#devigail

[dichromaticdyke]

After the firing of Dick “Magic Ears” Knubbler, Abigail Remeltindtdrinc becomes Dethklok’s newest producer. Her unorthodox approach to her job and her stance as one of the few women in the industry worthy to work with Dethklok as an equal sets her apart and puts her on an unexpected path. With nearly no way to move past the constant media assault that comes with being associated with Dethklok, she seeks solace with Devon Amalgamedle, a bartender with a passion for death metal, flowers, and romance—and whose past is even more shrouded in mystery than Abigail’s. And as she deals with both her developing trauma and her blossoming romance, the apocalypse looms overhead, bright as a blazing star. An Abigail-focused, OC-heavy story, taking you through the untold narrative of the Record Cleaner, from her first moments as Dethklok’s producer and past her last moments with the band. See her life unfold and adapt beyond the legacy of the death metal gods.

RATING: Explicit (Mature for most chapters, Explicit chapters will be marked in the notes) WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault WORD COUNT: 100,620

ohhhh my god okay it's happening. everybody stay calm. stay fucking calm!

official fic playlist:

my abigail playlist:

my devon playlist:

my devigail playlist:

[m3gahet]

devigail would take in dove like a little lost puppy. they could absolutely give her sweet platonic kisses, remind her everything’s ok and she’s loved, abigail teaching her to be a girlboss 💕

Girl boss lessons start at 7am sharp, Dove do not be late

[dichromaticdyke]

this is cute

@god-impeaching-dj @sexystevebuscemi @ideyaag @the-loveliest-lotus @nyoomkitty and anyone who want to pls have fun this is cute

This Picrew is cute as hell, and I highly recommend using it for OC ships, because again, it's cute as hell! 🖤✨

In fact, let's make a chain of this! I tag @dolly-macabre, @dichromaticdyke, @blackmetalstar, @plvtosun and @dudenastii 🖤✨

[god-impeaching-dj]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEVON!!!!!!

Woe devigail sketches be upon ye

@dichromaticdyke

[dichromaticdyke]

._.

valentine’s devigail 🩵💜🧡

and yes i did draw this over rhiyo

[m3gahet]

A4 for devon and abigail if it’s ok!

Of course it’s okay 💕

[dichromaticdyke]

yippee vibrators

[dichromaticdyke]

collage/moodboard for The Fundamentals of Mixology because it’s done and it feels weird. 100 days of devigail 🧡🩵💜

[dichromaticdyke]

happy grammy night! post-aotd grammy shenanigans oooh.

[dichromaticdyke]

23 with Devigail cuz you know I love some sapphic hurt/comfort

23- Write about your ship supporting each other through a hard time.

Some days were better than others.

Truthfully, Devon hadn't known better. He still probably should have thrown out the raw meat in the fridge once it had started to spoil, but he had he known how Abigail would react upon its discovery, he wouldn't have been so careless. It wasn't even that old, just enough for the smell to kick in. But that was all that was needed.

As the acrid, almost ammonia-like scent of rotting flesh hit Abigail's nose, she threw a hand over her mouth and nose, desperate to block it out. Her mind filled in the gaps in her sight, watching non existent maggots curl in and out of the meat. She doubled back from the fridge, eyes twisted shut in fear and disgust, curling in on herself.

She burned. She felt her tattoos burn. No, not her tattoos. She didn't have tattoos, she had a gaping, poorly-stitched together wound in her back and exiting out her front. The bright overhead lights stung her retinas, so used to squinting in the dark. She couldn't breathe.

The weight of the iron collar around her neck, chaining her to the ground, wasn't actually there. But the mental weight kept her locked in place regardless.

"Is everything okay in there?" came a voice. It was familiar, it was warm, but Abigail didn't trust any illusions of trust right now. She looked up, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from, trying to parse through the dank, dark room her brain told her she was at and the brightness that actually looked into her eyes.

She caught sight of a knife handle. Desperate for a means to defend herself, she grabbed hold of it, pointing it outward at the approaching person. "Don't come any closer!" she demanded. Her voice came off weak and hoarse, but she screamed out as best she could regardless.

"Abi?" The voice was far too gentle. It was confused, even. This wasn't the voice of the mindless revengencers coming to torment her, this wasn't the voice of Magnus coming to mock her or deride her for her involvement in the band.

She knew this voice. Devon?

"Abi, it's me, put the knife down."

No, how was Devon here? Had Magnus gotten to him too? She shook her head. "No no, I need it. I didn't have it at the funeral, I need it."

"It's okay. Abigail, you're home. No one's here to hurt ya. Gimme the knife."

Could it be true? It would explain the brightness everywhere. She became cognizant of her own breathing, shallowly wheezing to try to remain upright. She dropped the knife on the ground, close enough that she could still grab it in case this all turned out to be a cruel trick.

"Okay. Okay." She felt strong hands press against her shoulder and her waist. She was lifted just a bit into the air, and though she prepared for the sudden jerk of the chain to catch around her throat and bring her crashing back to earth, it never came.

And it was the never coming that made her shift, just so slightly, back to the now. Her brain clouded over, and she looked at Devon. She blinked, rubbing her head. "Devon...?"

"Yea. Yea, baby, it's me."

She had lost control. She couldn't parse how it had happened, not now with the post-episode fog, but she could see the red fire at the end of the black and green tunnel. And she broke. Wailing. Screaming. Sobbing. Hysterics, even. But did they come from the weight sinking in of what was a very rare, but still very real, PTSD episode? Or were they coming from the shame that Devon saw her like this?

"Abigail, Abigail," came Devon's voice again. She knew her name, why did he keep saying it? His hands came to her hair and she shoved him back.

"Don't, please," she cried. She hugged herself, keeping her head down. She couldn't stop the crying. How could she lose control like this? It wasn't like her. She felt so heavy.

"Don't push me away," he insisted.

"I don't want you to see me like this!" she screamed. "Go! Go, no one's supposed to see me weak like this."

Devon didn't listen to her. And another day she'd kill him for that. Hell, the bets weren't off on whether or not she'd kill him for this an hour or two from now. But he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his body.

"Let go of me, please."

"Not if you're gonna run away."

"You don't know what's best for me!"

His shoulders were growing wet with her tears, her spit. He didn't let up. "Maybe not. But I'm not lettin' ya go no matter how weak you get, Abigail. I'm never lettin' ya go."

She relented. And once she stopped fighting the shame, she remembered just how good it felt to surrender into the arms of someone who loved you. She continued to cry softly into his shoulder, his hands slowly, carefully, caressing against her hair. "This might happen again," she whispered.

"And I'll be here again."

"But what if you're not? You weren't at the funeral." It stung to remind him of that, and she could hear his sharp intake of breath at that.

"I'll be there." He released her just enough to brush his fingers against her necklace. The ring on her left hand. "And you'll be with me." He did the same with his own necklace, his own ring. His hand came to her stomach, pressing against her scar.

Not her scar. The lavender adorning the place where a twisted madman tried to carve his mark into her. She remembered what Devon said the lavender meant. She took a breath, and the hand came to her back, to the snapdragons that now defended her there, too.

She nodded slowly. And she curled back against Devon's chest, no longer fighting the idea at love, at comfort, at surrendering to someone else.

[dichromaticdyke]

7 Devigail!!!

7- Write about one member of your ship asking the other to dance with them.

Though Abigail had been aware of Devon's impressive music collection for quite some time, she was still finding many records and tapes tucked into the shelves that surprised her. She had her own significant catalog of music backed up on her hard drive, and she'd make a pretty lousy producer if she didn't keep up with enough music variety to keep her ear sharp. She wondered what Devon ever spent their money on besides music. Still, it gave her a chuckle to find the what appeared to be the soundtrack to Elvis's infamous film Blue Hawai'i on their shelves.

As she turned the vinyl over in her fingers, amazed that such a vintage record still seemed mostly intact despite her handling, she noticed it was a 7-inch, easily explaining the placement better, even if the idea of Devon willingly buying anything with that man's face on it was laughable.

She turned her head as Devon came in from the kitchen, uncapping a well-loved bottle of whiskey. "Find somethin'?" they asked.

"Yeah," she said, quickly putting the record onto the turntable before Devon could see. Music and liquor, resting against Devon's legs while she read or they worked on a new leatherwork project, talking softly to recap the week that the both of them had missed due to their contrasting schedules. It was a common Sunday evening event, and Abigail had typically been tasked with setting the mood by choosing from Devon's record collection.

And now, she was ready to set the mood for something else. Even if, on any other day, the two might quip about the debated deservedness of Elvis's success, she felt the warmth of her necklace against her clavicle, her body feeling as though it was glowing tonight. With that, she dropped the needle.

Wise men say, only fools rush inBut I can't help falling in love with you

"Ah, Abi...," Devon said softly, but Abigail pressed her finger to their lips.

"The movie was terrible. I know." She rested her hands on their biceps, and, with no hesitation, their gloved hands found her waist. Devon knew better than anyone what a fool they'd turned her into, and she wouldn't have it any other way. They were her fool, too.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sinIf I can't help falling in love with you?

You couldn't tell who was leading either. Maybe you'd guess correctly, but there wasn't really a "correct" guess here. They were leading each other, pulling each other to and fro in the tidal wave of emotion.

"What came over ya?" Devon asked softly, too quiet to be heard over the saccharine crooning of the man on the vinyl.

She smiled back. "Maybe we should go to Hawai'i. We deserve it."

"You're nuts if ya think I'm gettin' on a plane for ya."

"You've done it before," she reminded them.

"Yeah. Yeah, because I'm nuts about ya."

"Me too." She remembered her own equally insane choice, not just getting in a plane for them, almost dying in said plane for the chance of finding them again. She deserved to go somewhere nice for it anyway.

Take my hand, take my whole life, tooFor I can't help falling in love with you

"How about we just start with the drink, huh? I'll make a Blue Hawai'i for ya right now."

She kissed them softly in response, and it was enough for them, kissing her back with equal gentle passion, the dancing turning to swaying. Smoke was already on their lips, and she inhaled it deeply, the fire in them meeting with her own, the ocean around both their necks keeping them to the ground.

For I can't help falling in love with you

The record skipped as it reached the end of the song, and when Devon went to flip it, Abigail kept her hand firmly in theirs. "Start the song over," she said. "I'm not done with you."

"A'right." They did as she said. "But I'm puttin' on 'Rock-A-Hula Baby' when I make your drink."

In lieu of a response, she moved her hands up to cup their face, pressing her nose to theirs. Both their eyes closed shut in peaceful sway.

[dichromaticdyke]

i’m not doing kloktober since i completed that challenge in full last year and im focused on TFOM but today’s prompt was favorite ship and in honor of TFOM i wanna share this edit @god-impeaching-dj made for devigail 💜

[dichromaticdyke]

devon art by @god-impeaching-dj

sleepy n drinking from a custom mug of their gf 🥺

[dichromaticdyke]

25! Pretty please?

-Kandi :)

25- Write about your ship bathing or swimming together. (@god-impeaching-dj)

"Aren't ya gonna get in the water?" Devon asked Abigail, who was sitting in her chair reading a book. The two of them had decided to go to the lake for the day, and Devon, who hadn't gone to any beach since she was a child growing up with her cousins and uncle, was excited at the prospect. She'd gone out to buy swim trunks and everything.

Abigail glanced out at the water before shifting a bit in her chair. "I've put on some weight," she said, as though that answered the question. It was true, Devon could notice that her minty green one-piece swimsuit seemed a bit tight at the hip, and her stomach certainly had a round softness to it that pressed against the seems that cut up the waist, but she hadn't thought much of it.

Devon, who had been enjoying the water on her own for about five or ten minutes at this point, laid a towel out beside Abigail to sit down. She put a hand on her thigh. "D'ya really think so?" she asked.

Abigail rested her hands over her stomach, squishing it a bit with a lamenting sigh. "Definitely."

Devon shrugged. She definitely didn't notice a major increase, but if the swimsuit wasn't fitting the way Abigail wanted it to, she couldn't argue that. "Ya still look incredible. And, hell, this'll just give me more of ya to love."

She huffed softly. "I don't want the tattoos to stretch."

"They won't." The swimsuit hid Abigail's tattoos from view, but Devon's hands found them anyway. Her fingers dipped along the scar tissue that the light purple and green ink had been molded over, disguising it from casual onlookers. She still shuddered whenever Devon touched her scar, but she didn't pull away. "Besides, it's a good thing, I think."

"What makes you say that?" She bristled under her touch, head tiled downward. Her eyes were slightly obscured behind her reading glasses, which was ironic as Devon often had trouble reading her gaze as it was.

"Well, you're always so buttoned up, right? Always so meticulous, always so in control. I think you're finally letting yourself relax. Maybe even heal." She squeezed her stomach gently. "So if ya gain a little weight, then maybe it means you're learning to be okay with not bein' perfect all the time."

Abigail wet her lips with her tongue before putting her book back in the bag, along with her reading glasses before replacing them with a large pair of sunglasses. "I guess it is too hot to not go for a dip," she said.

Devon smiled, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. She dragged her into the water, laughing at Abigail's slight resistance. When the two reached the shore, Abigail paused for a moment. Devon felt electricity shoot through their joined hands, causing her to stop too. She faced Abigail, lips parted in quiet confusion. "You okay?"

Abigail blinked once. Twice. She squeezed Devon's hand reassuringly. "Thought I heard...whales..."

"In the lake?"

"Yes. I know, that's impossible."

Devon chuckled. "After everything ya've been through this past year, I'm not gonna call anything 'impossible.'" She tightened her grip on Abigail's hand, pulling her farther into the water. She slipped on a rock under the surface and, in tumbling, pulled Abigail closer to her. They both went under the water and—

There. For a brief moment, maybe because of shared hysteria, maybe because of the power of suggestion, maybe because she hit her head too, but Devon heard the haunting melody of a whale.

She and Abigail both came to the surface, gasping for breath for a couple shocked moments.

"Was that—?"

"I heard—"

But neither finished their sentences. They laughed, shaking their heads before Devon placed her hand on the side of Abigail's face. "We're both losing it a bit, maybe," she said.

"I thought you said nothing was impossible."

"It's not. The idea that we're both insane is also not impossible." With another laugh, they pressed their lips together, curling their arms around each other's necks and shoulders.

Go into the water Live there, die there

[dichromaticdyke]

20 DeviGail ❤️🧡🩷🤍

20- Write about your ship sneaking a romantic moment together.

Devon returned from the bar exhausted and smelling like cheap vodka. Which wasn't her fault at all, mind you, it was the fault of some idiot death metal musician (who shall remain anonymous) deciding that it was BYOB. And now at three am, she was beyond tired and ready to collapse next to her already fast-asleep wife, their Saint Bernard not-quite-a-puppy-anymore-but-still-not-full-grown Andie rolled up against Abigail's stomach.

As she pulled her soaked T-shirt off, she caught sight of the note Abigail left on the nightstand:

Devon, There's leftover Sega Wat in the fridge. Uncorked red wine in there too, don't let it spoil. Love, Abigail

The idea of even smelling more booze at this point was enough to make Devon's stomach turn. But who wouldn't need it after a night like this?

The dryness of the wine hardly did much to quell the spiciness of the food, but the combination together was a perfect reminder of Abigail. It stung to know Abigail had prepared all this by herself, and even though Devon hadn't stood her up, these rare moments where Abigail surprised her with some of the Remeltindtdrinc family recipes were enough to make Devon cringe at their situation. It was amazing how you could spend so much time with one person but still barely get to see them.

She spooned cold beef stew directly from the Dutch oven while leaning over the kitchen sink, drinking the red wine directly from the bottle.

—

At six am, Abigail cracked her neck and stretched with the rising sun. Always living by the adage of the early bird getting the worm, she glanced over at her sleeping wife, still living on the opposite schedule. Devon reeked of cheap vodka, and Abigail could only assume that was the work of either rowdy patrons or Dethklok. She didn't know which was preferable.

She removed her silk bonnet and put on her reading glasses to look over the note Devon had left in response to her own:

Abigail, We're out of red wine now. I saved some sega wat, though. Didn't know you could cook like that. Remind me why we're always eating take out again. I'll make you something next time, promise. Love, Devon

Somehow it didn't surprise her that Devon had emptied that entire wine bottle by herself, but she was hardly one to talk. That had only been the second wine bottle she'd opened the night before, after dealing with her own stressful day.

The stress was easier to deal with when your wife was around.

When she was dressed and set to go on her run, she felt a warm hand press against the small of her back, fingers lightly tracing her more sensitive skin. She gasped a little, looking down at Devon, whose eyes were still very much furrowed in sleep. "Be back soon, I'll make coffee," she muttered.

Abigail pressed a kiss to Devon's forehead. "If you can be up by the time I'm back, I'll make you coffee, okay? Something tells me you're not leaving this bed till noon."

Devon groaned softly. "No... Let me take care of you."

Abigail pressed her hand to Devon's face. "You do everyday. But I'm a big girl, I don't need it."

"But you don't make the coffee right. And you want to be taken care of..."

She didn't dignify that with a response. They both knew it was true. and nodded. She kissed Devon's knuckles. "I'll be back in forty-five minutes. Love you."

"Love you..." Devon's hand dropped from Abigail's stomach.

And before Abigail set off outside, she turned on the electric kettle. One way or the other, Devon was going to need a little extra help getting her caffeine fix by the time Abigail came back. But it would be worth it if only to have an hour before she left for work.

[dichromaticdyke]

54 Devigail! ^_^

54. do they want kids together? give me all the details - names, what traits they inherit, etc.

devon’s mindset around kids is pretty neutral honestly, more just the idea that she’d be willing to have kids if her partner wants them but she doesn’t need them. abigail hasn’t really thought of kids much being so career oriented. but it’s not like kids can happen on accident right? not like someone very smart and awesome once famously said, “strap gets you pregnant in the mtl universe,” right?

anyway i’ve been ruminating on whether or not they would have a kid, but if they did, they’d have abigail’s no-bullshit confidence, devon’s music taste, and both of their pride.

ship questions!