal… I will also find time for a consultation with VoxTech Industries. Now, I open the floor to a discussion around any of the currently contested territories, disputes and if there are any up and coming potential overlords that we should be aware of.” 

“Yeah, I got a question for Zesty up there about some of his people setting up in one of my warehouses… I don’t like the looks of the light shows going on at night. You know if what they’re doing is any kind of danger to my people? Cause I don’t want that on my turf.” Zeezi asks, glancing down the table at the other.

“Many apologies, mine thralls have sourced your spacious building to complete alchemical experimentation of a most vexing nature. Nothing that should light the skies nor cause the flames of hell to writhe, thou hast mine assurances.”

“So it’s like… drugs? Or glowsticks or something?”

“More akin to potives for various purposes, health tonics and their opposite numbers. Hmmm, I hath made cert that all endeavours pose no risk to thine enterprise, peoples or the waters therein.”

“Ah, ‘kay… could’ve been more fun if it was drugs, just saying. Either way, we can negotiate some of that shit from you later, right? My guys’re rough and tumble, and they get too into it sometimes, so it might be helpful to have something vaguely medicinal around.”

“Verily, those in this room hath mine ear first and foremost for such wares.”

“Nice to know.”

“Would your people be open to assisting in production of Love Potion?” Valentino asked, missing entirely the flicker of distaste on the ancient overlord’s face. 

“Hmmm, such an endeavour wouldt not be within mine realms, as such a potive is intrinsic to thine enterprise, is it not?”

“Hmm, yeah I guess so.” Val shrugs multiple sets of shoulders. He’d lost interest after he got a general ‘no’ vibe from the elderly overlord. “Well, is that it? I got several people to do today…”

“Well, if there is no further business, I suppose that we can conclude this meeting. Overlord Rosie, my daughters and I look forwards to attending your event next week, and I would hope to see-...” Carmilla’s words cut off with a choked cry as chaos erupted throughout the room.

Rippling cracks filled the room simultaneously, as bullets flew in perfect precision to strike each and every Overlord through the skull with pinpoint accuracy. Some struck from the side, others from behind… and several through the forehead. Even Vox was not spared, his screen fracturing from impact as it rippled outwards from between his eyes.

Bodies slumped to the tabletop or out of their chairs depending on the directional force they received from the attack. Blood of varying colours coated the walls, the table, one another.

Odette and Clara screamed as their mother fell back into their arms, and they covered her with their bodies, weapons to hand as they prepared for a further assault that seemed imminent. And yet, never came.

As silently as it had begun, everything ceased, the only sound the harsh panting of the two warriors and the steady dripping of blood and gore off various surfaces. The room buckled slightly, wards shorting out due to the sudden loss of power fuelling them.

None noticed the tiny flares above of coin-sized portals closing amongst the whirling multitudes of magics present; the perfectly camouflaged vantage points for would-be assassins.

“What… what do we do?” Odette hisses at her sister.

“I don’t-... we need help, someone who won’t take advantage of this.” Of our mother. Of Zestial and the others. 

The children of Overlords were few and far between, but they knew that their ties protected and bound them to the others present as strongly as those same connections dissuaded harm.

Why, more than once another Overlord had casually stepped in to divert potential kidnappers from taking them in the early days… and made no real mention of it to their mother. It was simply… an unspoken little courtesy extended to them due to who they were.

In fact, the only one who probably understood that feeling was likely-...

Odette gasped, “The Princess!” 

Clara already had her phone out, shaking fingers encouraging a seldom-used number to ring…

“Please pick up, please pick up!”

Ch2 - etc

In hindsight, perhaps an activity involving so much glue, glitter and other confetti-like substances was not the most appropriate option given the current hotel staff and clientele.

Husk had it matted in his fur at this point and Niffty was driving everyone ballistic with her frequent attempts to clean up excess before it even reached the paper.

Angel had, unfortunately, decided the exercise was ridiculous and crafted a very detailed but wildly inappropriate veritable bouquet of demon dongs on his paper.

“Uh, Angel… I love the hmmm, the enthusiasm… however, we were supposed to be making art of things we…” Love. Ah, the flaw in that little statement just hit her. She laughed nervously, “Actually, that’s fine! I’m er, glad to see it’s just… that… and you didn’t draw any of the substances you normally talk about all the time. So that’s some progress!”

“Nah princess, I’m just not great at art or you woulda seen me draw a real detailed version of Whiskers, probably with a line or two to snort off’a his pert-...” 

“WELL NOW THIS LOOKS FUN, what’s happening in here?!” Lucifer’s voice rings out, cutting off the truly heinous sentence he just walked in on before his daughter turned any deeper red. She really needed to get better at shutting down sinners when they got vulgar but… that was a skill that came with time.

“Just a little exercise in creativity, we’re drawing what we love! Or, uh, trying to… Niffty, please stop eating that, it’s glue.” 

“Oh for the love of-...” Vaggie was there trying to wrangle it out of the hands of the smaller demoness. It was quite comical to see someone trying to avoid those sharp teeth and simultaneously remove the heaped handfuls of glitter-caked glue from the same mouth all at once. “Bad Niffty, you’ll get a stomach ache! Uh, what…er, what if you get too unwell to deal with the bugs? Then they’ll win, right?”

The little maid paused, arms and legs dangling as if all her energy had gone inward to thinking that over.

“Is that-... is she okay? Is this normal?” Lucifer found himself asking, perturbed by the blank stare. 

“Yeah. Give her a minute.” Husk adds, glancing over dismissively. 

Well, if anyone would know if something was wrong, it’d be the guy who worked alongside her for decades. 

“Okay!” the little thing brightened, dropping the glue to the floor and wriggling free to run off. However, she paused mid-turn and shuddered.

In a split second, three chains lit up the room without any prior warning and flickered. 

“What the FUCK, what the FUCK is happening?” Angel gasps, starting to breathe heavily. This wasn’t Val being a dick and calling him in, the other end of the chain was fading towards him right this second… disappearing. A tug was there, but it didn’t want his physical body, it wanted his essence.

“No! Sir!” Niffty cried, slouching to the floor as her energy was siphoned towards the rapidly disintegrating end of the chain. 

“What’s happening?” Charlie cried, eyes wide and hands twitching, unsure who to help first as Husk slumped forwards onto the crafting table, body twitching with the strain. 

And then her phone goes off.

A connection she didn't use often, but there’s a frantic daughter of an overlord on the phone who needs her Right Now, even if the exact nature of the issue isn’t easy to obtain due to the frantic sobs and heaving breaths on the other end.

“Stay calm, can you tell me where you are? Okay. Okay. We’ll be right there, it’s going to be okay.” she snaps the phone shut. “Dad! Someone attacked the Overlord meeting and they’re all dead!”

“WHAT?!”

“Please, can you portal us to the (make up location)? I need to-... Carmilla’s daughters are there alone in a room full of-... and Rosie and Al were there! Oh no!”

“Breathe, duckling, breathe. We can go. But what about your friends here?”

“We’re coming with you, just give me a sec…” Husk said gravely, head still on the table and one claw raised. “Fuck, this hasn’t happened in… years… got used to not being used as a fuckin’ battery. Alright, let’s do this.”

Angel shoved himself upright through will alone and stumbled towards the others. “If he’s dead-dead, I reserve the right to desecrate the corpse and no one gets to make a fuss about it. Capisce?”

“Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiir…” Niffty mewls, crawling up Vaggie’s leg to cling to her like a koala. 

“Alright, let’s go!” Lucifer snaps open a portal right through those cute little wards the overlords set up. Hey, he’s the King for a reason. 

Its a scene of devastation and carnage.

They’re dead. ALL Dead. 

Charlie runs over to Rosie and Alastor first, the former seems to have been caught through the side of the skull and the latter… well, unfortunately, it seems to have gone straight through the forehead. Hmmm, that might be a little triggering later on, she’d have to work on discussing that with-... oh, yeah. Fuck.

Neither showed any signs of life or afterlife or vitality or however they classed it here.

Clara and Odette were sobbing at the head of the table, each curled protectively around Carmilla or Zestial. 

Lucifer asks what happened. They have no answers, one minute it was fine and the next...

He uses his magic to fill the room to sense what went down, sees the portals. Tastes magic that is laced with Heavenly power but is native to hell somehow. Possibly from the use of blessing tipped weapons.

“Can you… heal them?”

“Duckling… they’re dead, but they’re not... fully gone, or your friends would be free right now, right?” Still the fact anyone got bold enough to kill or try to kill a dozen overlords at once was… concerning.

“Oh, so can we give them a uh, a little boost to help them wake up?”

“You can but… do you really want to waste it on these guys? They’ll regenerate soon enough.”

Charlie frowns at him, and gently provides some power to Rosie and Alastor, and when they begin to breathe again (even if morbidly slowly), she moves on. Moving to Carmilla and Zestial, to Zeezi, that weird skull guy, and then the Vees… she hesitates over Valentino, though.

“Oh no, I’m so… exhausted… I just can’t without rest…” she mumbles, making a show of swooning into Vaggie’s amused arms.

With a hiss, Alastor sits upright, the back of his head half-healed into its regular shape but the unsightly bullet hole in his forehead was leaking blood obscenely. However, he noted the awakening Rosie and immediately offered her his kerchief to manage the matted blood in her hair.

She handed her own back across and they laughed, swiping at the blood. They handed them back sticky with crimson gore.

“Deerling would you be offended if I made tea with the kerchief? Just for me of course.”

“Of course! I’d hate for it to go to waste!” 

Carmilla and Zest awaken, immediately pretending not to be worried for the other as if they weren't the worst kept secret in Hell, and then turned their attentions to Calra and Odette, who were BESIDE themselves with grief and joy.

The others Waking up, unsure why they hadn't been sent through a proper reset / reformation because a headshot would do that.

What happened? Who would DARE? Who could even do this? Most Goetia couldn't bust down a doorway held back with the power of multiple overlords. It was a matter of amassed might.

Odd. Unsettling in a way that made the King uncomfortable, as if he'd missed something. He plucks several of the bullets from the walls, floor and even tabletop where they'd been ejected post-regeneration.

They don't... smell of heaven, not directly. Which was good, because if they had even a trace of angelic steel in them, none of these sinners would be here right now.

So then, what was the point of it? To target an entire room, warded strongly enough to dissuade most under royal goetia level, of the top tier of sinners... only to use that one shot (so to speak) on a non-lethal delivery.

He wants to think its someone new to hell, someone who didn't realise nothing short of an angelic bullet would kill a sinner, an overlord. But that doesn't add up. New sinners wouldn't have the ability, the connections to do this, and older / experienced sinners would never take this risk unless they thought it was guaranteed.

So what was this all for?

He feels the answer tickling the edge of his infinite mind, clouded with years of roiling depression, trying to connect the dots for him. However, right now...? He was feeling twitchy about his daughter being anywhere near this place, wondering if these was an ambush likely.

Out of courtesy to the overlords he did recall and liked, he offered them portals home. The Vees declined, curling into Vox as he turned them to electricity and jumped into the outside powerlines.

Rosie stepped straight through a portal into the frantically yelling arms of Susan, who was berating her for needing to use her energy, all the while hugging Rosie with a desperate relief neither woman would ever be able to mention. The frightening woman pointed her walking stick through the portal menacingly at Alastor as well, stating she was glad to see his rudolph looking ass hadn't been annihilated either but how dare the pair of them worry cannibal town like that?!

Alastor was too stunned to retort before the portal closed. "...I believe that's the first time dear Susan hasn't threatened to skin me for a decorative rug... and then complained about how it would be oddly proportioned." he murmurs, blinking, and then has to deal with Niffty gluing herself to him and holding tight.

Lucifer immediately drags everyone back to the hotel, and throws up additional wards despite Alastor's protests that his were more than sufficient.

A touch cruelly, Lucifer retorts that clearly they weren't or he wouldn't have been shot in the head a second time, hmmm? And Charlie had to intervene to prevent the dad-off part 2 from starting all over again when they were both keyed up and anxious for different reasons.

She then made things worse by asking if Al wanted to talk about it? Because she knew it might have triggered thoughts of his death and-...

The overlord had JUST enough patience not to snap at her as the smile went taut. "My dear, do keep your new age nonsense to yourself, it's hardly the first time someone down here has tried that, I have a glowing X on my forehead... they do tend to aim for it..."

"Yes but, you were-... and ROSIE was-... if you want to talk about it, I'm here." She grasps his hands, and he looked like he wanted to recoil from the intensity of her care and compassion, which was bordering on the manic side at this point.

"No, as I said it's fine. And besides, it's hardly like the real thing... there were no dogs this time!" His laughter echoes as he fades into shadow, leaving Charlie perplexed and looking to Husk for an answer.

He chugs an entire bottle. "No, absolutely not, he'd kill me if I told you... just don't go bringing hellhounds here unexpectedly, he tends to not respond well. Last one ended up with limbs torn off... but Rosie sewed 'em back on and they got the guy sorted out."

"That's horrible!"

"Eh, death trauma gets us all a little weird, toots..." Angel intones, draped over the lounge seating like it was a risque photoshoot. "I still can't stand being in a dingy bathrooms with faint mint tiles and flickering bulbs. Sends me right into my own head..."

"Oh... is there... anything you need us to change about your room?" She's frantically thinking about what colour scheme his bathroom has, it had been a generic room to begin with before he went pinksplosion on the place.

"Nah, I'm good. There were some green tiles in there, forest green I think it was, but I asked Al to switch it to pink months ago... he made it pink and black, but said if it was all pink id never be able to work out distance from anything if i was hungover. Fucker was right."

Lucifer frowned, "And what little deal did that cost?"

Angel blinked. "Well, I offered to give him the daily special, four hands no questions asked, and he gave me this whack on the head with his microphone thing and laughed. Told me to save it for someone who cared for that sort of thing. Eh, his loss. But he did it cause that's what the facility manager does, right?"

"Hmmm, I really should have thought about what environment could do for our guests and their trauma. Hmmm, good feedback, Angel." she's working herself into a strategising mode.

Vaggie intercedes immediately. "No, no you don't, we're going to get a cup of tea and calm down and then talk about how you're really feeling about all this... bottling it up will just hurt you in the long run. You haven't... seen sinners die and reform like that, the ones you kind of care about, before have you?"

"...no." the voice is smaller.

And suddenly Angel has her and Vaggie off the ground in a deep hug. "Hey, s'okay toots... catches us all off guard. Last time Cherri got killed, I went on a week long bender until she reformed, I didn't know what to do without her, 'cause we did everything together. It's fucked up, but that's how it is..."

"And you're trying to change it, give another option, sweetie. We believe in you, and your dream." Vaggie reminds.

---

Lucifer provides a shot of vitality to the thralls who'd been drained automatically. Feeling they were the real victims here. He wouldn't be able to chase down all the affected, but Husk and Angel and Niffty were in reach.

---

Vox will keep it out of the news to prevent copycats. Vulnerability was the wost thing an overlord could have. There's no way to play at it that every other overlord got hit but not the Vees... too many questions would be raised.

Overlords make a show of being seen in public, brazenly unafraid and seemingly unbothered by the incident.

[Pick a villain for this shitshow. Angelic in nature, orchestrated from someone high in the council, someone who was in the courtroom with Charlie and Emily singing. Not Sera, perhaps one of the as yet unnamed angels, like Uriel or Castiel... for the hell of it.]

Plot Twist: Turns out the bullets were simply a medium to deliver a very specific spell/curse to each overlord. On the inner core of the bullets, something Lucifer notices too late because he got distracted with Charlie and the hotel and ducks and the Sins saw him on TV and wanted to check in and- and- and-... Well, he missed it. With his true Sight, his devil's eyes, it would have been clear as daylight, but... he'd been too focused on trying to work out why the sigil on the base of the bullet was familiar.

Ironically, the sigil was put there because the person who had ordained it all KNEW that Lucifer was easily distracted, and if he had bothered to look into it at all, as he likely would because of Charlotte's connection to the hotel and overlord associated... then that was the most surefire way to divert the angelic adhd nightmare from figuring it out.

Until it was too late.

Once he sees. Or, they should say, once he SEES, it's almost too late to reverse. The curse, the spell, the whatever the fuck it is because it seems to be a mishmash of multiple magical ideals and cultures, like they'd been jammed in a cosmic blender and it just SHOULDN'T BE WORKING but it is...

It's doing something to the Overlords. Soemthing that each initially passed off as residual healing from the attack. It's not usual (to be loved by anyone...) for them to feel...off. Depending on the complexity of the injury and location, and the rapid nature of the regen, it could leave one feeling quite discombobulated.

In short, the spell things are targeted to them individually, and invoked by their blood. How they got scraps of it to even train the spell to begin with is anyone's guess, but Overlords scrap all the time... however, it also leave a sinking feeling in Lucifer's chest that this wasn't some fly-by-night scenario. This had been planned out for a long time. Which didn't bode well.

And then when it was fired, when it entered their heads and (even briefly) touched the blood, the viscera, the gorey internals... the spell activated. Blasting out in a sharp shockwave that imprinted the sigils, the spell, the curse within the regenerating tissue of each overlord. Immediately fed and nourished with the influx of power drawn from thralls to settle and expand.

It is now inside them, hard to claw out. Seeping into their very bones, muscle, tissue. Slowly tightening about their bodies, their minds, their power. They are weakening day by day and it never stops.

By the time it becomes obvious something is wrong, despite the best covering that all the Overlords manage, it's almost too late.

The power keeps going out, the phone networks die at random and the radios shriek. Services managed by Overlords stall without direct input. It's... a lot to deal with.

The anti-Overlords groups taunt and jeer, whipped into a frenzy by their puppet leaders. Ensorcelled sinners under angelic guidance.

----

Propaganda appears talking about how Overlords are dangerous and oppressive, that anyone seeking to rise to that status will be cut down once the current overlords are dead. Pictures of all the overlords deceased at the meeting go viral. Velvette convinces that its a deep deepfake.

Who? Why? What could this mean?

Stryker in here somewhere, orders from above to enact this. Someone with portal power, he was given the chance to work outside of time for only a minute in total, and he was able to enact all those shots simultaneously. He chafed at not being allowed to use his preferred weapon...

The curses start to drain the overlords, and limit their powers, siphoned off to this unknown person or some sort of totemic device (identify for plot).

Lucifer is getting nervous, sure he was leagues above Overlords but anyone who had the power of a dozen could potentially take over several goetia houses, and work on up accruing power from there, right?

Overlords don’t like accepting help or weakness, it takes a LOT to keep these fuckers from dying alone in the dark. Even Odette and Clara struggle to get their mother to truly express that she is hurt, weak, feeling unwell.

Stubborn to the last.

Some seem to shrink in stature. Some go pallid, others darken. Their bodies fighting every step of the way as they are physically forced back to human shape over a rapidly increasing duration. Vox is the most confused, having his human head back all of a sudden was the best and worst thing. Zeezi hadn't been this short in decades. Zestial had forgotten what being human even was.

Rosie... well, she was part hellborn, and it left the spell confused as to how to manage her. Susan staunchly keeps the others from eating her, but calls 'that tiny idiot in the stupid fruit basket hat' to come get her. A human in cannibal town, despite their love an adoration of her, won't last long. Instinct and all.

Their nerves are on fire, the overlords are consistently trying to hide what is happening. At first they manage to snap back into their demonic forms with effort, but as their magic wanes... it becomes increasingly clear that things are Very Wrong.

When it's discovered that they are all trapped in their human forms, Charlie personally collects who she can to bring them to the hotel. Some fight but well, she's a 6ft + super strong princess and they're human. which is to say, she can tuck them under one arm like an aggrieved chihauha at will and sneak them to her car.

The atmosphere of Hell isn't made for the living, and everything is slowly killing them. The air, the water, the lack of sunlight, the magic in everything. The furniture and other sentient things. The plants have a particular interest in eating them. Niffty has to decimate them with fire daily to keep them contained.

Mostly, despite their best efforts to remain mobile and help solve this conundrum, they're too weak for anything. But the idea of being weak, being vulnerable, even to the bleeding hearted princess, is terrifying to the overlords individually and collectively.

Alastor is particularly frustrated for various reasons, as his shadow is no longer animate... which feels like a part of him has atrophied and died. But, also, he's closer to the height of the wretched little King, who is having a great time with that. He's about an inch taller, but Lucifer's not letting that go.

Still, more concerning is that whatever it is has not yet finished with them. You'd assume this was the core of the matter, to turn them human where they'd be eaten alive by all of Hell... or killed by exposure to the atmosphere were the King not (reluctantly in some cases it must be said) providing some healing on a regular basis.

It starts when Velvette collapses, and can't be roused for well over two days. Blood pools unceasingly from-... well, it was clear how she'd passed, unfortunately. Charlie wanted to do mental health first aid the minute the overlord opened her eyes, but thankfully she was talked into Waiting for a more appropriate time.

Then Zeezi seized and hit the floor, and those who knew her recognised her cause of death (it had happened at a 90s rave, and amidst the flashing lights, pressed bodies, thumping techno and free substances no one had seen her seize until they found the body when the lights went up). Her body resisted purging the problem, despite heavenly effort.

The pair seemed locked in this... endless death.

Valentino was next, and that was oddly heartbreaking to see. Damage welling up all over the vindictive man's form, and it was clear he'd been beaten to within an inch of his life by someone. Even Angel, who fucking hated the guy, couldn't find joy in seeing something like this... even if it should have felt like vindication for everything Val did to him. He'd noticed Val had stayed away from the spider this whole time, but Angel had never been someone who'd force himself on others, not even in revenge. He jus didn't know how to say it out loud to the guy, when he wanted to spit in the usually-moth's face.

Three down.

Then Vox... his flesh sizzling and sloughing off as he collapsed. Electrocuted. Ironic. It took some fancy ward-work to stop the endless generation of electrical charge so they could get near enough to help.

[Can't tell when Carmilla died, google it, put her between the two]

Carmilla... well, her wounds were confusing. Some defensive, but strategic. Perhaps she had fought back better than her assailant had assumed? In the end, stab wounds opened on her body, and a glaring one across her throat as she laid on the carpet of her room, her daughters yelling for help.

Charlie had to take them aside and get them to play tetris through tear rimmed eyes (genuine trauma response technique) to calm them down. They'd seen this twice now. And previously, they'd died next, so it was hitting very hard.

Rosie and Alastor refused to say who was next of the two of them, both remaining cagey.

Alastor kept distant from the others, and only Husk had an idea how bad this would be. But he was close enough to Al's room when it happened, first the bullet through his thigh to make sure he couldn't run... then the marks of mauling, and finally a bullet hole between the eyes.

Charlie had screamed and shattered a mirror when she'd run at Husk's yell. Lucifer grimaced, but did what he could as the other fell into the odd coma all the overlords were trapped in.

"Told you... he hates dogs for a reason." Husk shrugged, and walked out. He maintained nonchalance long enough to duck into angel's room, head right to the toilet and throw up the last 18hrs of food because fuck, that was... that was terrible. One thing to know academically, and another to...

Rosie slowly began to freeze, and nothing they did helped, until her limbs locked up tight and water spilled from her lips. She'd been on the titanic, you see, maiden voyage and all. One of the few who decided her lifeboat seat should go to a youngster... but her penchant for eating husbands was weighed against her so, Hell it was.

She's put into a room full of regularly changed warm blankets, the water never stopped.

Zestial simply grew weak and fell into the coma one day, body twitching on occasion. Lucifer originally guessed infirmity or illness... but when he Looked Again he saw the signs of poison.

All of them down, all of them trapped in an endless deathcycle.

What could any of this mean? how was this helping Heaven or Hell or anything?

He's beside himself and calls on the Sins because What. The. FUCK?!

----------

Heavenly interference.

Calls on goetia that monitor the stars. Stolas scries that there is something on Earth on each gravesite that is channelling this downfall's magic.

Uses IMP to go to earth and find the totems, have them bring them to Hell where they can be studied.

Have to siphon out the curse with the totem, and then break it for each overlord, to bounce their power back.

Discover the angel, petition heaven for punishment. Get told too bad so sad.

Some sort of aftermath and dealing with the anti-overlord groups. etc.

ETC

[wlwanakin]

The big problem with the Padme trilogy is that, instead of looking for interesting things to mine character wise, the author was more interested in 'fixing' Padme and making her more of a girlboss tm

(I'd also say that the author was much more interested in Sabe as a character - as she could build her basically from scratch)

i honestly don’t know if i’d describe the queen trilogy as really “girlbossifying” padmé but it definitely felt more concerned with making her a Good Female Character than like, a character who feels interesting. and maybe ekj was more interested in sabé but even sabé felt more like the foundations of a good character than an actual good character. in my opinion these books are mostly held back by being aggressively, aggressively young adult and therefore extremely surface-level and juvenile.

it frustrates me because you can tell they’re trying to do padmé justice and trying to expand on a beloved concept and set of characters. people love padmé and naboo and the handmaidens so books in padmé and sabé’s pov centering around their relationship where sabé is actually allowed to be queer should rule immensely. but these books try to sell us the most uncomplicated version possible of it’s presenting: naboo really is as idyllic as it looks, padmé suffers in her role as queen but only in the obvious ways, her handmaidens are all her friends and she gets along super well with all of them like they’re one epic girl gang, even the juicy stuff with sabé feels so muted and despite the tension between them they always end on good terms. and i really do think a level of subconscious gender essentialism is a component to why these books largely about teenage girls are unwilling to make their relationships with power and each other complicated despite being almost entirely about a girl who was crowned queen of a planet at fourteen and her decoys who are subservient to her to the point of death.

and it’s extra frustrating because there’s something there with a lot of what it’s presenting, it’s just not really committed to quite as much as i feel like it should be. and i feel like a lot of that is how they’re written—everyone has a very bland narrative voice including padmé herself and that makes any internal exploration feel shallow. but on top of that it’s just like, these books are so largely about all the roles padmé and her handmaidens play, about the extreme lengths they go to lose themselves and each other in padmé’s personas, and all these complicated themes about power and identity and loss of self are like right there and it feels like in this whole trilogy the surface was barely even scratched. even sabé, who i think is the best written character out of all of them, seems to have far less complicated emotions about padmé than i’d expect from someone who has spent a decade devoted to her at great cost to herself, quite literally loses herself in her, and is on top of that in unrequited love with her. like there’s enough there to intrigue me and worm its way into my brain and make me post shit like this but it’s not very substantive. i don’t feel like i know padmé much better because of them, just her circumstances. and i also think a handful of those circumstances are a bit stupid.

[thus-spoke-lo]

maybe i'm just old and/or have no taste [both things are true independent of this] but the more recent horror movies i watch, the less and less sure i am that people understand what makes a satisfying ending

[some-pers0n]

The thing about the whole "Clearsight is a colonizer" thing that gets me the most is that she clearly never wanted or intended to be treated like that. She wanted a fresh start. She couldn't go on with her life on Pyrrhia due to Darkstalker's absence. She knew she would do little more than feel an ache in her heart and mourn the loss of the dragon she loved. The dragon she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. She wanted to run. She had to start anew.

Then, receiving the vision about the hurricane that was about to hit Pantala. She saw her chance and she took it. She flew for days until finally reaching the continent, being the first dragon to do so. She warned them all and saved countless lives because of it. She was seen as mystical and gifted, but that's a given when you have literal magic powers that lets you see into the future.

Clearsight spent her life peacefully. I don't think she wanted to be hailed as a god-like figure at all. She wanted to be seen as a member of the community, one no more special or note-worthy than anybody else. Her status as a prophet and deity I think was brought on in the following centuries. Wasp, the actual genocidal maniac, used Clearsight mostly as a means of which to get her way, manipulating the population into thinking that Clearsight herself foretold this would happen.

Clearsight wasn't a colonizer. I think it's a gross misuse of the word that really misunderstands both her character and the text in favour of going: "SEEE????? TUI IS BIGOTED!!!" That being said it is very iffy and uncomfortable to have Tui say: "Ohhh the reason why Clearsight basically bred out BeetleWings was because of her strong genetic material" like what are you talking about

[quentinfiletmignon]

PAPA EMERITUS IV • GHOST

A4 • STABILO point 88 liners

[crashcrush]

Am I the only person who thinks they gave us that nandermo scene (crumbs) because paul simms realised he fucked up a bit when discussing their relationship and he didn't expect the backlash he got

[bunny-banana]

found an old fic i wrote in 2013 on an old USB stick...incredible experience reading that thing now

[edwinisms]

It’s so strange to me that a whole lot of people misinterpret edwin as being “socially awkward” or “uncharismatic” when he’s really quite capable in both those departments? I mean he’s the face of the agency and talks to clients like a professional, he’s quickwitted and takes notice of cues and implications in conversation, he’s quintessentially eloquent and has no issue or hesitation presenting his arguments and opinions, he was raised in an environment where being keenly aware of social cues was essential both in basic society and moreover for a boy trying to avoid being hurt all the time, etc etc etc. the moments where he comes off as awkward tend to be ones that are easily explained by the situation– like when he’s flustered, dealing with a sensitive topic or feelings he’s not used to, or when something highlights him being a bit out of touch when it comes to modern phrases, etiquette, objects, etc (understandably and inevitably– not the fault of his personality or temperament).

yeah, he absolutely has trust issues and doesn’t get close to people easily on a genuine level, and he can be cold, spiteful, and brutally honest at times (pretty much always intentionally– compare to niko, who’s blunt and sometimes causes insult without realizing it), but by default, he’s quite a charismatic, well-spoken guy with a proclivity for performance. people just tend to ignore, forget, or disregard that because the flustered skittish person he becomes when he’s faced with something out of his comfort zone or realm of understanding is quirkier and easier to fit into a common pathetic gayboy archetype.

[nerdie-faerie]

'I think you can either be friends with someone, or in love with them. You can't be both' I specifically hate that mentality

[akajustmerry]

you think RTD who is boring?

not... Boring but repetitive? conventional? yeah. every RTD finale back in the day was just Russell flipping a coin like "will it be Nazi tin cans or the Doctor's ex boyfriend?" and there's nothing wrong with that, necessarily. They're still written well. I just personally don't find Russell's dedication to invoking traditional Who that interesting. The ideas are stale to me, but the quality of his writing saves it. Whereas with Moffat I feel like the ideas underpinning everything were really compelling and had a nice balance of new/familiar, but Moffat isn't a good writer when it comes to characters and conventions. Which is why, in my mind, if you combined the two styles I'd be happy as Larry.

[captainrufflebanger]

Full disclosure I would happily draw Agatha fanart but I haven't watched anything past when episode 3 came out :)

[mikimeiko]

Not Dead Yet | Season 1 (2023), David Windsor and Casey Johnson

[sailermoon]

also how I feel about the from dusk till dawn series