#where they take their stupid ideas from? The pit of hell? No even Satan is not that perverted to make our dash look like this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obeiii-mee · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! Can I request an hc about a shady MC who's not phase by anything in Devildom with the brothers (and Diavolo?? he deserves love!!!)? Like, when Luci's like "i CaN KiLL yOu hUmAN", MC's reaction was like "Oh... congratulations then." i need more shady mc who may or may not be planning to ruin your life😂😂 Thanks and take care!!❤❤

The Brothers + Diavolo with an MC that is not phased by DevilDom

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Pls I need more shady MC, they would not take any shit from the brothers. Put any Gen Z-er with these guys and you’ve got yourself a suicidal and reckless human exchange student.

They wouldn’t know what to do with one of those ahaksbakanhaka you’re right, Diavolo deserves all the love >:(((((((

You better take care too >:( thanks for sending me this big brain request. I’ve been preoccupied with other projects so I took a while to get to this ask. Hope you’re doing OK💙

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Lucifer:

-He thought having a human exchange student was going to be bad enough as it is but this…..this was so much worse than he could have ever imagined

-The moment you arrived, he already knew you were going to be a problem child and a persistent one at that

-Literally the first thing you asked him was : “Why do you look like an off-brand Levi Ackerman?”

-And he was left there, astounded, confused and offended because he had no idea who you were talking about (cuz at that point you hadn’t met the third eldest) and the tone you had was, frankly, pissing him off

-You kept wondering off on your own????? Without looking like you gave a shit even though you almost walked into a butcher’s shop that specialises in human meat???? Tf MC?

-Also really irritated that you couldn’t be intimidated and that DevilDom was like a playground to you, for some reason? Like, MC get out of the fiery pits of eternally tormented souls- this is Hell, not the McDonald’s ball pit ffs

-Things did not improve for him lmao, by the end of the first week he had already ripped out a good chunk of his hair because of you

-“MC, you should know by now provoking demons like this for no good reason is only going to make life harder for you. Keep this up and you’ll get killed in no time because of your behaviour.”

-“Great, can we have a hip-hip and a hurray?”

-In the span of one day, he’s had to come to your rescue six times (approximately) because you’re too nonchalant about your surroundings around literal creatures of hell

-He doesn’t have enough coffee or will to live for this bs

-“Lucifer, I found this dead plant and brought it here because it reminded me of you.”

-“…..sigh. Why? Why does it remind you of me?”

-“Because it’s cold and unresponsive.”

-He made the consecutive decision to ignore you

-(low-key kept the plant tho)

-Honestly, you get on his nerves a lot and he has definitely contemplated killing you in the past but at the end of the day he really can’t bring himself to do it

-We both know he tried a few times lmfao

-“I will tear you limb from limb, human-“

-“Can I finish my tea first.”

-“You…wait, what?”

-“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting this tea get cold. Try to kill time before I’m done and I’ll smash this cup against your head.”

-If you try hard enough, you might even elicit a laugh out of him, especially if your shadiness is directed at any of his brother which results in him patting your head affectionately

-Nowadays he’s just concerned because you seemed to have made an alliance of sorts with Belphagour and Satan and that’s not a good sign

-For his sake, if not yours, at least try to survive the year without getting chomped on by a random demon please

-He’s too stubborn to let you die just because you’re unbothered by everything so cut him some slack and help out damn it

Mammon:

-“Oi Lucifer, how come I’m stuck babysittin’ this stupid human?”

-“And how come I’m stuck with this asshole for a tour guide, with his fake ass designer shoes and no brand sunglasses. That’s a lot of smack talk from someone with crow shit stains covering the back of his jacket. Also, did you stick your hair in a bucket of mayonnaise?”

-……..

-He was so offended lol

-Normally, humans like you cower in fear whenever demons are as much as mentioned because of the whole “I can eat you whole” thing

-And here you are; insulting the Avatar of Greed and one of the princes of Hell himself just because you didn’t like his attitude

-Don’t worry tho, he warms up to you in less than a fucking month simply because you still come to his rescue whenever his brothers start insulting him and wow, look at that, his heart is now combusting on the floor

-“Y’all have no right to criticise Mammon when he has the most self control out of all of you.”

-“Since when does Mammon have any self control? He can’t keep himself from nicking anything that looks shiny.”

-“Motherfucker, I don’t see him trying to choke me to death, respectfully pls shut the fuck up. I don’t want to say I have favourites but if I do, it’s definitely him.”

-While Mammon’s in the background, with hearts instead of pupils in his eyes like ❤️👄❤️

-He doesn’t even mind running around after you anymore (will still complain about it though because your ass is in constant danger and he’s had enough)

-Honestly, you keep starting shit with random demons, some of which are quite powerful mind you, and you don’t back down even when he’s there to step in

-Would low key love to watch you fight one of your classmates at RAD and organise a ticket selling booth for the event but Lucifer will hang him a new one if he does

-So for now, he sticks to baring his teeth at the aggravator in question and you’re there, giving the same demon the middle finger

-The way you sometimes match his energy gets him so hyped up lmao

-“Mammon, did you steal Levi’s money again?”

-“T’s none of her business human. Now go away, shoo!”

-“Bitch, don’t ‘shoo’ me, I ain’t a bird. Now tell me, did you?”

-“…..Why do you ask?”

-“Because a new flavour of instant noodles just got announced, called ‘Super Hell-Sauce Flavour’ and I thought you might be more interested in that than wasting the money on gambling.”

-“….ok but only if you come with me to buy some.”

-This…this is true love right here

Levi:

-Oh no, now there’s two of you

-Why do I feel like his energy would match MC’s almost immediately? Maybe it’s because he spends too much time in his room on the internet like the rest of us do

-“What do you want, you stupid normie?”

-“300…..”

-“….300 what?”

-“300 mangas collected, thousands of episodes of anime watched, over 60 character figurines, plushies, body pillows, merchandise and several posters only to be called a fucking normie by a demon weeb that’s only known me for 10 minutes.”

-Boom, instant friendship

-He becomes attached to you almost immediately and now that he knows how unphased you are by DevilDom, he is seriously worried

-Hell, you’re making him consider going outside his room just to make sure you’re alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere because you decided to get on someone’s nerves that particular day

-Even during the quiz thing, when he almost kills you, you’re just sitting on the floor and awkwardly watching him as he throws a sissy fit

-Levi feels sort of conflicted with you because one one hand you’re good company and he loves having you around, you’re his Henry after all

-But on the other hand, you put yourself in so much danger it makes him paranoid so often to the point where he wants to keep you locked in his room and wrapped in bubble wrap

-Nearly had a heart attack when you almost walked right into a pit of lava like MC???? This isn’t one of his video games???? You’re not gonna respawn if you die????

-Besides all that, he gets a bit jealous of you confidence and your ability to just do whatever without fearing death or consequence

-“MC, how do you do it?”

-“Do what?”

-“How do you go about your life without a care in the world?”

-“I guess I’ll tell you my secret Levi. I’m not like other humans that’s why, I’m just so unique I do things differently.”

-“You sound like a pick me-“

-As long as you’re OK and not injured because of your carelessness, he’s indifferent about your behaviour and will even applaud you for your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing

-“lmao the human exchange student just dumped Solomon’s cooking in the trash while looking him dead in the eye 💀💀💀”

Satan:

-Your attitude towards DevilDom and demons in general kept him entertained, if nothing else

-You rarely seemed to consider how much of a threat that place really is and usually you were just running around, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rules and doing your own thing

-Which, you know, he’s all about

-I can’t say there were no incidents between the two of you

-With his short temper and your tendency to say things without caring about the consequences, there were definitely moments when he might’ve snapped on you

-“MC for goodness sake, what happened to my room?”

-“What do you mean?”

-“It’s an absolute mess! I just told you to bring me my spells and curses book, not mow through everything!”

-“It’s not my fault this place is built like a fucking labyrinth. You should be grateful I went to get it for you at all, I almost tripped and died several times on my way back. Also, you should get a new ladder for your shelves. It did the broken.”

-“MC….”

-“Yes?”

-“You are so lucky I love you.”

-Other than the fact his anger takes over him when things like these happen, he not so subtly encourages you to keep going because seeing Lucifer scowl at your antics gets him wheezing his lungs out

-I like to think Satan would be very impressed, even in the beginning, at the amount of nonchalance you can radiate at times

-I mean, you sure as hell don’t see it often and he loves how unpredictable you are more often than not

-If anything, he should probably thank you-idk how, but his patience has increased significantly every since you got here and he appreciates having some more control of his emotions

-“I’m gonna go put oil in Lucifer’s shoes.”

-“Do you have a death wish?”

-“Satan, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I concluded that this action is necessary.”

-“Necessary for what?”

-“Raising everyone’s morale! All of you seemed to feel down lately so I thought this would be fun for everybody!”

-“Except Lucifer, right?”

-“Except Lucifer. He grounded me from my D.D.D like I’m a fucking teenager who needs to be supervised-pssshht, I’m the most responsible one here.”

-“Yes clearly.”

-“Goodbye dear Satan, I may die today. But it’s for the greater good! (Dramatic exit with sound effects)”

-“WAIT MC!”

-“(pops head back in) yes?”

-“May I offer you my assistance?”

-You’re basically taking turns pranking his brothers and it’s hilarious

-Satan is not too worried about your well being simply because he knows his siblings and him are always going to be nearby to save you if you pull something stupid again

-Even so, he checks up on you throughout the day; just to make sure

-“Where were you?”

-“Running from a bunch of demons. Who wanted to go munchy crunchy on me, I assume.”

-“……”

-“Either that or people here are a lot friendlier than originally expected.”

-You can be such a handful and it really tests him, especially when he’s angry enough to begin with

-But despite your amazing talent at either getting completely lost around Hell, purposely walking into a prohibited place just because you felt like it or riling up others with how blunt you are, he still cares about you deeply

-You may be a pain the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass <3

Asmo:

-He should’ve known something was up with this particular human when you stood there, completely calm and collected, while Beel salivated at the thought of eating you on your first day

-Asmo just brushed it off for a while but it kept happening???

-The first time Lucifer ever told you off, you really went and said “Or what? Are you going to eat me? If so, you can go ahead and start with-“

-He came to your rescue and covered your mouth before you got to finish and before Lucifer unleashed his wrath on to everyone in that house

-“OOPSIE! I think MC has been spending too much time with me. Sorry Lucifer, we gotta run now! We have a party to attend, don’t we MC darling?”

-“You mean the one hosted by the guy that tried to kill me because I shoved into him on the hallway at school and then proceeded to tell him to go fuck himself right back into whatever hell hole he was born in before you came and charmed our way out of it?”

-“Yes.”

-“Ah OK. “

-You’re tiring for sure but you’re not exactly unlikeable

-You have a certain charm hanging about you that Asmo loves

-“I almost died like…30 minutes ago.”

-“WAIT WHAT?? WHY?? WHAT HAPPENED-MC ARE YOU OK???”

-“Yeah, I almost drank some poison today because someone told me it was water. It smelt off though so I didn’t.”

-“….”

-“Anyway, I got you this bracelet on my way home.”

-He really does wish you would take things a bit more seriously

-This is your life on the line, you know? What would he do if you died?

-“MC, you’re not immortal, you can die so much more easily than I can, you know that right???”

-“I don’t care.”

-“Well I do! And you should too….”

-A lot of people don’t see past his vanity tbh, because he can be such a caring person towards the people he loves

-The amount of videos he has of you appearing to be completely calm while pure chaos is descending in the background is pretty impressive

-Every time he uses his charm on you to try and get you to commit his sin, it just doesn’t work???? For some reason???? And even if it’s just with simple, innocent affection for now, he is determined to tempt you into it

-“MC~gimme a hug!”

-“But that’s social interaction and I don’t support it- do you have a charger for my D.D.D by any chance?

-Or at least die trying to ig

-Asmo loves having you around but you’re giving him wrinkles and that’s not okay >:(

Beel:

-The moment he realised how carefree you actually were, he sort of started checking up with you quite frequently throughout the day

-It’s his way of protecting you but if he could, he would follow you around all the time

-Becomes your body guard because you may not care enough about your safety but he certainly does so get ready to be carried everywhere

-You will not get hurt nor will anyone mess with you if he has a say in it and let me tell you, he does

-Thing is, his brothers mostly know him for being slightly dense in some aspects of day to day life

-He’s not perceptive of things that don’t involve food or his loved ones

-And because you most definitely are a loved one of his, he does notice how careless you are really often

-And it scares, rather worries, him because DevilDom is an incredibly dangerous place-even with all the precautions they had taken when you came

-“MC get down, you could fall.”

-“But Beel, look-I’m finally taller than everyone else! Taller than you even! Hey, should I do a backflip?”

-He has no idea why you thought jumping from 60 meter high cliff into a small river of squashed demon blood was a good idea but he wasn’t going to risk anything just because you felt like showing off your diving skills

-Proceeds to carry you away, completely unfazed

-In this case, I feel like Beel is not someone who gets bothered by the horrible things happening around there either

-As long as he has food and his family is safe and happy then he’s also happy, as mentioned above

-But he knows he’s alright with DevilDom because he’s been living here for centuries now

-A bit curious as to why you’re so unbothered

-And even more curious as to why you weren’t terrified of him transforming in his demon form after he lost control when he found out you ate his pudding

-Or more like Mammon did and pushed the blame on you

-“YOU. ATE. MY. PUDDING!”

-“Beel I love you but if you did not just see Mammon shoving the damn container in my mouth two seconds prior to this, then you might need glasses.”

-He apologised to you later for it but even so, you didn’t seem to mind like at all and he didn’t really understand why

-Unless you end up explaining why exactly you feel so indifferent about your life being in potential danger, he won’t really pry

-But now he has even more reason to follow you around like a lost puppy

-Since it’s clear you don’t really care about protecting yourself

-So now it’s his job to do it

-MC protection squad? Mostly Beel and Mammon

-ahhh he cute

Belphie:

-Oh

-You piss him off so much

-He’s trying to have his moment, you know?

-Finally getting that glimmer of satisfaction after killing a human as a way to avenge his sister’s death

-Trying his hardest to make it as miserable as possible because he has so much rage in him, he needs you to suffer

-“Harder Daddy-“

-“Oh fuck off.”

-Nah but for real, what the fuck MC

-Why does he even bother, he feels like he should be sleeping instead of dealing with your bullshit

-Even afterwards, when your future self shows up and he tries to kill you again, you look more thoughtful than irritated???

-Lucifer and Beel are literally holding him back from doing another Chocky on you and you’re standing there, looking at him with your eyebrows raised

-“Hey Belphie, I have a quick question. I know you’re trying to kill me and everything but do you like the colour blue?”

-“HUH??!?!”

-“It’s a simple yes or no question Belphie. Do. You. Like. Blue?”

-“WHAT DOES IT MATTER???!!!”

-“BELPHAGOUR, AVATAR OF SLOTH-YES OR NO, JUST FUCKING ANSWER!”

-“YES! FUCK YOU!”

-“Ah ok thanks. I like blue too :)”

-????????????

-Pls he felt like sticking his foot down your throat

-As of late, he’s kind of glad he didn’t manage to scare you away that day and that he didn’t traumatise you or something

-At the time, he was mad because he didn’t understand why you weren’t scared but now he just wants to make it up to you

-“You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry MC, I won’t blame you if you decide to stay away from me now.”

-“Stfu dipshit, what’s gotten you so depressed? Did you have another fight with Beel? I told you not to eat the last slice of cake.”

-“Rude ass, I was trying to apologise for my past mistakes-let me repent will you?”

-“Said no demon ever. Now let’s go hang out you emo bitch.”

-Y’all vibe together on a spiritual level once that shit gets sorted out

-But he’s kinda scared you might pull out a knife on him ngl

-Obviously, you’re still annoying as fuck with that indifferent attitude of yours but he can live with it

-He appreciates the fact that you’re not scared of him, even after what he’s done

Diavolo:

-Ah yes, the future King of DevilDom himself

-He’s very enthusiastic about the idea of you having fun this year…..and to keep you alive….

-He, of course, expected a range of reactions from you when he first summoned you here

-None of which were “Ok but could you not have given me a heads up? Before the whole teleportation thing? I face-planted your onto marvellously polished the floor and now I think I lost even more brain cells than before.”

-He felt so bad gagajajahahwgehhsb

-He apologised for bringing you out here without any warning like that and then proceeded to introduce you to everyone

-Diavolo is actually kind of relieved to see you’re handling everything pretty well

-He thought that maybe DevilDom was too much for a human to deal with

-Meeting Barbatos also went incredibly smooth

-“Barbatos? The one that cleans the floors right? Big fan of your work, I could eat off the floor of the main hall.”

-He’s so glad to see you getting along with everyone and not getting intimidated by the brothers

-It gets him excited thinking about how the exchange program is gonna work and all three realms will be united

-But he’s not stupid so don’t think he’ll allow you to stumble around, getting up to all sorts of mischief

-He always has someone watching you because he would hate to see you die, despite being pretty fond of your carefree attitude

-“MC, please be careful. Most demons here aren’t all that nice.”

-“Aye aye Captain.”

-He fears that many demons would take your indifference as a challenge and try to assert dominance or something by kidnapping you

-As far as creatures of hell go, they love installing fear in people

-So he always keeps an extra eye open for you

-And he’ll be there to help you if something goes wrong

-But other than that, he’s pretty chill as well and he finds you so hilarious, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone as eccentric and dramatic as Mammon and Asmo

-Idk what else to add here, Diavolo is very accepting and as long as you don’t get hurt, he’s glad you can get used to your new surroundings so easily

———————————-

Al~

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Text

Catharsis (A Satan x GN MC Fanfic)

As it would turn out, moving is hell, and tensions are high in my house for the moment... I can't work up enough of a playful mood to look at my other WIPs right now, so here's another episode of "I'm Moody and Need to Work Through Some Stuff... w/ Jazzy." Funny enough, I wrote this while listening to Kartharsis (yes with a K) by TK from Ling tosite sigure (yes the Unravel guy).

Warning: Angst, Verbal Abuse

Catharsis: the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions

Satan could never claim to have the healthiest anger management strategies… To some extent, it's not exactly his fault. He's a being born from rage itself and for most of his life, it's tinted his every thought… Even after cooling down some, his temper remained exceedingly short. And worst of all, his wrath could burn looong… If given a chance, he could stay mad for days unless given some kind of release…

His brothers usually knew to steer clear if getting Satan that pissed. The only surefire way they had of calming him down was to let him destroy something and that wasn't doing all that great for the House's walls… But brothers do what brothers do. There will probably always be a day where they're bickering or fighting with each other… which means that Satan could never be off the hook entirely...

The person who actually got his nerves this time was Belphie. The co-members of the Formerly Anti-Lucifer League don't butt heads very often, but it's bound to happen occasionally… Particularly when Lucifer was concerned. Belphie had promised to get Satan a book he needed for a curse the two of them had been scheming for months. It was supposed to be so intricate and difficult to undo that it'd have the eldest struggling for weeks… Unfortunately, Belphegor had decided to sleep in on the day he was supposed to bring it... This made Satan miss a crucial time window to put the finishing touch on their curse. They'd have to wait another century for the planets to align again…

To say that Satan was irritated would only be the start… truthfully, he was furious. Days of effort and planning went to waste because his lazy brother couldn't be bothered to get out of bed! Perhaps even more unfortunate, though, was that Belphie wasn't one to take someone else's anger lying down… He may be lazy, but he had wit far beyond his rank and venom to match it in equal measure... All fights between these two were like verbal pit matches, a vicious dance of jabs and insults until one of them finally throws a punch or someone else steps in to break it up...

Today's unlucky contestant was Beel, who hollered at them loud enough to shake the walls... Satan knew that Belphie was more than happy to leave the situation as it was… The lazy bastard could always hide in the attic and sleep away his problems… but it wasn't that easy for Satan. His anger doesn't just "go away" like everyone else’s... Sure, he may appear to simmer down.. but it lingers. It festers. And he hates it…

He hates being mad… There's nothing pleasant about anger. Breaking people under your feet in righteous fury? Well, there's some fun in that. But just being angry with nothing to do about it...? Whoever asks for that…?

Which is why he was trying to indulge a suggestion the MC gave him some time back to take his mind off it… Stress cleaning. Apparently, it wasn't unheard of for humans to use cleaning to vent emotional frustration through physical activity... The concept didn't sound unreasonable to him at the time. So when he passed by the kitchen and saw the dishes from Beel's last meal stacked up high, he decided to roll up his sleeves and give it a try.

… He should have known that a little bit of cleaning wouldn't have been enough for him, though. With each dish that he scrubbed clean, his sponge's pressure against the porcelain increased ever so slightly… Building and building until he was very nearly cracking the plates beneath his fingers…

No… the rage wasn't leaving him. He kept replaying the fight again and again in his mind… always producing new comebacks to words that were never said and spiraling farther down into his own resentment… Hadn't the human said this would work? Why wasn't it helping…?? If anything, he just felt more worked up than before! Why was he listening to them anyway? What would they know about helping him, Wrath made flash, control his anger?? What kind of idiot was he for even considering-!

"Satan…? Are you okay…?" The tentative, yet familiar, sound of said human's voice called to him from the kitchen entrance. He didn't bother turning back to face them and just kept his eyes trained on the filth in front of him...

"No." There wasn't any point in lying, was there? They could see him practically slamming the plates down on the drying rack by this point…

"Ah…" He heard them shift their weight as an awkward beat passed. They no doubt knew it wasn't a good idea to approach Satan when he was angry… but that meddlesome streak of theirs must have been begging for them to intervene in some way. Typical human… sticking their nose in places it didn't belong…

"Well… Beel told me about what happened… You and Belphegor, right…?" He heard their footsteps finally enter the room and stop somewhere close to the kitchen island. Trying to keep some space between him and them, perhaps? Oddly reasonable coming from such a reckless creature… But it didn't stop his shoulders from tensing up at the meer sound of Belphie's name.

"Don't bring him up." His words snapped out like the crack of a whip, menacing and sharp. Though he couldn't see them, he was sure the MC flinched, and he felt a perverse sort of satisfaction in that thought… There was a pause before the MC continued, clearly considering their next words carefully...

"Satan… I just wanted to tell you that it's my fault Belphie slept in… I kept him up last night, and you know how he gets when he can't sleep." Their words were slow and careful like they were trying not to startle a wild animal. He still didn't turn back as he waited for them to continue.

"... Okay. I just thought I'd let you know, I guess… It wasn't really his fault…" There it was. His simmering temper had been wanting, no begging, for him to find something, anything, to let it go on... And this was just what he had been looking for… an opening.

"Oh. So you're taking his side then?" Pausing, he stopped abusing the glass in his hand and let an eerie calm build from his lack of motion... He knew just what he needed to do to scare them. He's done it to other people hundreds of times...

"W-what? No-I never said that…!" It didn't matter that they were right. He wasn't in the mood to be reasonable right now.

"You may as well have. You're already down here coming to his defense, aren't you? Did he put you up to it? Holding that precious 'cuddle time' you two like so much hostage, I bet..." He threw them a sidelong glare from over his shoulder and felt yet another wave of satisfaction from seeing their confused face. It was like he just swept a rug out from under them, and they were failing to catch their balance.

"That's not what I…!" They stopped themselves mid-sentence as it seemed to dawn on them just what they had gotten themselves into… Satan wasn't looking for a reasonable conversation right now. He was looking for a punching bag... But they weren't looking to be one.

"You know what… No. I don't appreciate your tone." He could see their eyes narrow as they found their resolve once more, stronger this time. He hissed softly at the loss of his easy mark...

"What does it matter? You're the one who started this in the first place. You just said as much a bit ago. Don't you know to leave me alone when I'm pissed off anyway, or are you really just this stupid?" That one must have hurt because he saw them flinch this time…

"I'm only here because I knew you were upset-"

He cut them off sharply. "And you didn't think I needed the space?" Again, they flinched at the growing volume of his voice, but they didn't appear to back down either. They only responded in a tone much softer than his own, patient but strained from invisible wounds...

"It passed my mind… But I just wanted to help…"

Help? Oh… Right. He must have forgotten who he was speaking to… Help was all the MC ever did. Even when they had no idea how or when their ideas were so crazy, they'd put Mammon to shame… He always knew they meant well… Did his anger really just blind him to why he was even washing dishes in the first place…?

The two stared at each other for a few moments while Satan battled over what to say next... Their earnest answer had re-awoken a bit of sense in him, yet he could tell his temper still wasn't satisfied… An overwhelming part of him, one he loathed to acknowledge, was calling for more vitriol… It just wanted to fight and be petty for satisfaction's sake… to have an enemy to stomp over, no matter who it was…

But just looking into the MC's eyes was keeping those hateful words down his throat… He could see that they were hurt and worse, he was well aware that he caused it… Sure, he may not have raised his fist, but he had still done plenty of damage with his voice alone… They didn't deserve his rage, and even now, he hated to have released it on them in the first place…

His internal struggle must have reached a peak without his knowledge because he hadn't noticed his grip was tightening around the glass in his hand. At least, not until it suddenly shattered all over him. The MC jumped back with a yelp at the unexpected explosion, and even he shouted a swear or two as he felt the shards lodge into his palm.

"Shit!" It didn't take a doctor to know that having glass embedded in your skin isn't ideal, and he could claim to at least have a little first aid know-how. As he used that knowledge to inspect his hand, he almost completely forgot that the MC was in the room until they made a noise.

"Um… Satan?" They were hesitant to speak, which he didn't blame them for. He did have a habit of breaking things for intimation value, but he guessed that they noticed he was as shocked as they were for once. "Need this?" In their hands was the first aid box the family kept in the kitchen. Though it was really only intended to bandage up the occasional knifed finger... it would do for the moment.

"Yes, that would help… thank you…" Though his appreciation was genuine, his words were stilted and hollow… He couldn't even meet their eyes considering how this whole exchange started… He felt terrible before, but now it was more than enough to finally overpower the wrath within him… He hates knowing when he's been a total asshole too…

He gestured the MC to put the box on the counter then began treating his wounds. They helped him as he worked nimbly, but he could feel an awkward tension between them… Not undue, but still uncomfortable. He knew he had to remedy it quickly...

"MC… I'm sorry… That was wrong of me…" They glanced away from his hand for only a moment before responding with a strained smile.

"It's alright…"

"No. It wasn't…" He paused only to grunt as he removed the largest glass shard from his palm. "...I was looking to let off some steam and targeted you unfairly… I didn't mean what I said; I was only searching for a reason to be mad… None of this was your fault… I hope you can forgive me…"

The MC shook their head as they searched the box for bandages. "No, I have some fault here too… I really should've given you space to cool off before talking to you… I just saw that you were doing the dishes and thought you were simmered down already…" He stopped what he was doing a moment and glanced back at the sink's drying rack, now half full of still soapy and partially cracked dishes.

"... Well, I don't know how vigorously you wash those, but I don't think I'm ever going to find that to be a relaxing activity." Their soft chuckle relieved a bit of the weight in the air, much to his solace.

"Fair enough… Though I'm not sure what I was thinking telling you to try cleaning in the first place. I should have just asked you to break every vacuum in the House instead." They both snickered over the image of him ripping the handles off of their hoovers by accident, and, slowly, Satan could finally feel the anger in his chest fading away... Of course, it'd be the MC to do it… It always was. Why hadn't he found them to start with…?

"And just so you know, I'm not taking sides with Belphie or anything. I'm sure he turned off his alarm or something." He snorted slightly as he finished the bandaging. Were they really still on that?

"I know, don't worry about it. It doesn't matter what side you're on to me anyway." He took his newly bandaged hand back just in time to see their puzzled expression.

"What? Why not…?" He chuckled some as he let his undamaged hand come to rest on top of their head, stroking back any bangs in an affectionate pet of sorts. He then caught the back of their head to tilt it up towards his, meeting their wide eyes with a devilish grin.

"Because you'll always be mine, kitten…"

#this story will live and die on how well i can write apologies #no pressure #i hope i didn't make satan an asshole #obey me #Obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #shall-we-date-obey-me

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bewaretheidesofmarchyall · 4 years ago

Text

Dream SMP Good Omens AU

I wrote a Good Omens AU! It’s on AO3 here, but I’m also posting it here

Sixteen years before the apocalypse, three babies were dropped off on the doorstep of an orphanage. Two of them were human as human can be, while the third was prophesied to bring about the great war between heaven and hell, start the apocalypse, and just have a generally fun time.

How exactly did the antichrist get left on a doorstep on a rainy night?

A few hours before

Our journey starts in a graveyard, where Baby No. 1 was found.

Now, when I say "Baby No. 1", know that I mean the great destroyer, future doom of the world, bringer of death, currently wrapped in a fluffy blue blanket in a wicker basket, etc.

He glanced around at the tombstones almost judgmentally, as though to say I don't think this is where one-day-old children go, but hey, I don't know enough about existence to dispute this.

The wicker basket remained tucked away in the graveyard for a while, a few drops of rain gently falling down. Apparently, the poor weather was what Baby No. 1's escort was looking for, as he appeared as the mist began to gather.

Wilbur Soot always had a penchant for dramatic atmosphere.

Quite a few lords of hell would call Wilbur the worst demon ever to walk the pit. This was absolutely untrue. Wilbur was a fairly mediocre demon that happened to be walking the pit, but certainly not the worst, putting that stupid fiddle contest bet aside.

The gossip-mongers would only say things like that (and other, harsher things) because Wilbur had been one of the best fallen angels to ever swear vengeance on a broken sword.

But it's frankly hard to keep up an emo phase for 6,000 years.

He strolled over to the basket, checked to make sure that there was still a baby in it, and waited impatiently for the thing's ride to arrive. Technically, he was supposed to be the one driving the antichrist to St. Beryl's Orphanage, but he had tickets to see Heathers that night and decided to use that most clever trick: Getting someone else to do his work instead.

Still, he didn't have much trust in the guy he'd asked, and wanted to make sure that the child actually got from the graveyard to the car.

It was already five minutes past the scheduled time, and the weather was terrible, and he was fine with starting the end of days, but why did he have to work overtime? At least Schlatt wasn't here to laugh at him being on babysitting duty.

Almost on cue, a raspy laugh came from the shadows of the church in the center of the graveyard. Ugh. Speak of the angel.

Almost everyone would call JSchlatt the worst angel to ever wear a suit.

And they would be absolutely right.

He had no care for heaven, or the great war, or any sort of noble deed. The only predictable thing about him was his biting snark and the ever-present stink of cheap alcohol.

When he entered a room, everyone there knew that they would soon regret not keeping him out by any means necessary, and he knew that they knew, and he enjoyed that.

The greatest miracle ever performed in all of earthly and non-earthly history was that he hadn't been thrown out of heaven by his horns yet.

"Are you on babysitting duty, Wilbur?". Wilbur crossed his arms, trying and failing to hide the annoyance on his face. He could have had a cool arch-nemesis, but no. He was stuck with this dick.

"Laugh all you like, Schlatt-"

"Oh, trust me, I am."

"But once the child reaches 16, he's going to bring about the finale of this pathetic excuse for an earth".

Okay, so maybe he wasn't entirely rid of that emo phase. Schlatt looked at him, smug.

"Whatever you say, Soot. Hey, did the lower-downs tell you who's watching over your little finale?"

"I am. I'm watching over the antichrist, being a "corrupting influence" (whatever that means), that sort of thing."

"Well, my higher-ups had a similar idea. They seem to think that if the kid is nudged in the right direction, he'll start the apocalypse and fight on heaven's side. Bla bla bla, defeating Satan and/or Slimecicle, honestly I zoned out during the briefing. Long story short, they thought the kid needed a positive role model, and my name got picked.".

The idea of "positive role model" and "Schlatt" being considered at all similar rattled Wilbur enough that it took a few seconds for the implications to sink in.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. We're going to be neighbors!"

"No, no, no, no-"

"Isn't this exciting?". Wilbur barely restrained a scream, and only shuddered in horror. Before he could lose what was left of his sanity and discorporate anyone, a car horn beeped. It's about time.

He half walked, half sprinted over to the black car. The window cranked open, revealing a nervous foxlike face.

The general consensus was that Fundy was too mediocre of a demon to be worth any notice.

He'd never been seen doing anything appropriately horrible or failed spectacularly, so according to most of hell he didn't exist.

In truth, Fundy was about to prove tonight that he was much worse of a demon than they thought.

"Sorry I'm late, I forgot I cursed a major highway, and then I had to drive on that highway to get here, and-"

"Just take the kid.". The basket was passed to Fundy, who looked at it with fear and wonder.

Baby No. 1 didn't look like an antichrist (I mean, he was the only antichrist at this point and could only look like himself, but he didn't look like how one would expect an antichrist to look). He just looked like any one-day-old baby. Fundy tried to disguise how grateful he was about that. Maybe, just maybe, the plan could work.

He looked back up to Wilbur.

"So, what was the important demonic business?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, you said you had "important demonic business", and that's why you couldn't drive the kid yourself."

"Ah, yes. That important demonic business. Well, Fundy, that's for me to know and you to not know.". Wilbur shifted, hiding the Heathers tickets in his coat sleeve.

"Enjoy your drive!". With that, he teleported away from the graveyard. Schlatt shrugged, and continued eating protein powder out of the jar.

-----------

Fundy drove like a maniac down the highway, swerving off the road to avoid the cursed-induced traffic.

He'd pulled off hundreds of scams before, but they were all on the humans. He'd never scammed the forces of heaven and hell simultaneously before. He was pretty sure that was called "treason". Which was punishable by death if he got caught. This is the worst idea of my entire fucking existence.

As he sped down the road regretting his life choices, rain pouring down on the windshield, his co-conspirator teleported into the passenger seat.

"Hey, you ready to do something illegal?"

The executives in heaven had no idea what to make of Quackity.

They could hardly call him the worst angel when there was Schlatt running about drunk off his ass, and he was even good at his job most of the time. Even now, the executives couldn't quite pin down a time he'd directly broken a rule.

However, he had a habit of taking the rulebook, shaking it out, finding whatever loopholes existed, and using them to do whatever he pleased.

There wasn't a rule saying he couldn't wear yeezys and sunglasses to important board meetings.

There wasn't a rule saying that he couldn't try to seduce the archangels, that was implied at best.

And there wasn't a rule saying that he couldn't get attached to the human world. The higher-ups had never considered that anyone would, so it hadn't been written down in the paperwork.

Their mistake.

Here was the truth: Quackity didn't want the apocalypse to happen. If you spend 6,000 years in any place, how can you not care about it? Sure, humans are there and gone in the blink of an eye, but the things they make to show they were here can stay for centuries.

He knew too much history about the place to just stand back and let it get set on fire.

So, he'd searched through all of heaven for a collaborator. There was no one willing to help him there, their reactions ranging from "I'd love to help, but I don't want to get hellfire poured on my face" to "If you're insinuating what I think you are, I'll turn you in to get hellfire poured on your face".

So, he took the escalator down to the basement. It took him a while to find someone, even there, but eventually he met a familiar fox-faced demon, and a plan was hatched.

Why did Fundy join in on a dangerous scheme like this one?

Attention, mostly. Humans were the only ones to really acknowledge his existence, even if it was almost all negative attention. Which was fair. He did steal their things a lot.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Great.". Quackity looked into the basket containing Baby No.1, breathed a sigh of relief that he looked like a normal human, and revealed a cardboard box. Inside the cardboard box was Baby No. 2, wrapped in a green blanket.

When I say "Baby No. 2", know that I mean a quiet mortal child with wisps of light blond hair, born to a regular human that didn't want him.

"I found him on the side of the road.". The two of them sat in silence for a while at that, before Fundy brought up the plan again.

"So, we drop them both at St. Beryl's."

"Yeah."

"And then they think that this kid is the antichrist, and the antichrist is the kid."

"Yeah."

"And our bosses try to raise the kid and sway them to the dark side or whatever, while we raise the antichrist and keep them from destroying the world."

"Yeah."

"Um. Quick question."

"Yeah?"

"If we're putting them both on the doorstep at the same time, how do we know they won't think the antichrist is the antichrist and the kid is the kid?"

"....I didn't think about that.”. They pondered the problem together. Eventually, Fundy conjured a sharpie and wrote "antichrist, this side up" on the side of the cardboard box in bold letters.

"That should work. Also, you need to stop teleporting into my car while it's moving. You could fuse with the seats, and that would suck to clean up."

And so, Baby No. 1 and Baby No. 2 were dropped off on the doorstep of St. Beryl's Orphanage. It was harder than expected to say goodbye to Baby No. 2, but they managed.

The duo was somewhat confused by the third baby on the doorstep, who hadn't been put there by any of them, and actually just so happened to be dropped off at the wrong orphanage at the wrong time.

Baby No. 3 was in a red blanket, and when I say "Baby No. 3", know that I mean a human child that was currently doing what he would be doing for much of his life: Screaming at the top of his lungs.

It is assumed that he was born to humans since he was one, but the kid could have been dropped off by a galaxy for all we know.

All that we need to know is that fate had not favored Baby No. 3, and that would continue for a while.

And so, three babies were dropped off on the doorstep of an orphanage, sixteen years before the apocalypse.

--------

Quite a few people (and things that at least looked like people) were excited about this. It was supposed to be a secret that the antichrist was at St. Beryl's Orphanage, so obviously everyone from purgatory to Portland had heard the news.

The lobby was jam-packed with a few demons with extremely good disguises, far more demons with very bad disguises, a mafia-style group of angels, another mafia-style group of angels but they were pretending to be a book club for some convoluted reason, a few very lost ghosts who didn't even want to be there in the first place, the man who was going to burn the orphanage to the ground in a couple of hours, the dread Charlie Slimecicle, hassled orphanage staff, and, notably, the owners of two motorcycles in the parking lot.

The two motorcycles were a sickly hospital white and an empty-seeming black respectively, and their riders were lowkey famous (not that they liked to brag about it or anything).

Any and all apocalypse enthusiasts knew their names (or at least their titles), and once they met up with two more friends Doomsday would truly be underway.

But that party wouldn't be started for another sixteen years.

For now, only two out of the set of four were gathered, and tonight was less about the apocalypse than the drama and firsthand gossip to get. They sat in the corner, watching the chaos unfold with reflective eyes.

-----------

Now, someone would eventually have to adopt these babies. The antichrist would have to grow up among the mortals, and St. Beryl's Orphanage was always more of an apocalypse creating scheme than an orphanage to begin with, so they would have to find some unwitting soul to take Baby No. 2 and Baby No. 3 soon.

Thankfully for everyone involved, three humans that showed up that day ready to adopt, with varying degrees of dread.

The first was a man seemingly in his late thirties, wearing a green coat that could almost be considered a cloak.

The second was a young adult with sunglasses and an almost royal quality about them.

And the third was a sweet-looking young woman in a soft striped sweater, who clutched an ancient book tightly under her arm.

They were quickly hustled through the lobby by the head of the orphanage, who tried her best to keep anyone in the group from seeing anything odd happening around them (Which is a bit of a challenge when certain demons think that a fake mustache from a corner store is enough to look completely non-supernatural).

She rushed around from the tiny waiting room with the potential parents to the room with the babies to the stampede outside, internally wishing that she'd done what she'd planned in college and been a therapist instead of running an orphanage/doomsday cult.

All of the humans in the waiting room were understandably confused, but their questions were unheeded.

The three of them sat in silence for several minutes. When it became clear that no one would be coming to check on them, small talk was attempted.

Names were learned (The first parent went by the name Philza, while the second was named Eret, and the third Niki), the weather thoroughly discussed, and finally, the conversation turned to the inevitable:

"So, why are you here?". The question was asked by Eret, who seemed genuinely curious. Phil looked down from the clock he'd been watching, annoyed.

"To adopt a child. Why else?"

"I figured that, but what led you here? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I'm just trying to break the silence.". Phil continued staring at the wall, preparing his words.

Half an hour before

"You want me to what?"

Phil had been driving home when he got the call. If he really had a say in the matter, he would have sent that to voicemail in two seconds flat, but his caller wasn't the kind of person you could hang up on ("person" wasn't even accurate to him). The rain was falling down on the windshield, the traffic was abysmal, and apparently he was supposed to adopt a child.

"Listen, with all due respect, I owe you nothing anymore. I don't have to do missions for you, I don't have to kill for you, and I especially don't have to take care of a baby for sixteen years for you.". He nodded along as the other side of the call said his bit, before responding.

"Sixteen years is quick? Maybe to the likes of you it's quick, for me it's actually a sizeable chunk of time! I don't care that I have to 'just keep him alive-'". He was cut off, and he waited impatiently for his chance to speak again, which he got.

"You and I have gone our separate ways. Me and Technoblade are both in retirement, and there's no way in hell I'm adopting a child. That's my final word.".

The voice on the other side of the call spoke how he usually did: Methodical, calm, devoid of mercy. Mentioning Techno had been a mistake, and the conversation eased into detailed and pointed threats. Finally, he gave up.

"If I do this, you'll finally leave me and Techno alone?". An affirmative answer. Phil sighed, already weary of the experience.

"Fine. Screw you, but fine. I'll take your stupid project."

Current

Phil folded his arms, a scowl on his face.

"I'm just very paternal."

For some reason, Eret doubted that, but they nodded anyway.

"I decided I wanted to adopt a few months ago. I mean, I have the money for it, and there are so many kids without parents. I think I just wanted to do something about it, and try to give some kid a good childhood.". They laughed quietly under their breath.

"Sometimes I feel like something else put the idea in my head.". Phil and Eret looked towards Niki, expecting her to speak. She held her book close to her, fingers drumming on the cover.

"I've known for a while that I was going to adopt a baby today. St. Beryl's Orphanage, April 1st, the year I turn 19."

"How did you know?". Niki opened the book, re-reading the same familiar page.

"It's just fate."

-----------

Meanwhile, the two horsemen of the apocalypse were tired of just watching.

If they stayed any longer without doing anything, this trip wouldn't be worth the motorcycle fuel.

They rose from the seats in unison and slipped casually into the baby room. The head of the orphanage had been slumped against the wall, exhausted. However, when the duo entered the room, she leapt to her feet.

"Excuse me, no demons, no angels, nothing dead or dying, no refunds, no Charlie, and no one I don't want here is allowed in this room!". The one cloaked in black stepped forward, hands raised in a pacifying gesture and a kind smile on his face.

"Well, I'm none of those things! My name's BadBoyHalo, but most people are kind of formal and call me Famine.". That last bit of the sentence was accompanied by a sheepish eye roll, as though to say I know it's silly, but I can't help being well-known.

"My friend over there is George. What's your name?". The head of the orphanage tried very hard to feel suspicious. There were two strangers in the most important room there, she should have her guard up as far as possible. Yet, for some reason, she couldn't feel any distrust for the Famine in front of her.

"My name is Puffy. Why are you here?"

"Us? We're just here for a look. Right, George?". George hadn't really been interested in the conversation, although it was hard to tell what he was thinking about behind his white sunglasses. He raised his head, looking bored.

"Yeah. Sure.".

Puffy could see several concerning things about letting two horsemen of the apocalypse take a quick look at the antichrist, but she couldn't quite think clearly.

She tried to focus on the current situation, but all she could think about was how much she wanted a good night's sleep, and a vacation, and a different life. Bad's smile remained constant, cheerful and understanding.

"Is this the job you want, Puffy?". She shook her head, eyes glassy.

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be a hero. Help out people who needed helping. I really have no idea how I got here.". Bad nodded.

"Well, Puffy, you seem tired. There's a lot of muffin-heads outside making a racket, and it seems like a lot to deal with. If you want to just go upstairs and take a quick nap, we can handle things for you!". Puffy quietly agreed and walked out of the room in a daze. Already, she could tell something was wrong, but she felt sapped of the strength to care.

As her head hit the pillow, she made a vow to herself that if she came back and the kids were harmed in any way, she'd personally bring hell to their doorsteps.

-----------

"Bad, did you seriously hypnotize a woman so you could hold a baby?"

"Not just a baby, George! Three babies!"

"That makes it much better, yes.”

"You're just upset that they like me more.". Bad bounced around the babies, cooing over them.

"Who's the cutest little antichrist? Who's the tiniest omen of doom? You are!". He picked up Baby No. 2 and tapped his nose.

"Boop!". George stood there quietly.

"He's going to be mad if he finds out we came here."

"Exactly, if he finds out. Besides, he needs us."

"I know he needs me. You, on the other hand, are kind of on thin ice."

"Calm yourself. Hold a baby.". Bad picked up Baby No. 2 from his box, where antichrist: this side up was clearly visible, and handed him to George. George held the green-blanketed baby, staring intently into his eyes.

Baby No. 3 started screaming once more, and Bad ran over to pick him up and shush him.

"Aww, it's okay. You're not going to die for another 16 years, you have nothing to scream about now!". Baby No. 3 seemed to take in his words for a few seconds, before shrieking even louder.

The door was flung open by the ominous angelic book club, who tried to shove their way to the child in George's arms. Bad sighed, exasperated, and shifted into a more monstrous form.

"Seems like I have to do some security work. Can you hold this one too?". Without waiting for an answer, he passed Baby No. 3 to George and walked out into the hallway, using his hollow iron scales to push otherworldly paparazzi aside.

After the first act of Heathers, Wilbur slipped out of the theater. It wasn't a particularly good production, and he didn't see the point in staying.

He decided that if he wasn't going to do anything else, he should probably teleport to St. Beryl's and do his job.

The orphanage was even more chaotic than before, and he had to light one or two minor demons on fire to clear his way.

Finally, he reached the room with the antichrist. The room was mostly empty, except for one basket in the corner, and a familiar stranger holding two babies and panicking slightly.

The stranger turned to face Wilbur, and he realized who he was speaking to. He'd never met a horseman of the apocalypse before, but he'd heard of their reputations and seen them from afar.

"Pestilence. Pleasure to meet you.". Pestilence leaned nonchalantly in the doorway with a smile, which was quite a feat for someone holding two sobbing children.

"Please, call me George."

"George. Interesting name, for someone with your position."

“What's wrong with it?"

"It's fine, your colleagues have just mostly had ridiculous names. I mean, who in their right mind names themself Sapnap? No offense, don't discorporate me."

"Well, relatively speaking, I'm pretty new to the job. Stick around another 500 years, and who knows what will happen?"

"With your name, or with discorporating me?"

"Both, I guess.". Wilbur checked his pocket watch (it had been broken sometime in the 1910s, and he hadn't had the time to get it fixed, but he still liked the idea of checking a pocket watch).

"Fun as this conversation is, I was thinking that I should be the one to deliver the child to his parent.". George opened his mouth, probably to say no, but the sound of the babies crying increased. He stopped, irritated, and nodded.

"Why not? It's not like I actually work here."

"Excellent. Just give me the antichrist, and I'll be out of your hair. Unless you want to meet up again after this-"

"I'm good."

"Alright.". George held Baby No. 2 and Baby No. 3 side by side, as if weighing them. He titled his head from the child wrapped in a green blanket to the child wrapped in a red blanket. Finally, he handed the one in red to Wilbur.

"I'm pretty sure this is the antichrist. I'm a bit colorblind.". The sentence was accompanied by an airy laugh and a small grin, and Wilbur smiled back before leaving the room with Baby No. 3.

-----------

Phil was going to murder him.

The guy couldn't die, but he was going to murder him anyway. Of all the petty things, he had to threaten Philza and his loved ones just for him to sit in a room for hours for absolutely no reason.

Was this that creature's sick idea of a prank?

Five seconds before he was going to storm out, agreement be damned, there was a polite knock on the door. He got up to open it, and Baby No. 3 lay on the floor, silent and peacefully sleeping for the first time in his short existence.

Phil shrugged, deciding not to question it.

He gently picked the baby up from the ground, and headed home.

(If he'd been looking more intently, he would have noticed 1) A certain demon sitting cross-legged on the ceiling, having decided that he probably shouldn't come face to face with someone he was supposed to spy on, and 2) His closest friend hiding behind a newspaper in the lobby, ready for some good old fashioned arson).

-----------

Anyway, once the antichrist was safely adopted (or so they thought), all that was left was to find a place to put all of these bonus babies. George picked up Baby No. 1 and Baby No. 2, and headed for the waiting room, where Eret and Niki regarded each other as friends already.

Unfortunately, Quackity decided that he had some meddling left in him for the evening, and he decided to make sure everything was going according to plan. He teleported into the orphanage seamlessly, folding his wings into his coat and looking over his sunglasses.

George strolled into the waiting room.

"Pick a child, any child. I don't have all day.". Eret tilted their head in confusion.

"Isn't there paperwork, or an application process, or something official we're supposed to-"

"Do you want the kid or not?". Niki reached for Baby No. 2, and Eret shrugged and took Baby No. 1.

Quackity watched the process take place through the keyhole.

This seemed alright. They both seemed like non-horrible humans, and he'd be fine watching over either of them for the 16 years. Then, he noticed the book under the young woman's arm.

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. First edition, which should be impossible, unless she's some kind of descendant. And I'm not dealing with lying to a witch.

He tried to remember which kid was the actual antichrist and which was the fraud.

The green one and the blue one were both important. The blue one was the fake, and the green one was the real deal, right? Or was the green one the fake, and the blue one fake? Wasn't there a red one at one point? Fuck.

At the last moment, Quackity decided that he couldn't just stand still and risk it. He did the first thing that came to mind and killed the lights.

The lightbulbs exploded, leaving everyone in darkness. In the chaos, he telekinetically switched the babies.

Alright. No witches today, thanks. I'll just follow the other one home from afar, and everything will be fine.

----------

Later that night, when the orphanage was almost empty, a man set his newspaper aside and crept through the building.

He lit Molotov cocktails with precision and chucked them wherever a fireball seemed needed. Flames weren't his usual method of destruction, but he had to get creative sometimes.

His plan had been slowed down by Phil showing up at this "orphanage", but once he left the game was back on.

If anyone wanted to start the apocalypse and take away everything the two of them had worked for, they'd have to go through Technoblade.

The entire building was consumed and burnt to the ground. The arson case would remain unsolved, like most of his work, and Techno hadn't seen any potential casualties that would make people want to investigate.

Sadly, there was one person left in the building when it burned, and she couldn't wake up from her dreams of the sea and a sword in her hands to smell the smoke.

----------

Wilbur followed Philza home unnoticed, disguised as wisps of shadow and cigarette ash.

In lieu of a cradle, Phil temporarily arranged a drawer as a bed for Baby No. 3 and set him down. Once the baby seemed safe and calm, he left to collapse on the couch.

Wilbur frowned. Where's his name? Names were important. They could be bargained with, broken, foretell fate, and be used as a lifeline if need be. You didn't just leave a child without a name.

This had to be remedied. He conjured a post-it note and a pen, and snuck over to the drawer considering the merits of different names.

Kraken? Should I name him Kraken? No, he doesn't seem like a Kraken. The child stirred once, yawning, bright blue eyes nearly opening.

His name is Tommy.

The realization hit Wilbur all at once. Tommy wasn't a particularly demonic name, but it just felt too right to pick anything else.

So, he wrote "Tommy" on the post-it note and stuck it on the blanket, hoping that Phil would think it had been there the whole time.

The baby grabbed his finger as he pulled back his hand, not letting go. Wilbur's heart wasn't melted at all. Not a bit.

"I'm going to need that back, Tommy.". Carefully, he took his finger out of the tiny hand's grasp.

"It's very nice to meet you. My name's Wilbur. I'm your guardian, Tommy, and you're going to burn down the world one day."

-----------

At the same time, Quackity followed Eret back to their home (although mansion might be more accurate. Was the chandelier really necessary?).

They'd been planning for this for months, and anything that Quackity could worry about had already been taken care of five minutes ago. Baby No. 2 was even named quickly and with care.

The angel breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing evil could be named "Tubbo", right?

Eret disappeared to a nearby room, allowing Quackity the chance to formally meet him and Fundy's charge. He teleported down to the cradle and contemplated the kid.

"Hey, I know that this has been a long day, but I'm Quackity. Me and my friend are going to be looking after you for a few years, because Tubbo? It's up to you to save the world. Good luck."

-----------

At the same time, Niki went back to her home.

The rain finally stopped, and she put the Nice and Accurate Prophecies back on the shelf to hold Baby No. 1, the real prophesied end of days.

I don't know if I'm ready for this. I don't know anything about being a mother, or stopping the apocalypse, but I'm expected to do both.

The child opened his eyes. They were the one usual thing about an otherwise average baby: One eye was a fiery red, while one was a leafy green. They vaguely reminded Niki of a forest fire.

She set up the cradle and cast various charms, determined to get this right.

She was so focused on protecting her son (for he was her son, now) that she didn't notice a skeletal green hand reach out of the shadows for her book and cut out select pages and phrases with a knife of bone.

Niki gently put her child down, already full of intense care for him.

You're going to be okay. I don't know about heaven or hell or any of those idiots, but I can promise you one thing, Ranboo: I'll make sure you're safe. I swear it.

Hope you enjoyed!

#dream smp #dsmp #good omens au #fan fiction #writing #beware the drafts of march #ranboo #wilbur soot #schlatt #fundy #quackity #badboyhalo #tommyinnit #georgenotfound #philza minecraft

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beyondconfessor · 4 years ago

Text

The Infernal Contract [13/16]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: It would be so easy to stay, Zelda realised. Wait it out, but she couldn't. If there were a chance in Heaven that she could save Sabrina from such a fate, she would take it.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

Zelda sipped at the cup of tea, watching as Hilda shuffled around the kitchen. She pulled down the biscuit container and began setting half a dozen out on a plate, before looking over her shoulder at Zelda.

"You've got a look," Hilda said, with an ill-advised chuckle before wringing her hands. "Has he done something?"

"Honestly, sister. Not everything is about Faustus."

"Well, no, I suppose not." Finally, she sat down at the kitchen table, setting the plate of biscuits before her. "You do look quite worried, which is making me worried."

"It's Sabrina," Zelda said. Before pausing to sip at her tea. She still didn't feel it was right to say it out loud. Lately, there was a horrible feeling that someone was watching her. Since Faustus had taken Lilith's ring, since she'd gone down those tunnels of the mines, Zelda felt as if she needed to keep looking over her shoulder.

"What about Sabrina?" Hilda urged.

"There's a prophecy," Zelda began, feeling the anxiety gnaw at her belly. It seemed like a rather large can of worms to open, but so be it. She couldn't speak about it with Lilith, despite how much she wanted to.

When had the woman become her confidant?

Zelda shifted her thoughts away, focusing on the issue at hand. She began by first advising of the footnote prophecy––while misleading her sister to think she'd found it herself––before going on to explain the mosaic found in the mines, fabricating a lie that she'd overheard the children speaking of it.

Hilda paled, but she kept her lips pressed until Zelda finished speaking. "Well," she said. "I mean, you always thought she was special."

"Yes, well, I had thought she was special as Edward was special, not prophetically brought to bring the end of times." She placed her teacup on the saucer louder than intended. Pulling her hand away, Zelda felt her right thumb reach for her ring finger, only to find it empty.

She needed to find that ring.

"What do we do?" Hilda asked her.

Zelda drew in a breath, feeling the strain in her lungs, "I don't know," she admitted.

"Oh Zelds, is this why you've been so...?"

Zelda looked at her sister, watching the woman's lips press together as she began bumbling around her words, circling over the topic, but she knew what the subtext was in Hilda's flustered speech. Was the prophecy the cause for her distance and agitation? It wasn't, and once again, she felt a need to drum her fingers against the wood of the table or wring her hands or have a cigarette.

Instead, she lifted the cup of tea and sipped the hot beverage.

Lilith had left her at the entrance of the mines. The two of them had glanced at each other. Worldlessly vowing to not speak of what had transpired, and yet Zelda felt it like a heavy stone was sitting in the pit of her stomach.

It'd shattered her view of the Dark Lord. Centuries of devotion now wasted, making her feel all the more idiotic. And worse, underneath all of that had been her promise to follow Lilith––rejected.

It would ruin you. Lilith had looked terrified at that moment, desperate for her to understand. Could it be that the witch cared for her? No, that would be ridiculous. What could she offer the witch that a thousand lovers before hadn't?

"Zelds?"

She looked up at her sister, realising that she'd missed some question. "Pardon?"

Hilda sighed. "I said, what do we do? We can't just sit and wait."

"No, we can't. The final perversion is to be suicide. Thankfully, Sabrina has enough self-preservation to avoid that. But I admit, I am afraid, sister, you know as well as I that prophecies always find a way. What if I'm missing something?" Her hand shook as she felt her eyes prick.

Hilda's hand came over hers, holding it warmly with her soft smile. "We'll figure it out. Isn't that what you always say? We're Spellmans," she teased. "Whatever this is, we'll save Sabrina, keep Him locked to Hell, and you can go back to your life."

Except it would be without Lilith. And what would happen to her if His plan failed?

Zelda didn't mean to get so upset, but it was all unravelling before her. She could feel her throat swelling with emotions, with her fear for Sabrina, her family, and Lilith. It felt as if she was balancing on the tip of a sword, and whichever way she stepped, someone was going to get hurt.

"Zelds?" Hilda called, squeezing at her hand. "What is it, tell me?"

She had unintentionally found herself wrapped in the woman's thrall, and she couldn't even bring herself to say anything to her sister.

Zelda paused, closing her eyes until she felt the swell of emotion cease. "Nothing," she said, pulling her hand away to clear her throat. She blinked and felt her expression smooth back into a façade of confidence. "You're right. We're Spellmans. We'll sort this out."

Hilda gave an inquisitive look but smiled at her nonetheless. "Right, well, we just need to figure out how not to let the prophecy happen, right?"

It was easier said than done. Zelda looked at her hands before lifting her head, realising how quiet the house was. "Where's Sabrina?"

"Oh! Ah...I'm not sure. She said something about seeing her friends."

Perhaps it was time Zelda admitted that she knew what was going on to them all. She felt her skin crawl at the idea, but the charade had gone on for long enough. "Well, we should summon her and Ambrose first. We'll all need to be involved in this." Zelda pushed back and then thought of Prudence. She needed to search for her, too, ensure she and her siblings were safe.

Ambrose was easy enough to convene. He came and sat down at the table as they called to Sabrina with difficulty. Briefly, Zelda filled him in on the prophecy as Hilda tried to send for their niece. She'd only informed him of what laid in the mines before Hilda admitted she couldn't find Sabrina, let alone summon her home.

"Let me do it," Zelda said, stepping back in the kitchen to give herself enough room to project her psyche to her niece.

Briefly, Zelda found herself projecting to the Greendale woods, finding herself surrounded by the tall trees, but if Sabrina was there, she could not see her.

She brought herself back to her body and frowned at Hilda, who shrugged in return. It wasn't uncommon for projections to fail if you didn't have a clear idea where someone was likely to be. The Greendale town was large enough that trying just to say 'somewhere here' could lead the magic to just pop up in a general area of where the intended person's magic had touched. But their familial connection with Sabrina had previously been enough in the past.

"Maybe we should contact one of her friends?" Hilda offered. "She might be with one of them."

Zelda went to agree before noticing that Ambrose was sitting at the table with sudden agitated energy. Pausing, she turned to inspect him, watching at his eyes purposefully danced away.

"Out with it," she demanded.

"I––" he began, mouth opening as he began to stutter around whatever lie was on his tongue.

"Now," Zelda demanded.

"Sabrina and I may have tried to complete a Mandrake spell," he admitted, dropping his eyes.

"You what? What on earth gave you that idea?"

"We...knew of the prophecy, Auntie. And Sabrina was terrified of becoming the Dark Lord's puppet, so she thought that if she rid herself of the magic, she'd become useless to him. We didn't think it had worked, but if it had...it would make sense as to why you can't find her."

"Because there's two of her," Hilda said. "It would make––"

"Of all the reckless things!" Zelda shouted, watching as her nephew flinched away. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?" Zelda felt the room shake before she closed her eyes and settled the anger. It was done, she needed to move on. "Has she––did she murder the mandrake-self?"

"No, no, we woke up, and the mandrake was still a root. We thought it hadn't worked, but..." he trailed off.

"When?"

"Yesterday," Ambrose said. "I tried to warn her against it, but she was adamant. She would have done it without me or someone else, Auntie."

"By trying to help her, you may have done the very thing that you were trying to avoid," Zelda spat. "Why didn't you come to me?"

Ambrose opened his mouth, but no explanation rose. He closed it again, looking defeated. Zelda already knew the answer.

Sabrina didn't trust her. And in turn, he didn't either, despite everything that she'd done for this family.

Zelda turned on her heel, walking out of the room. If Sabrina hasn't murdered her self, then there was still time. She could hear Hilda and Ambrose chasing after her, but she didn't have time to deal with their ideas. With a wave of her hands, she teleported from the Spellman Mortuary to the front steps of Lilith's home.

The wash of magic spun her, but as she settled, grounding herself, Zelda raised her hand and rapped her knuckles on the front door.

When the door opened, Zelda didn't wait. She launched into an explanation of Sabrina's stupidity to rid herself of magic, as summed up by Ambrose, before explaining that she couldn't find her.

"If she knows the Mandrake is out there, she'll finalise the prophecy and––"

"Come inside," Lilith said, interrupting her. Zelda paused, feeling the agitation subside from the injection. Come inside, why would she come inside? They had urgent business to complete. "Zelda," Lilith spoke, a small smile on her lips. "Why did you come to me?"

"Because I can't find her, and you're-" the most powerful witch to exist, Zelda felt the words catch in her throat, they rose and fell in her mouth, laced thick with a deeper meaning. "You're Lilith."

"I am. Mother of Demons, Satan's Concubine, the Dawn of Doom, first wife to Adam and so-on we could go. The only title that remains important here is that I am the Dark Lord's. Whatever you want me to do, I can not go against His will. Not when it seems His plan is coming to fruition."

Zelda's chest tightened. "So, you're just going to let Him destroy us?"

"He won't. You mean too much to Sabrina. He wouldn't risk alienating her unless He thought the risk outweighed the reward."

Zelda felt her mouth part. Trying to find arguments in her head shatter. Lilith wouldn't help her. Couldn't. "Find her, and I'll stop her from completing the task," she decided, looking up at the woman. "Just tell me where she is. Please. You can have whatever else you want from me, but I will not let my niece become some child-bride!"

Lilith smiled at her. It was honest and soft and mournful. Zelda didn't care if the woman pitied her; she needed to save Sabrina.

"Please, Lilith."

Lilith reached out, taking Zelda's hands in hers and tugging her forward until she'd passed the threshold.

The door shut with a click, and then the woman's lips were on hers. Soft and pliant. There was a desperation to it, a hope that compelled Zelda to respond, melting into her until it heated, and Lilith's hands were running through her hair, and Zelda was clutching at Lilith's waist, holding her firm to ensure she was real.

Zelda's back hit the door, their kiss breaking as they stared at each other, a breath apart.

It would be so easy to stay, Zelda realised. Wait it out, but she couldn't. If there were a chance in Heaven that she could save Sabrina from such a fate, she would take it.

Lilith stared at her, her hand coming up to cup her jaw as she brushed her thumb across her cheek. Zelda leaned into the touching, wished it didn't hurt as much as did.

"Stay with me," Lilith said to her. "You can be mine in Hell while He rules over the Mortal Realm."

"Is this your price?"

Lilith's face hardened, "It's me asking you to forget your fool's errand and stay with me."

"Lilith," she whispered, feeling herself tug at the choice. Had she not once dreamt of such a placement when she was young and had naive ideals of romance? "I won't be yours, or anyone's to own. You know that."

"We could guide Sabrina, teach her how to rule. I promised you that once."

Were they both to look at the surface of the opportunity, if they pretended that the Dark Lord was merciful, then the chance to run away to Hell may have been tempting enough. But Zelda didn't need to say anything for Lilith's hands to drop from hers, eyes closing with defeat. "She's near the clearing. Where her baptism occurred."

"Thank you," Zelda said, giving her a last look before she exited from the house.

Zelda rushed through to the clearing, pushing through the brambles and vines that coiled out at her. The forest was pulling her back, determined to keep her from whatever was occurring.

She tugged at the vines, ripping them away from her, and finally made it to where Sabrina's baptism had occurred.

There was Sabrina, and in her lap was the other, Mandrake Sabrina.

She was too late.

Zelda looked from her to Nicholas Scratch, who stood at the stone altar, eyes wide open with relief as if this had solved everything, and Zelda felt as if her world had finally cracked apart.

"Aunt Zee?" Sabrina questioned, looking up at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to prevent this, but I can see that it's too late."

Sabrina sniffed, wiping the tears from her face as she gently placed the Mandrake self on the ground, closing the eyelids, so she at least looked peaceful. "I had to do it. I know you're angry, but I had to. I had to get rid of my magic. There's a prophecy and-"

"And the final act for it to come to fulfilment was a suicide," Zelda said, walking over to where her niece shakily rose to her feet. "Sabrina-" she paused as thunder cracked from the lightning striking down behind her, onto the altar. There was a pulse, and then magic reverberated through the air. Even Nicholas looked askance as his eyes went from the stone to the mandrake Sabrina and finally to Zelda, feeling the dark magic swell against their psyche.

Zelda grew nauseous at the touch. It was oily, infernal magic that all witches and warlocks had felt at least once in their life when they signed the Book of the Beast.

"But––no," Sabrina insisted. "No, I did the right thing. I got rid of my magic. The prophecy can't come true because I'm mortal now! Auntie, I'm mortal, I did all of this to...to..."

"I know," Zelda whispered, bringing her niece into her arms. The moment her arms went around to hold her, she felt the sobs shudder through Sabrina.

"I'm mortal. I did all of this to save them. Save everyone. I'm mortal!" Zelda held her for a few moments, feeling the guilt weigh heavily on her self as Sabrina repeated over and over again. And finally, when the sobs softened, Zelda pulled back and looked to Nicholas Scratch.

"Let's go home."

----------

Zelda handed a glass of whiskey to Sabrina because, at this point, what did mortal laws matter? Before she took a sip of her drink, letting the warmth of it slip down her throat, through to her belly. It was mid-afternoon, over two hours had passed since lightning struck the alter.

The room was silent. Nicholas sat beside her niece. Ambrose said on the armchair, and Hilda stood beside her, looking at the mess.

No one had spoken since they'd deciphered the different stories from Sabrina to Nicholas to Zelda. Now they looked around each other, drinking in the information and allowing the weight of it to settle.

Zelda felt her hands shake as she thought of what would happen next. Lucifer would walk the earth (in His angelic form). Sabrina would marry Him, or rule beside Him, or whatever He had planned. The Mortal Realm would go to war and inevitably lose against the Dark Lord, becoming His new kingdom as the demons flooded over every street.

"How did you know?" Sabrina asked, breaking the silence. "How did you know about the prophecy?"

Zelda brought the glass to her lips, finishing the contents in a single shot before she set it down on the table. Lying was what had got her into this mess, and yet she knew if she told the truth, Sabrina would never look at her the same. None of them.

"Mr Scratch," she said, starting in the middle of her story as if was the beginning. "He came to the house with a book of prophecy detailing what was to happen. I erased his memory––not realising the consequences he would face––and tried to find a resolution while keeping you ignorant." She gave him a brief, apologetic look.

"Why would you do such a thing?" Sabrina asked.

"Why did you keep the initial prophecy from me?" Zelda asked, raising her brow. "We were trying to stop it from occurring. I thought that keeping you in the dark of the exact premises of the prophecy would prevent you from completing it. I was wrong."

Sabrina's jaw clenched, but the anger softened, likely realising it didn't matter either way.

"Can you undo it?" Nicholas asked.

Zelda walked over and reached out, touching the boy's head. She found were her spell laid and pulled at the thread, undoing the woven magic. Stepping back, she looked down at Nicholas with a raised brow. "Did that work?"

Nicholas frowned, his brow pinching. "I'm not sure," he admitted.

"It will likely take time," she said, stepping back to where she'd been previously. "I am sorry, Nicholas. I had thought it was the best thing at the time to keep everyone safe."

Nicholas looked away, frowning to himself.

"So, Auntie," Ambrose said. "Why was suicide the last thing Sabrina needed to do? In terms of prophecy, I would have expected self-sacrifice rather than suicide. A proper blood spilling."

"It's not a sacrifice if she knows she can be resurrected," Zelda said. "And suicide was the final act because it was the last of the Nazareth perversions. She'd already done everything else, as I would understand."

"What do you mean?" Sabrina asked. "I didn't do anything knowing it would unleash Hell on Earth."

"No, but the exorcism, curing blindness, going to mortal purgatory, raising the dead, they're all perversions of the Nazareth's holy acts," she explained. "Knowing it or not, you did every act of your own accord."

"No, I didn't," Sabrina said, her face shifting into fury. Zelda realised her mistake too late as her niece's anger became focused on the one person Zelda wished it hadn't. "All of those acts, every last one of them was guided by Ms Wardwell. She had me complete the perversions. She's working for the Dark Lord."

Zelda pressed her lips shut, willing for another drink to appear. She shouldn't have said anything.

"We can't let her get away with this," Sabrina said, looking around at the room with sudden confidence in her voice that had Zelda panicking, knowing where it was leading to. "We have to-"

"What, Sabrina?" Zelda snapped, breaking the chain of thought before anyone else rallied behind her. "If she's working for Him, what will you do? Right now, you're about to be married off to the Dark Lord. It doesn't matter what Lilith has done. We need to focus on protecting you. Saving you." Zelda drew back, and then realised her mistake, feeling the words claw at her throat.

Unholy Hell.

"Lilith?" Sabrina echoed. "What do you mean, Lilith?"

Zelda drew a breath, feeling the room turn to face her with sudden interest. "No," she said, though it was a ridiculous response. "I meant nothing by it. It was just a slip."

"Auntie?" Ambrose questioned softly. "Do you know something we don't?"

"Aunt Zee," Sabrina hissed, pushing to her feet. "Are you working for the Dark Lord, too?"

Zelda felt panic claw at her chest as she took a step backward. "Absolutely not!"

"I mean, you cursed Nick, and you've been strange these last few weeks. Since Rome, in fact. You and Father Blackwood...you're both working for the Dark Lord and Ms Wardwell?"

"No, it's not that at all!" she defended. "Sabrina, I am not working for the Dark Lord, or with Faustus. I've only ever-"

"Then tell me what's going on," she said, fury growing in her. "Because right now, you look pretty guilty, and I think we all know something has been going on."

"Auntie," Ambrose asked. His voice was warm and calm, and Zelda looked to him, hoping he would be a voice of reason. "Have you been...having an affair with the Dark Lord?"

Sabrina's nose wrinkled, staring at her with unveiled disgust. "That's why you were so strange after your wedding night. You and the Dark Lord- I mean, I heard rumours but-"

"No!" Zelda panicked. "No, not the Dark Lord. I swear it. He has nothing to do with this."

"But you have been having an affair?"

Zelda drew in a breath. Every part of her wanted to run, but if she did, she knew it would only further concrete the idea of guilt. Splaying her hand on her stomach, she bit her tongue and closed her eyes, finding herself recalling the familiar prayer for strength.

"I struck a deal, an infernal deal. But it had nothing to do with you or anyone else. It was just a simple transaction between two consenting adults."

"Zelda," her sister whispered, making her horror known. "Did you promise your soul to the Dark Lord?"

"For the last time, it wasn't with the Dark Lord!" she said.

"It was with me," Lilith said, standing in the doorway beside Zelda. Sabrina rose. As did Ambrose and Nicholas Scratch, moving to defensive positions. A defensive barrier rose between them, but Lilith tilted her head, staring at Zelda. "I bet you wish you'd taken up my offer now."

Zelda narrowed her eyes, disliking the woman's choice to flirt with her. It was an inopportune moment, and she didn't find it cute.

"What offer?" Sabrina demanded.

Lilith smirked. "Nothing of your concern. That's between your dear Aunt and me," she said, giving a meaningful look to Zelda.

"Lilith," she warned.

"You're Lilith?" Sabrina inquired. "Why...?" her brows pressed together, and then Zelda saw the moment it clicked. "You're screwing the Dark Lord's mistress?"

Lilith's eyes opened wide with mock shock. "Such vulgar language. Honestly, Zelda, I thought you were teaching her the proper etiquette of being a young witch?"

Zelda could feel her frustration rising and yet knew the woman's cauldron stirring was due to their current situation. They were all afraid. And if Lilith was here, then Zelda knew it was for one reason only.

She looked to Lilith and watched as the woman's eyes softened in an apology, her expression otherwise perfectly neutral. It confirmed Zelda's fears, the Dark Lord had summoned her here to take Sabrina, and now she must play the obedient servant.

Zelda felt her mouth dry as her heart sank. The last few weeks had flown by, and Zelda felt herself wishing she'd spent more time speaking to Lilith. They were on the precipice of doom, and all she craved from Lilith was a few more hours.

Maybe she cared more than she thought.

"Gross," Sabrina said as looked between the two of them, her face twisting in the same disgust as she had before at the idea of the Dark Lord, which Zelda took personal offence to. Lilith was far more an attractive option. At least she wasn't trying to make some claim over Sabrina.

"If the deal wasn't about Sabrina," Nicholas asked, "then what deal did you two make?"

Zelda looked to Lilith, who looked back at her, her smirk only growing wide with mischief at the current situation. "Shall I tell them?" she asked, "Or will you?"

"Honestly," Zelda said, folding her arms and looking away from the woman. "It's nothing interesting and completely unrelated to our situation, so perhaps we should direct focus on-"

"No," Sabrina said. "I want to know."

"Believe me, you don't," Zelda said.

"Tell me."

"Your Aunt," Lilith said, apparently having enough of the back and forth, "wanted more power. I wanted...well, let's just say I quite enjoyed crashing the pre-wedding evening and decided that I wanted her all for myself."

Zelda looked away from her family, feeling her face burn at the sudden focus. Though she wasn't one to feel ashamed of engaging in sexual acts, it was another thing to have it aired out like laundry in front of others. Whatever acts she participated with Lilith should have remained between the two of them.

"But she's married," Sabrina said.

Lilith rolled her eyes, looking to Zelda with a pointed stare. There was a brief, shared moment between them. Both of them knowing that Zelda had about as much interest in Faustus as anyone else in that room.

Zelda looked away and raised her eyebrow at Sabrina. "You should know better than most that monogamy isn't something most witches stick to."

Sabrina's mouth fell agape, and Zelda sighed, looking away.

"If we're all done with my sex life, can we move to the problem at hand?"

Sabrina's eyes narrowed to Lilith, "As if she's not apart of the problem?"

Admittedly, there was a lot of catching up to do with that regard, and Zelda wasn't sure where to begin.

"Oh, no," Lilith said. "She's quite right to be upset." Turning to Sabrina, she reached out a hand, as if to compel her to follow, "The Dark Lord's summoned you. You will need to come with me."

"I certainly will not!"

"You will," Lilith said. "Because if you don't, He'll come for you and destroy everything and everyone in his path. It won't be pretty, believe me."

Sabrina paused, twisting her face before she conceited stepping forward, "All right," she said as if agreeing to a Sunday Lunch.

Zelda turned her head sharply, a protest rising as a cacophony rose across the room as everyone but Lilith and Sabrina, objected to her leaving.

Turning on her heel, Sabrina looked around at them. "I have to face Him."

"She's right," Lilith said, raising her eyes to Zelda's. There was no promise of safekeeping, and it only caused the agitation to grow in Zelda's stomach. The idea of her niece, facing the Dark Lord alone. There were too many unspeakable actions that could occur.

"Sabrina, be rational," Zelda urged. "You are no match against the Dark Lord."

"At least let me come," Nicholas said.

Lilith's eyes rose to him, a strange, knowing smile on her lips. "If you wish." Before turning to Sabrina. "You can bring your familiar too if you so desire."

Sabrina looked to where Salem sat, curled up in the corner of the room on a chair. The familiar lifted his head, mewling softly as all eyes turned to him. For a moment, Zelda wanted to interject herself and follow Sabrina, but she knew Lilith wouldn't allow it.

Walking over, she picked up the cat and placed him into Sabrina's arms. "Whatever you think of me," she said. "I would never turn on you. Everything I did was with this family's safety in mind." She paused before standing up straight, holding back the anxiety that twisted inside of her. "Now, come home safely. Please. If not for me, then for your Aunt Hilda and Ambrose."

Sabrina looked at her, a strange mix of emotion in her eyes as Lilith placed her arm around her and Nicholas' shoulders. Once again, the woman looked into her eyes, a soft nod, a promise to at least try. And then they disappeared.

Zelda pressed a hand to her mouth, moving to a seat as she sat down. There was still much to worry about, afterall Prudence was still missing. The Dark Lord had returned to his celestial form, and the future was uncertain. She had no idea what would happen to Sabrina but wished only for her safety.

"What now?" Ambrose asked.

Zelda looked up at him, her heart beating fast in her chest as nausea twisted in her belly. As much as she wanted to believe there was hope, she felt very lost in what their next move should be.

They could ward the house, but what good would that do them? Lilith could still bypass it, and they couldn't stay in there forever. Eventually, they would need supplies.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know."

Hilda and Ambrose both looked to her at a loss of words, before Ambrose made some excuse to rush off to read up on books and Hilda just looked to her. "Zelda, why didn't you say anything?"

She looked to her sister's face, feeling her throat swell at the much-too empathic expression. "Hilda, I'm already buried in enough guilt. I don't need to be reminded of my failings. If I could take it back, I would never have stopped Nicholas. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe Sabrina would never have..." she trailed off, holding back the sob that rose. She wouldn't cry. Not over this. There was too much to do.

"Yes, well, that. But I mean...why didn't you tell me about...the deal you made."

Ah, Zelda realised as she blinked away the tears. Of course, her sister would focus on the hidden truths between them. "It was no one's concerns but mine."

"It seems that you...maybe...care for her?"

Zelda shook her head, laughing. "Of course I do. I've worshipped her since our Mother first read the Satanic bible to us." How could she not? A woman who fled the garden, fled paradise, in pursuit of her power. Who scavaged the wastelands, survived them for years even before the Dark Lord rose her up. The first witch, forged out of spite and determination to survive without the False God's grace.

How could she not worship her, desire her? She was everything Zelda admired in witch kind.

Hilda gave her a knowing smile, reading more in-depth into the adoration than she should. "Since your wedding?" she inquired.

"Hilda, forgive me, but I do not wish to discuss this with you or anyone for that matter."

"Oh, yes, sorry," Hilda said. "Well, at least now everything's out in the open."

"Before our doom," Zelda said. She sighed, feeling a headache grow. "Sister, will you help me with something before Sabrina returns?"

"Of course."

"Prudence has been missing, and I'm...concerned that Faustus has done something. I've provided as much protection as I could, but it's been a few days, and she hasn't returned from whatever ghastly mission he's sent her on."

"Well, there are a few location spells we can use. How about I put a spot of tea on, and we can begin with the basics?"

"Thank you." She paused, looking at Hilda. "Truly. Thank you."

#lilith #zelda spellman #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic #morgan writes #morgans fics

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bethagain · 5 years ago

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I wasn’t actually planning on this, but somehow I’ve been sucked into @drawlight‘s Good Omens advent calendar fic challenge. I was watching all the mistletoe fics go by, and while the many first-kiss fics are fluffy and lovely, my genfic-loving self couldn’t resist putting a different spin on things. No kisses here, but things do get a little schmoopy by the end. Also on AO3.

----

The Dose Makes the Poison

Warlock was a month shy of two years old and walking with more confidence every day. Nanny Ashtoreth, walking beside him on the way to the garden, had to bend a bit to hold his hand. The brim of her black sun hat tilted down toward the tiny child toddling at her knee.

They were on their way to the orchard, because entertaining a two year old indoors all day is boring. Also because Crowley fancied an apple. He’d always been intrigued by the variety of the things, by all the different combinations of tart and sweet. For something that was supposed to be forbidden to humans, God sure did spend a lot of energy coming up with different versions. Something to tempt just about everyone.

Or maybe She’d simply lost track of them. Crowley had long suspected that the evolution thing had been set into motion and then left to run wild. After all, you had to have a sense of humor to invent the elephant. There was that whole “man plans and God laughs” thing, but privately Crowley wasn’t sure She was actually all that funny.

He also thought it was a bit ridiculous that this one house should have such a huge garden and several dozen apple trees, all for exactly three people. (Eleven people, if you counted the staff. Not that the Dowlings ever did.) Whose fault that was, he had no idea. Maybe it was just a human thing. Same way some people got to own a Ferrari and some people took the bus.

The apple trees were old, gnarled, and heavy with red fruit. Here and there, a bunch of bright green mistletoe interrupted the shape of a branch, whitish berries standing out against shiny leaves.

Brother Francis, the gardener, was halfway up the nearest tree, feet planted on the middle rung of a ladder and a pair of pruning shears in his hands.

The angel’s smile was so bright, Crowley wondered what he could possibly be looking at.

“Well, that’s adorable.” Aziraphale waved to Warlock, who stared up at him, mouth open and a bit of drool on his chin. “Holding Nanny’s hand, are you?”

Crowley’s lip curled into a growl. “Don’t have a choice,” he groused back. “He’ll wander off otherwise. Faceplant into a rosebush. Fall down the well.”

“Babies do take some watching,” Aziraphale agreed.

The baby, otherwise known (or so they thought) as the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness, pulled free of Crowley’s hand, lost his balance, and sat down in the grass with a soft thump. He patted the ground with his little palms, found a stray apple leaf, and put it in his mouth.

“Were you wanting a break?” Aziraphale offered. “I can watch him for a while.”

“You just want to teach him good things.”

“Of course I do.”

“Go on then.” Crowley patted Warlock on the head, and the toddler looked up at him with a gummy smile. “I’m getting an apple,” he said to Aziraphale. “You want one?”

Aziraphale crouched down beside Warlock, looking at him earnestly. “Shall we have an apple?”

Warlock burbled at him.

“Yes?” He called after Crowley, “Yes, we’ll have two.”

“Kid barely even has teeth yet,” Crowley grumbled, but he took a few moments to wander among the trees, looking for the brightest, best-looking apples. They all looked good, in fact, plump and shiny among healthy green leaves, in spite of the equally lush mistletoe living its parasitic life on the branches.

He wandered back a few minutes later, three perfect apples in his hands. He gave one to Aziraphale, set one in the grass in front of Warlock, and took a bite of the third. It had a nice crunch. Not too sweet, these ones. An appealing sourness in the background.

He used the hand holding the apple to point toward the trees. “You should trim that away,” he told Aziraphale. “The mistletoe. It’s a parasite. Sucks the life right out of them.”

Aziraphale swallowed his own bite of apple. “I suppose I should, but it’s so pretty. And it doesn’t seem to be harming anything.”

Crowley knew that guilty tone. “We’re not supposed to be calling attention to ourselves, Angel.”

Aziraphale shifted his posture. Looked away. Took another bite of apple.

“Angel.”

“Oh all right. Fine. No more miracles. I’ll trim it tomorrow.”

Crowley stretched out on the grass, long legs crossed at the ankles below the demure knee-length skirt. Aziraphale leaned back on his elbows. Between them, Warlock gummed at his apple, tiny front teeth making little furrows through its bright red peel.

“Humans have a thing with mistletoe, don’t they?” Aziraphale said, after a while.

“They do,” Crowley said.

“A sort of romantic thing, isn’t it?”

“Something like that.” Crowley, in fact, knew all about it, because he was the one who had invented it.

-----

300 years earlier

In a windowless room in one of the middle levels of Hell, a dozen demons sat around a conference table. Its scratched surface was littered with coffee mugs. The mugs were chipped and the coffee was cold. Crowley had made the mistake of adding creamer to his. Clumps of beige powder now floated on top, refusing to dissolve.

Up above their heads, through layers of stone, earth, and spiritual darkness, horse-drawn carriages rattled along the streets of eighteenth century London. It was late December, the time of year when days were short, weather was cold, and tempers were easily frayed.

At least Crowley’s chair still had both its arms. That didn’t quite make up, though, for the fact that the adjustable height didn’t adjust anymore. Crowley’s head was six inches lower than it ought to be. To his left, Ligur was six inches taller than he ought to be. On Crowley’s right, a demon whose name he’d never bothered to learn was trying to balance on a seat that was no longer properly attached to its base.

Beelzebub, Prince of Hell, lounged in the cushy executive chair at the table’s head. Their chair was at the exact right height. Their coffee cup steamed.

Ligur’s demonic possessions of a dozen housewives had earned a round of applause. Merihem, who had tempted a cook to poison an entire banquet hall, had gotten a nod of approval.

Crowley was the last to give his report. He sat straighter, trying to make up for the missing six inches. He’d done some good demonic activity this season, really he had. If a few of them were trades with Aziraphale, this crew didn’t need to know. Frame it right, and he’d get credit for tempting a father to go out for tobacco one night and never return. Never mind that the man was an abusive bastard.

He got full points, too, for leading a man into bigamy, against the marriage vows he’d made before God and man in London’s finest cathedral. If all three of them are now living together on a farm in northern Scotland, it’s nobody’s business but theirs. That one wasn’t even part of the Arrangement, it was just Crowley thumbing his nose at Her stupid rules--and breathing a sigh of relief when he got away with it.

He did have one thing he thought they’d genuinely get a kick out of. He thought it was particularly demonic. Right up their alley. “I invented a new Christmas thing.”

Beelzebub took a sip of coffee and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Go on, demon Crowley.”

Crowley reached into a jacket pocket and drew out a sprig of mistletoe. He had to stifle a giggle. He was really, legitimately proud of this one. “They think it’s a symbol of love!”

He looked around the table, waiting for the response.

Everyone stared back at him.

“They hang it above their doorways. If two humans stand under it, they have to kiss.”

Beelzebub tilted their head, set down their coffee. “Sszzzoo?”

“So, they think it’s romantic,” Crowley said, a little desperately.

Blank looks.

“It’s poisonous!” He shook the sprig of mistletoe at them. A few berries came loose and bounced their way across the table. “The berries make you sick to your stomach. If you make a tea out of the leaves, you’ll be nauseated. It makes your vision go blurry. Butterflies in your stomach, weak in the knees… Get it?”

They didn’t get it.

He couldn’t help grinning, even then. They’d get it when he told them. “It’s all the symptoms of unrequited love!”

Ligur leaned across Crowley to the demon on his other side, hissed, “I don’t get it.”

“And how,” said Beelzebub, “does that get us new soulszz?”

Crowley set the sprig of mistletoe down on the table. He smoothed the leaves, brushed a finger across the remaining berries. It didn’t. That wasn’t the point. The point was, it was funny.

Wasn’t it?

-----

“That was very clever, my dear” Aziraphale said, when Crowley finished the story.

“It’s all right,” Crowley said, “It’s not your thing. You’re all about the requited love, not the other kind.”

“It’s not as though I haven’t seen it. They do get so upset. It’s just like your poison, isn’t it. Not enough to kill them, but it does make them feel like they’re going to--” He trailed off. “Where’s the baby?”

Crowley sat up, looking around wildly. “You said you were watching him!”

“He can’t have gone far.” Aziraphale got to his feet, eyes scanning the grass around them. “Oh,” he said, relieved. “There he is. He’s just playing with the mistletoe.”

Warlock was there beside the nearest apple tree, about twenty meters away, wobbling a bit on his short little legs as he peered at a branch weighed down to the ground with ripe apples. A bright green bunch of mistletoe rested at the level of his head. He reached into it, tiny fingers grabbing a greenish-white berry that immediately went into his mouth.

Demons can move very quickly when they need to. Crowley crossed the distance at a run, grabbing Warlock and plucking the berry from his mouth. Warlock immediately began to wail.

Aziraphale snatched the crying toddler from his arms. He whispered something against his hair, and Warlock quieted. “You didn’t have to scare him like that.”

“He was eating the mistletoe!”

“You said it would just make him sick to his stomach.”

“That’s adults,” Crowley groaned, sinking to the ground as though his knees were giving out. “And only if you just eat a little. Higher doses will kill you.” He gestured weakly at Warlock, now sitting calmly in Aziraphale’s arms. “It doesn’t take much to make a big dose for a baby.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale looked horrified. “Why would you-- And they’re using it for Christmas decorations?”

“They were doing it anyway,” Crowley sighed. “I only added the romance part. And I didn’t make it poisonous in the first place,” he added. He pointed upward. “That wasn’t me, that was Her.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said. “Death by poisoning. I suppose that would have been one way to put an end to our problem.”

Crowley reached out and Aziraphale handed Warlock back over. The little boy snuggled up to his Nanny, who bounced him gently against her chest. “I suppose it would have been.” Nanny leaned her head down to look Warlock in the eyes. “You ready to go back to the house now?”

Warlock giggled back at her.

Nanny set him on his feet and reached down for a tiny hand. “See you later, Brother Francis.” The two of them walked back across the garden, toward the big house. Nanny had to bend down a bit to hold on to Warlock’s hand, the brim of her black sun hat tilted down toward the little boy toddling by her knee.

Brother Francis watched them go. Then he crossed the grass back to the orchard, picked up the shears, and began pruning away the mistletoe.

#31 days of ineffables #good omens #fanfic #aziraphale/crowley #aziraphale #crowley #warlock dowling #mistletoe #advent fic challenge

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joshversus · 5 years ago

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... Holiday Gaming, Year 5

It is absolutely batshit that I’ve been running these stupid Risus one-shot adventures every December for half a decade. And yet, here we are, and once again I close out a year’s tabletop RPG play with a chaotic mess of wild improvisation and half-baked ideas loosely themed to midwinter celebrations. You can read about previous years adventures here, here, here, and here.

This year formed a direct sequel to last year’s game, which was itself a semi-sequel to the first holiday one shot.

Following a lawsuit alleging image infringement, trademark violations, defamation, and mail fraud (among other charges), Lucifer settled out of court. As a result of the arbitration, Lucifer (Satan) is legally obligated to fulfill those letters intended for Santa which, due to misspelling, have been delivered to the Infernal Pit instead. The letters from Good Children, in particular, must be fulfilled on Christmas Eve as is the expected contract with Santa. Of course, Lucifer himself is embedded waist-deep in Cocytus, the frozen lake at the bottom of Hell, and anyway you don’t get to reign over the entire Inferno without delegating, so the work has been farmed out to lesser demons. The easy letters are dealt with by imps and various minor servitors, but there remain a few more problematic missives, and the Devil has appointed these to five of the lords of Hell to handle before Christmas morning.

Our player characters are:

HAAGENTI, President of Hell, governor over 33 legions, in the shape of a winged bull. (Polymath 4, Boozehound 3, Demon 2, Alchemist 1)

AMDUSIAS, Duke of Hell, governor over 29 legions, in the shape of an upright unicorn. (Magical Musician 4, Treebender 3, Booming Voice 2, Demon 1)

BARBATOS, Duke of Hell, governor over 30 legions, in the shaped of a devilish bearded man. (Demon 4, Dr. Doolittle 3, Treasure Hunter 2, Fortune Teller 1)

FURFUR, Earl of Hell, governor over 26 legions, in the shape of a hart with a fiery tail. (Cupid 4, Thunder and Lightning 3, Demon 2, Soothsayer 1)

MARCHOSIAS, Marquess of Hell, governor over 30 legions, in the shape of a winged wolf with a flaming mouth. (Rowdy Boy 4, Demon 3, Fundamentally Honest 2, Flamethrower 1)

(Our demonic cast is directly but loosely based off their attributes as recorded in The Lesser Key of Solomon.)

Lucifer lays out the deal: Get this done before dawn. They’ve got to follow the rules Santa laid on in arbitration:

No teleporting inside the residence. They can teleport to it, but must get inside physically.

No damage. No blasting the walls down with hellfire or the like. Santa doesn’t do property damage.

No getting seen, unless being seen fosters belief in Santa Claus and the Magic of Christmas.

If milk and cookies or other snacks have been left out for Santa, they must be consumed.

Letters from Good Children must be fulfilled.

There are five Good Child letters left. Lucifer has provided them with a magic sack which will provide the next letter as each is fulfilled, and also potentially provide gifts or other useful tools (no guarantees). The letters are revealed first with names and locations, and only once the party is at the residence is the child’s request made visible. It is also established that the demons all basically have a roughly 13th-16th century European level of understanding.

LETTER ONE comes from Jimothy Sanchez of Passaic, New Jersey. Jimothy lives with his father Oliver, stepmother Alanis, and his older stepsister Quinn. Jimothy is eight.

The demons arrive via teleportation outside the two-story suburban home of the Sanchez family. They are confused by the environment, but immediately begin debating how to get in. Examination of the letter reveals that Jimmy wants a “fidget spinner” and to “go to space like an astronaut.”

Barbatos begins interrogating a nightbird for information on how to get inside. “You’re tellin’ me you want to get in there to give a little boy a ‘present’? You fuckin’ pervert,” the thickly-NJ-accented bird replies. Eventually, the bird summons some pigeons, who attack Marchosias. Furfur responds by summoning lighting to strike the bird’s tree, which splits and bursts into flames.

This wakes the father inside, who (as can be seen through the window) calls the fire department, although the demons are unclear on what’s happening. Barbatos turns himself into an approximation of Santa (long white beard, red sharkskin suit, curling ram’s horns) as the fire department arrives. Marchosias and Haagenti teleport back to Dis to visit the infernal library and attempt to unravel the word “astronaut”. Amdusias attempts to pull a key out of the magic sack, but gets a viper instead, which she discards on the ground where it almost immediately bites a fireman. Oliver Sanchez comes outside, and Barbatos introduces himself as Santa, leading to a great deal of confusion. Marchosias and Haagenti return, and Haagenti attempts to sell the Santa con by turning into an elf, but succeeds only in turning into an Elf on the Shelf, all of which causes Mr. Sanchez to faint. Barbatos picks up the EotS and they and Marchosias go inside. After getting the rundown on what “astronaut” means, Barbatos attempts to get a book on Space from the bag, and gets a book about NASA. Amdusias downs the milk and cookies, and is revolted by the lack of parasites. Based on the book, he goes to the Moon, where he attempts to collect a footprint left there by astronauts. Since it’s all moon dust, he just gets a fist of dust. He brings that back and stuff it and a wooden top (provided by the sack in response to a request for a fidget spinner) into the stocking labeled Jimothy, and the demons collectively bug out while the firefighters attempt to revive their envenomed compatriot.

LETTER TWO comes from the children of St. Guinefort’s Home for Disadvantaged Children, an archaic Catholic orphanage in NYC’s Lower East Side. Surprisingly, the children have not requested anything unreasonable, but have requested a badminton set so they can play together. Haagenti and Barbatos teleport to the roof of the building in search of a chimney, and finding one Barbatos tosses Haagenti (still in stuffed elf form) down it. Haagenti hits a metal barrier and finds himself trapped. Furfur joins them and drops a steaming, acidic load of demon poo down it, burning a hole through the closed flue and dumping Haagenti into a disused storeroom. Barbatos turns into a rat and follows him down. Haagenti attempts to take the form of a child and only manages to become a naked, horned baby with a devil’s tail, but is at least able to crawl around. Barbatos goes for Santa mode again, but this time ends up worse, appearing gaunt and skeletal in his red garb. Barbatos stuffs the baby Haagenti into the magic bag, a transimensional experience which shatters his mind and that of Furfur, who was scrying on their progress at the moment. The two have a close encounter with and narrowly avoid the notice of a nun doing the rounds, and manage to quickly locate a room full of sleeping children, where a sad, Charlie-Brown-esque tree sits with no presents around. Outside, Amdusias attempts to prevent any undue attention by summoning the sound of a traditional Christmas carol, but unwittingly makes everyone in earshot lose Whamageddon instead, followed by Fairytale of New York.

Back inside, Barbatos extracts the extremely dazed Haagenti from the sack, and then attempts to get a badminton set out of it. The sack provides everything required: net, rackets, shuttlecocks, posts, post-hole digger, cardboard tube forms for pouring concrete anchors for the posts, bags of concrete, a backhoe and steamroller for flattening the court, turf, grass seed, chalk, a spreader, etc. The room is very full, and the tree is entirely obscured.

The demons retreat to Central Park, where they have a brief altercation with some hoodlums, before heading to the next home.

LETTER THREE was from Emily Chen of Hollywood, California, where she lives with her mother Amy and three brothers Ted, Leo, and Bobby in a three-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor of a walk-up building. Emily, as the letter reveals, wants a pony.

Amdusias’s tree-bending bends a palm over the fence and lets everybody past the gates of the building, and the demons gather around the door to apartment. Barbatos uses his treasure-finding skills to locate a key. It is inside the apartment. A cat is sensed inside, and Barbatos attempts to convince the cat to let them in. The cat explains that even if it wanted to, it can’t work the lock. A bribe of fish is offered if the cat will retrieve the key and push it under the door - the cat agrees if they will give it sushi. A key is pushed under the door. It does not fit in the lock. Haagenti turns it into a more ductile metal to make it fit into the keyhole, and then attempts to firm it up so it can be turned, but in doing so ends up fusing it into the keyhole. The cat demands sushi, which when extracted from the bag is revealed to be a piece of tamago nigiri. An offer of salmon is made, but the cat again points out they are not capable of working the locks. One of the demons tried to turn the cat into a human. The locks click, the door opens, and a very sexy, very naked, and entirely testicle-less human man is revealed, demanding salmon. The salmon is given, but the former cat asks for its balls back in exchange for letting them in and not just blowing up their spot right then and there. Magic succeeds in restoring the man-cat’s genitals, and after garbing himself in a child’s gym shorts and some flip-flops, the cat leaves into the Hollywood night and the demons are free to enter.

The living room bears a silver metallic tree, which confuses them, but they quickly and successfully extract a full-sized live pony and a bale of moist hay form the sack, the demons depart.

LETTER FOUR comes from Bethany-Ann Mayweather of South Carolina. Bethany, it turns out, lives in a heavily-fortified survivalist compound in the woods with her dad (Steve), two brothers (Jesse and Dave), and two sisters (Katie and Donna-Lee. The entire place is surrounded by an electrified fence topped with razor wire.

Emily would like to go to school like other children.

Things get weird. Amdusias bends a tree over the fence, and Furfur drops down to discover that the clear ground between the fence and the building itself is heavily mined, exploding instantly (but non-fatally, because demon). Lights are going on at the compound as Furfur starts bouncing around setting off mines and motion-sensing lamps.

Marchosias has the idea that the humans at the first house had somehow summoned that metal chariot in response to the burning tree by talking into that weird curved oblong shape, and that if they do the same maybe the metal chariot will help them get in. Reaching into the bag extracts a banana. Marchosias holds it to the side of his head and says hello.

“Hello?” says a sleepy voice from the banana. “Who is this?”

“Uh, Mark,” responds Marchosias, who is Fundamentally Honest. “Are you the...cops? There is a little girl and there is a lot of gunpowder and fire and explosions.”

“What? No, this is Raffi. How did you get this number? Is this a prank?”

It is established that this is not a prank (”Did Steve put you up to this?” “There’s a Steve here but no.” “From Blue’s Clues.” “I don’t know who or what that is.” “Mark, I’m looking at this caller ID here, and it just says ‘banana’. What’s going on?”). Barbatos teleports to this ‘Raffi’, the shock of which causes Raffi to suffer a heart attack and die. Barbatos resurrects Raffi as an undead revenant, and after difficulty (”Raffi, how do we call the police?” “RING. RING. RING. BANANAPHONE.”) manage to extract the magical incantation “911″ from the former children’s entertainer. Marchosias invokes this to the banana and connects to emergency services, and after a very complicated discussion (and some light aerial reconnaissance to pinpoint a location) succeeds in convincing them that there is a dangerous, heavily-armed incident at the compound and a child is in danger. SWAT is being sent. Meanwhile, Furfur is drawing gunfire from the survivalist dad, and Amdusias uses spectral music to distract him while they slip inside.

The six-foot-tall unicorn-headed naked figure reaches the crude two-dimensional paper Christmas tree inside the survival bunker and attempts to eat the dry saltines and rehydrated powdered milk that has been left out. They are interrupted by the sleepy-eyed and tow-headed Bethany-Ann, who asks who they are. Amdusias explains that they’re subbing in because Blitzen is sick. Blitzen is Bethany-Ann’s favorite. Amdusias tells her she’s going to get to go to school soon, and after a hug sends Bethany-Ann to hide under her bed until some nice people come get her. Furfur attempts to use his lightning powers to dash Blitzen-like over the compound to drive home the Christmas-ness of it all, and instead burns holes through a number of trees as he accelerates to an appreciable fraction of the speed of light. The remaining demons depart as militarized police descend on the compound.

THE FINAL LETTER is from Marcus Fitzwilliams III, son of Buck and Nancy, brother to Samantha, of Casper, Wyoming. Marcus is ten, and he would like “a fortnite”. The demons gather outside the ranch-style suburban home and debate what that means. Eventually, they decide this means he wants to spend a night in a fort, and locating the Fort Caspar Museum nearby they plan to liberate the child from the house and take him there. They decide against a plan to bring the fort to the house on the grounds that this might cause property damage. Everyone but Marchosias goes to the backyard; Marchosias, who at this point looks like Bea Arthur because of reasons, remains out front with the banana to allay suspicion.

In the backyard, Barbatos again attempts to find a key, but fails. He does detect a dog, and attempts to convince the dog to let them in. The dog declines. “Stranger bad. Bite stranger.” An offer of bacon is made, and raw bacon pulled from the sack. “Bacon good. Bite bacon. Bite stranger. Good dog.” This goes back and forth for a bit, and the dog starts barking. Barbatos attempts to turn into a dog to sell the bit, and turns into a massive, ebon mastiff with glowing red eyes. The bacon falls on the ground. Furfur is now hiding in trees behind the house, joined by Amdusias, who attempts to keep things under control by bellowing “somebody let that dog out for a walk”, which comes out in a titanic demonic shout which rattles windows and kills the azaleas. Lights come on. The backdoor opens and Buck, carrying a rifle, looks at the giant demon dog and Haagenti, who is still a demonic baby, and the pile of bacon. In the trees, the flaming tail of Furfur glows.

“MA, GET UP AND CHECK THE FRONT, I THINK THE METHHEADS ARE TRYIN’ TO ROB US.”

Shit goes sideways quick. Nancy opens the front door and sees Bea Arthur standing in her yard talking into a banana, and confirms the meth suspicion to buck. The dog escapes into the yard and eats the bacon. Baby Haagenti jumps on mastiff Barbatos’ back and the two dash into the house as Buck fires wildly at them and the intruders in the trees. Nancy shoots the bananaphone and the side of Bea Arthur’s face. Inside the house, Haagenti and Barbatos dodge bullets semi-successfully. Haagenti scarfs cookies while Barbatos abandons the original plan and reaches into the bag while thinking “Fort Night”, pulling forth a card with a download code for Minecraft. Furfur pulls his lightning-assisted flight trick over the house while Amdusias tries a bellowing “HO HO HO” so loud and infernal it shatters windows in houses throughout the neighborhood.

The list complete, the demons depart for Dis, where they are quickly met by Asmodeus, who tells them the boss wants to see them. The demon lords report total success, but receive a thorough chewing-out from Lucifer, who details the many, many violations they have committed and the agonies he is going to inflict on them for their failure.

“You know the ring where we bury people up to their face in flaming shit?” “Yeah, that one’s great.” “Not for the humans. I’m going to turn you all into humans and stick you there for the next thousand years.”

The demons attempt to portray their actions in a favorable light, and Amdusias protests and attempts to get the sounds of Michael Bublé’s Let it Snow to play and encourage the spirit of the holiday to earn them some clemency. However, it turns instead into Snow’s Informer as Belial reveals himself from behind Lucifer’s torso and tells them he was following and reporting on them the whole time, everyone gets in a Christmas “no, fuck you”, our heroes are consigned to flaming shit, and credits roll. Happy Holidays, everyone.

#risus #annual holiday game #rpgs #not a strict interpretation of the goetia #man seriously a lot happened I probably forgot a third of it but this was long #demons are not elves #also there was the bit where furfur tried to make a bird fall in love and it got weird

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charsawdeath · 5 years ago

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Maybe some short story about Chase and his hypotetical children..? Just for a change maybe? Not a fic, but an answer

Short story time-Cause why not

The she-demon is never named nor shall his spawns cause I don't care for them though

Harsh? I still had tried before but didn't get an answer so my mind is set so be pleased I'm not having them be eaten

Chase looked to Satan and Satan looked back at his guard, the wildest His had in a long time.

"Choose their fate, I'll honor you that, my Guard!" Satan said in the gravelly voice of the Fallen King.

Choose their fates...HIM?

Two little scraps lay tucked in a blanket, much as Adam the Antichrist had been the day of his birth save these two weren't such beings of power-They were scraps of Hellspawns he still for the life and death of his being had no idea how they became!

"My King-" But Satan was gone and so was the Dark Council.

He LOVED his siblings, adored Aza's spawns~

Dagons litter, Chase melted at the thought of them then heard the two before him and lowered his tattered ears.

These had HIM inside them-HIM, Chase, fucked up, destructive, wild minded Chase!

His first contact was a sniff to each scrap.

Each squeaked as his nose touched them, as if it hurt them that he had touched their bodies!

Chase flinched back swiftly, disgusted but not by them-But himself-

So new yet already so broken...

'Take them out of their misery you broken piece of flesh!' The loudest voice told him and he shivered.

'Its a favor to Satan, these won't make it, not even with a foster mum!'

'Satan left you to choose, it's a test! Rid Hell of them Chase, their broken and useless!'

'Their not even yours-'

Chase's eyes opened at that.

'Who'd want to dance with you, you'd kill them!'

That's how he'd care for them! Or not KILL them as he worked things out anyway!

He resisted the urge to scream for once and instead, tried HARD to gently grab the spawns and hold them to himself.

If he could just make it to the nursing pit!

'What in Heaven are you doing?' The darker voice seethed as he charged ahead, carelessly, trying hard to get there before the voices could make him kill the spawns in his arms.

'CHASE you stupid broken minded twit!'

He could smell the nursing pit~

He looked down, both spawns were still there too!

He'd make it~

He smirked at the voices as he slipped inside the pits entrance and found the first Demon parent he saw, thrusting the spawns at them, voice tight, as if strangled, "Tend to these! Name them, never bring them near me, just keep them!"

Upon exchange, Chase felt a weight lifting, the parent and their mate not asking questions to the Guard of Satan and rested them by the belly of the to-be mum of the pair.

The weight crushed him as the mum's voice hushed out tightly, "Lord... These spawns... Their... Dead.."

'Couldn't even get them to the pit in time~' The darkest voice sang as Chase saw the mum tenderly nudge both spawns and each limply stayed where they'd been placed.

"Feed, come now! Your my spawns damnit! Feed, we don't just give up!"

Uncaring and being unchallenged, Chase held the dead spawns gently by the to-be mum's belly and tried to get them to feed.

They were cold-

His touch did not make them squeak as if in pain-

At some point, unknown to Chase, they'd died in his arms due to being little and sick!

But to Chase as he pulled them close to himself, no longer feeling the need to keep them safe from himself, all he could see was as he ran, at some point, he'd strangled them or crushed them-

Tucking them in close-Chase broke down and the nursing pit heard their Kings Guards painful silent scream of loss and bowed their heads in silence-For though he WAS the most violent and sick minded-He DID care-

(NOTE-His spawns were born to early, they died because of this! Chase TIRED to bring them to someone who'd love them and tend to them-His own love and tending for them why he did this)

#chase #tw death #my work #written #hastur x dagon #good omens dagon #good omens ligur #ligur x hastur #hastur x ligur #hastur and ligur #dagon x ligur #good omens hastur #aza #oc kids

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heros-amoung-us · 6 years ago

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Earpiece Date

Thanks @savanime19 for the request!!!

This is a Bakugou x reader scenario! With the whole bakusquad helping out ;) Might make another part but idk yet. So enjoy this!

Katsuki Bakugou sat on a park bench alone. His blond eyebrows were narrowed towards each other in agitated concentration. His strong arms, crossed over his chest and his foot tapped nervously against the soft grassy ground. Random civilians paid no mind to the grumpy looking teenager as they passed by him, each one too focused on appreciating and taking in the beauty of the city’s park.

Katsuki shifted uneasily in his bench seat. “Okay, so what do I do when she first gets here?” His voice was hushed, not wanting anyone passing by to hear him talking.

“Slap that bish on the ass and take her to the closest private bathroom, if you know what I mean~” Kaminari’s disembodied voice rang from the ear piece Katsuki was wearing.

The blond felt his blood boil.

“I’m going to fucking murder you so bad that even Satan won’t be able to punish you any worse when you get to HELL.” Katsuki said through his angrily clenched jaw.

“Who invited Kaminari, again?” this time, Sero’s cracking teenage voice came through Katsuki’s ear, along with an offended gasp from the electrical hazard himself.

“Hey!! Bakugou asked for ALL of our help on this date with [L/n]!” Kaminari answered, slightly offended.

“He probably doesn’t want to hear your perverted comments though, Kaminari.” Mina added, her voice sounding girlish and somewhat out of place.

“Yeah man, that comment wasn’t cool. A real man would never talk about [Y/n] like that.” Kirishima commented, earning a string of ‘fine, fine, fine’ from Kaminari.

Katsuki, was currently too focused on looking through the faces of all the people passing by him to respond to his friends in his ear piece. His handsome crimson eyes scanned each person. He felt anxious for some reason. Every time he saw someone pass with (h/c) hair his heart would skip a beat, thinking it was you.

Mina calling his name in his ear pulled him back into their conversation.

“Bakugou! Adjust your camera please, we’re looking at the pavement right now.”

Said male’s eyes went back to scanning the crowd of people. Your arrival was all he could think about. His hands moved on their own to adjust a small explosion pin on the pocket of his black T-shirt. An almost invisible camera was hidden in the pin, which allowed his four friends to see what he was seeing, without being too obvious.

“Bro, how are you feeling?” Kirishima asked.

Katsuki tore his gaze from the passing by people and looked down at is shoes. His right foot was still anxiously tapping on the ground. He ran a hand through his ash blond hair.

“Like fucking Deku. This is so stupid.”

“Awe~ Bakugou~ Are you nervous?” Mina cooed.

Katsuki instantly felt his cheeks and ears heat up.

“NO WAY! NOW SHUT UP!” He lashed out, earning a handful of people around him to become alarmed and hurry away.

Katsuki clenched his jaw together.

“It’s normal to feel nervous before a first date. I mean, you’ve been gunning over [L/n] for what, MONTHS now?!”

“Shut it, low-budget Spiderman,” Katsuki grumbled. He wasn’t fucking nervous. He just felt weird that’s all. His senses were at all time highs as he waited for you to get to the park. “Now give me some real advice you fuckers before she gets here.”

“Okay, okay. What do you have planned for this date Bakugou?” Kirishima asked.

There was a long silence.

“…nothing.”

“Jesus Christ” Kaminari cursed.

“This is gonna be more work than I thought.” Mina breathed out.

“Bro are you serious? You didn’t plan a single thing?” Kirishima asked dumbfounded.

“This is why I asked you idiots to help me out! That was your fucking job!” Katsuki whisper yelled.

“Alright, this is okay. We can plan something before she shows up,” Kirishima reassured, his brain racking through his inventory of date ideas.

“Too late she’s walking towards us!!” Mina frantically yelled.

Katsuki shot his head up, his eye wide as he stared at you walking toward him. His heart rate almost doubled as you smiled at him.

“This is not a drill! I repeat! This is not a drill! Everyone stay calm! Oh god! This is it folks! Here we go!” Kaminari’s disembodied voice was clearly panicking. “Welcome to the show ladies and gentlemen! Oh boy, here we go!”

Your baby blue and white dress hung to your curves nicely. It wasn’t too revealing, which Katsuki liked. Your (h/l) (h/c) flowed breezily in the spring’s air. Katsuki couldn’t help but notice how you stood out from all the nameless extras around. It was as if no one else mattered but you.

“Hey!” Your voice was light and cheery. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting long, Bakugou?”

Katsuki felt his mouth run completely dry as you stood in front of him. His feet were cemented into the ground and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. This was really happening. He was really on a date with you right now.

“Bro! Answer her!” Kirishima yelled into his ear.

Katsuki cleared his throat, hoping to produce some sort of wetness there so he could speak.

“No, I just got here.” He lied. He had been nervously sitting on the bench for twenty minutes.

“Oh great! This park is beautiful isn’t it!” You marvelled, looking around at all the trees and flowers.

“Tell her that she looks beautiful!” Mina encouraged.

“Say ‘not as beautiful as you’ the ladies eat that shit up.” Kaminari added.

Katsuki stood up from his position on the bench. He stood beside you and awkwardly shoved his hands in his pant pockets.

“Oi! Yeah that’s good! Say it Bakugou!” Kirishima enthusiastically yelled.

Katsuki felt his cheeks warm up even further. That shit was so cheesy.

“Yeah, you look not as beautiful as you.” Was his actual response. He felt dumb and wished he just didn’t say anything. “I-I mean! Not as…nice or…whatever…as …you.” His voice was an embarrassed whisper by the end.

“Unbelievable,”

“I need a drink already,”

You giggled, which surprised everyone including Katsuki himself. Looking back over to him, your smile made him feel even more nervous. He didn’t know what to do or where to take you now.

Good thing you were easy going.

“Wanna walk along the trail?” You suggested.

Katsuki grunted and nodded in response. Your footstep fell in sync with each other as you made your way to the paved path. It stretched around and through the park in various directions. You had started telling Katsuki about your day and other random things that happened to you during your journey to the park. At first, he tried to pay attention, but after staring at the side of your face for several seconds, your voice began to drown out. The soft features of your face, the soft fluffy look of your hair, the way your eyes lit up while telling a story, it all entranced him. His crimson eyes seemed stuck on you, as if he was looking at a rare and beautiful piece of art.

“Bro…real talk…[Y/n]’s tits look so good in that dress.” Kaminari’s voice grabbed Katsuki by the neck, dragged him out of his peaceful dreamy state, and slapped him into the pit of despair that was perversion.

Usually, comments like these would never bother him. He actually very rarely paid any attention to them. But when it came to you, he couldn’t help but hear them loud and clear.

Katsuki angrily fisted the explosion pin, blocking Kaminari’s and everyone else’s view of your rack. He then felt his whole face redden as his eyes darted down your cleavage. Your tits did look rocking. Katsuki wanted to punch himself.

“Bakugou! Let go of the camera!” Mina yelled.

“Kaminari what is wrong with you man?”

Bakugou’s grip in his pin tightened. He suddenly felt guilty he made his friends spy on your date. But at the same time, he knew he was beyond clueless, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck this up.

“What?! Don’t hate the player, hate the game! I can’t help but admire gifts from god.”

“Jesus, someone please mute his mic.”

“Don’t make me come over to your place and tape your mouth shut, dude.”

“Please do, Sero.” Mina huffed.

“I should mute all your mics” Katsuki tried to whisper. Offended gasps could be heard in his ear piece.

“What?” You asked, hearing him suddenly say something. You turned to look at him, still walking in pace.

Katsuki panicked and let go of his pin. “Uh, NOTHING!” He aggressively yelled, his face as red as a tomato.

You giggled again, giving him a soft smile before facing forward again.

“Bro you can’t talk to us when you’re with her!” Sero reminded. Katsuki glared down at the ground.

“Wow!” Your voice once again pulled him out of his little bakusquad ear piece world. He looked up at your glowing smiling face. His gaze followed yours to a large field of colourful flowers. It stretched itself miles across and held, what appeared to be, hundreds of different kinds of flowers. Katsuki didn’t understand why you were so excited about a bunch of flowers, but he was grateful the conversation was no longer on him.

You two had stopped on the edge of the path to admire the field. Katsuki stood beside you. He side glanced, only to see your face turned up into an intoxicating smile. You were intoxicated by the beauty of the flowers, as he was with you. He found himself getting lost in your presence again, reality slowly blurring around him.

“This is perfect! Girls love flowers!” Mina excitedly commented.

“Ask her what her favourite type of flower is.” Kirishima said.

“What’s your favourite?” Katsuki blurted out, his voice rough and low.

You glanced up at him quickly before looking back at the field.

“Flower, I mean. Which kind is your favourite or whatever?”

“I think my favourite is lavender. They’re such a nice purple colour and smell amazing! Do you have one?” You answered, turning towards him.

“They’re all kinda the same to me.” He answered, only really focusing on trying to burn lavender into his memory as your favourite flower.

“I feel like you’re a sunflower kinda guy.” You said. Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “They’re tall like you.” You shrugged.

“I’m not tall, you’re just short.” He said back. You faked an offended scoff and nudged his arm.

“Am not! I’m average you bully!” you laughed.

Katsuki on the other hand, did not laugh. He just stared, at his arm that you nudged.

“We have made contact! One small step for Katsuki, one giant step for class 1A pussy-slaying kind!” Kaminari cheered.

“Jesus shut the fuck up you cock sucker”. Katsuki yelled, almost instinctively.

His eyes widened into saucers the second he realised he said that out loud. He was too terrified to look over to you.

“…what?” You asked, very confused and trying your best to not be offended.

Katsuki brought his hand up to his mouth and just stared at the grass near his feet in horror. How was he supposed to recover from this? He felt his heart sink into his stomach and all he wanted to do was murder that pica-bitch.

The bakusquad was also speechless.

“Bro….” Kirishima said sympathetically.

“Kaminari I’m coming over to your dorm and murdering you right now.” Sero stated, some shuffling noises could be heard soon after. “Mina, Kirishima, save our wounded solider, will ya?”

“NO PLEASE SERO! HAVE MERCY! I’M SORRY BAKUGOU!”

Katsuki clenched his fist at his side so hard his knuckles turned white.

Your light, airy laughter filled his ears and almost sent an electric shock through his body. He stared at the ground in disbelief, thinking it’s gotta be someone else laughing. He slowly turned his head towards you, only to see you clutching your stomach in laughter.

“um…..what?” Mina spoke the thoughts of everyone.

You looked over at Katsuki and tried to calm your laughing down.

“Didn’t know you got so offended by being called a bully~ Did I just find one of Katsuki Bakugou’s soft spots?” You giggled.

You always found it funny how Bakugou was so over-the-top about everything. His intenseness and colourful language together was the funniest thing in the world to you.

“GO WITH IT! JESUS MAN GO WITH IT!” Kirishima frantically yelled.

Katsuki blinked a couple times. “Ah! N-no way! Are you kidding me?! I don’t have any weak spots! I’m as solid as a rock dammit.” He tried to recover.

“Oh yeah?” You teased, lightly punching his chest. “I don’t knowww, you sounded pretty offended~”

Katsuki felt a wave of relief wash over him at your teasing. Fucking right he’s still in this date for the WIN. He gave you a small smirk.

“In your fucking dreams princess! I don’t have any soft spots and I don’t get offended by others, THAT’S why I’m the best.” He folded his arms across his chest

You raised an eyebrow and returned his smirk. “Oh really? I guess…” You started slowly making your way towards the flower field, looking back at Katsuki over your shoulder. “we will see about that~” You turned back to face the front and continued into the field.

Katsuki stood speechless. His cheeks were fire-hydrant red and his heart pounded in his chest.

You were going to kill him.

“Damnnnn…don’t hate me for saying this Bakuguo, but [Y/n] is hot as fuck. That look was something else. Remind me to get tips from her later.” Mina commented in Katsuki’s ear.

Katsuki watched you slowly walk through the field. The tops of the flowers brushing past your thighs. You’d bend down ever-so often to smell a flower and look over to him with half-lidded eyes.

“…agreed…” Kirishima added, his voice low.

Katsuki snapped out of his daze on you and uncrossed his arms.

“If either of you try anything I’ll sent you on fire.” He muttered, only loud enough for them to hear.

The ash blond began casually walking over to where you stood in the field. Other civilians stood around in the field and around as well, admiring the flowers. His gaze darted from his feet to you every couple second. You caught him looking at you and you both immediately looked away awkwardly, your cheeks both heating up.

“Bro pick her some flowers or something.” Kirishima prodded.

Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets and slightly pouted. He never thought he’d see himself standing in a flower field, let alone, picking them. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I guess it was okay. But didn’t help his ego.

“Dude! She’ll like it!” Kirishima pushed.

“Operation Get Rid of Electrical Hazard has been a success, I’m currently in his dorm room and have cocooned the bastard in tape.” Sero suddenly added.

Mina began hysterically laughing.

“Oh my gosh! I have to see this!” She yelled, making Katsuki slightly wince at her volume.

You noticed and turned towards the blond.

“You okay?” You asked.

Katsuki looked up at you.

“MINA! HELP ME!”

“What the-? How’d you get your mouth loose?”

“PLEASE NO MORE TAP-MM! HMM MH MM!”

“Uh…” Katsuki found it hard to concentrate on both you and the commotion that was going on in his ear. “Yeah,”

You hesitantly nodded, noticing how spaced out he seemed to be. In a sudden realization, you realized that he must be bored looking at flowers. You mentally punched yourself in the face for making him do something so boring for him.

“AHAHAHAH Kaminari!! Kirishima you have to see this! He looks like an angry caterpillar!!” Mina yelled in Katsuki’s ear.

“Guys! We’re supposed to be helping Katsuki right now remember? Just…take lots of pictures and send them to me.”

“Hey,” the sound of your voice once again pulled Katsuki out of his ear piece world. “Do you wanna go get something to eat? I know this really good noodle place only a short walk away.” You suggested.

Katsuki nodded, “Sure,” he said in a bored tone, trying his best to focus on you and not his idiot friends.

As the two of you began walking back to the paved trail, Katsuki caught a glimpse of lavender in his right eye. There was a small bush of it not too far from where he was. Quickly, and without anyone really noticing, he aggressively grabbed a fistful of the flower and pulled some out of the ground.

“Ah…” Katsuki nervously started, feeling his cheeks warm up at the cheesiness of the act. You were walking beside him. You looked over to see the sides of his face a slight pink colour. You also thought you noticed…something…in his ear? Katsuki doesn’t have earrings, does he? “Here” He said, shoving the fist full of lavender into your hands.

Your attention was immediately onto the purple flowers and their clean, fresh scent that filled your nose. You couldn’t help but smile and blush.

“Thank you! These are beautiful Katsuki!” You said, your voice airy and light.

The blond just faced forward, but he felt accomplished and warm inside.

“That was smooth as hell bro! Nice one!” Kirishima yelled.

“Awe~ This is so cute! I’m getting goosebumps!” Mina cheered.

“OW! Mina, watch where you fist pump.” Sero winced. Mina laughed and apologized.

“Okay now it’s conversation time while you guys walk to the park! Ask her how she likes U.A.”

“No, no! Give her a compliment about her training! Like she was really badass in that ship wreck rescue training we did yesterday. Tell her she did great!”

Katsuki opened his mouth to do exactly that.

“Yeah! But girls don’t want to hear that, she did much better when we were learning cpr.”

“Tell her her quirk is manly and awesome! And everyone is jealous!”

“She’s got beautiful eyes that could capture any villain in them with just one look!”

Katsuki felt himself get increasingly confused and frustrated at all the input. Soon, all their voices began talking over each other.

“Your training was…manly and awesome…and your eyes could capture any cpr badass…” Katsuki said, not really hearing himself, only really hearing the jumbled-up words of his friends.

You gave him a quizzical look.

Katsuki cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes.

“Ah, fuck. I mean…you did pretty okay during yesterday’s training, you know.” Katsuki said embarrassed he messed up before.

You smiled and lightly giggled. “Thanks, Bakugou! I thought it was really fun, I might specialize in ship wreckages or something. Not too sure yet.” You shrugged.

Katsuki side glanced over to you briefly before looking back down at the path.

“Yeah? You don’t want to be a hero in a big city or anything?” He asked.

Your steps became synced as you left the park’s path and got onto the sidewalk.

“I don’t really know yet. I like living in the city, sure. But...maybe it’s my quirk or who I am as a person, but I just feel connected to nature and water somehow. So right now, I feel like that’s where I’ll end up; somewhere more rural and a lot of waterfront.”

“NO [L/N]! I wanna fight bad guys in a big city with her!!! We were gonna be roomies!” Mina exclaimed sadly.

“Calm down, she said she wasn’t even sure if that’s what she wanted to do.” Sero said, clearly annoyed with the pink female.

“Bro, this is intense. This means theres even more pressure to lock her down before she goes to be a hero in the middle of no where! You either gotta stop her or wife her, bro!!” Kirishima yelled.

Katsuki couldn’t help but feel slightly upset by your words. Kirishima layered on that pressure like a fat kid layers butter on toast.

“Ah!” He heard you say. You had stopped walking and were standing in front of a small noodle restaurant. “We’re here!”

You quickly stepped up to the door and opened it. “Come on!”

Katsuki slowly followed. He shoved his hands in his pockets as you both walked through the door.

“Alright, operation Lock [L/n] Down is a go! We really gotta turn the charm up 1000 percent here guys! She can’t leave us!” Kirishima yelled, earning determined ‘yeah!’s from Sero and Mina.

Katsuki gulped back a nervous lump in his throat.

This was going to be interesting.

#katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki date #date with bakugou #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha requests #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia #bnha katsuki #kacchan

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tinkdw · 6 years ago

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14x01: watching notes / mini meta

This episode is just like one long tick list of previous meta and I love it even if the actual ep itself was slightly bland with a few niggles, the thematics are so exciting for what it means for the show overall and the characters we love. Here’s my watching notes / mini meta short versions of the themes, (previous longer meta’s on each theme are linked with x or underlined sentences). Here we go!

I called the Angel wings, yay!

Opening song: shot down in flames by AC/DC. A song about unrequieted romantic feelings. Lmao. OK, good start...

- Dean screaming at Sam “all I see is everything we’ve lost” - cuts to just Cas dying. OK. Thanks for clarifying that meta from last year up for us Dabb ;)

- That freeze frame tho. Even shortened it’s still terrible. Stawp.

- Cut to Sam in the car, this is like the one with Rowena where it went from the opening song to her in the car and I love it, please do more. Oh, bonus if we can get one where Dean does it and he looks at the camera like he’s on the office and switches it from something rocky to, like, Miley Cyrus :p

- The point of the Jamil scene, whilst in itself it is divisive and has offended some viewers (and I do not condone that but I write meta so here is the meta), was clear re: Michael. Showing that Michael essentially is that asshole who doesn’t care how much you redeemed yourself and now are trying to do good but says you want selfish things and remembers that one time you did something wrong 8 years ago and won’t let you get past it. He also enjoys putting words in others’ mouths and judging them from above because he somehow thinks he is some all knowing, all judging clever clogs (and better than Gabriel, pfft he doesn’t even know our Gabriel but just assumes he’s better, ok then...). He’s a self absorbed, self assured, arrogant, genocidal, doesn’t give a shit about humanity wanker with a chip on his shoulder having inherited some power from his daddy he doesn’t know what to do with and has only shown so far that he can balls it up royally but somehow thinks this time, this time it'll work cos he’s oh so intelligent and right. Oh look, Michael is Trump.

- “A better world”. Well I’ve talked about that a lot previously, how this links to the other extreme end of the MoL, essentially we have the MoL at one end telling us the world can only be better if you remove anything supernatural and Michael at the other saying it can only be better if you remove anything natural. Longer meta on these and how they also link to John and the season 1 onwards black/white to grey area progression here: x and x Dabb is really hammering home the grey area / balance themes in the middle for endgame and I love him for it.

- DEAD MANS BLOOD BULLETS what a great idea! I’ve not seen anyone comment on this yet but honestly, this is up there with salt hoolahoops and exorcisms saved on your phone ;)

- Sam “chief” Winchester. I’m living. I mean let the dude take a nap but the concept and symbolism of him as the leader, taking charge of the hunters and the bunker, Mary as his lieutenant, everyone looking up to him with respect because of what he has done and who he is rather than out of fear or duty... I can’t express just how much I love this and am grateful it’s as blatant as it is.

- Castiel gets kidnapped and used as “bait” (yes there’s like 5 layers of symbolism here and I hate/love it) and the whole thing with Sam telling them there’ll be no king of Hell goes down in Detroit. Yeah sure tell me Dabb doesn’t care about mirrors and previous canon references, parallels and subversions ;)

- I just can’t even with Sassy!Cas *rolls eyes* *uses “GOD” as a blatant blasphemy* is just so human, being so done when Kip makes his stupid OTT grand entrance whilst Cas is calmly sat in front of the fire pit and then tells him he’ll burn him to ash. YES MY SON.

- “Joined at the... (Dick)”. Yes Kip I get you, everyone does, literally everyone thinks they’re boning, cos duh, but you see they could actually have an ounce of happiness within the chaos if they weren’t so bloody miscommunicative and self hating that they haven’t even admitted their feelings let alone touched each other yet below the shoulder. But yes, please, do join the hoards of characters on the show who assume they are a couple.

*Tink stares into the camera*

- The less said about Michael’s puny ass winged ‘twuform’ the better. Yes it looks like a pigeon with disproportionally tiny wings, yes it looks like Dean bent his halo (lolz) but aside from the humour there’s nothing good about this.

- Michael: Dean said yes for love. Ah yes. The power of love. I love to be reminded that this whole show’s premise since the pilot is love. Thanks Satan.

- Michael thinks Anael is everything Cas is. “The rebel, the Angel who doesn’t like playing by Heaven’s rules” I mean jeez, like a hammer to the face much! Well, Danneel said she did want to play Castiel so ;) x and x

- Tbh I also got massive self reflection vibes here off the next part on performing!Dean and I just love how all this comes out of Dean’s own mouth, it’s just so symbolic. Every time Michael says something it seems to be a reflection on John or Dean or daddy issues of some sort.

Re: Performing!Dean: “You pretend to care about these things... pretty things, but that’s all it is, pretending. These trinkets, they don’t make you happy they just pass the time, they’re not what you really want”. *Tink stares at all of the meta on Performing!Dean repression by overcompensating, especially with sex to pass the time and try to alleviate his mood with women, especially since season 7, every time Cas is gone and he’s pining*.

- What do you really want? This basically works for both Dean and Cas (and Sam too to be fair but he’s not been mirrored previously so I’m going with the symbolism here being most relevant to Cas mirror Anael and Dean whose literally saying it through a veil): “love, to belong, to have a place a home a family... it’s very very human”.

- *Cough* blatant easy link and exposition of endgame Human!Cas and Nonperforming!Dean. *sends Dabb a giant fruit and donut basket*

- Cleary the theme of season 14 is “what do you want” just as season 13′s was “who are you”. Excellently linked themes.

- Sam is just going around all episode fixing other peoples issues and taking no time for himself, he needs a friend and a nap.

- Jack is actually not doing badly considering and I’m so happy they made him sad and angsty without being an annoying whiney teenager (I do have an issue with how Claire was made into this and am annoyed with the m/f difference but sigh, clearly they were trying to do something better with WS. Sigh again).

- I actually kinda loved the Sam / Nick scene. Since it was clear Mark P was coming back (literally why Satan) I made peace with it and expected Nick and I hope they continue with it as well as I think it started. Mark’s little gestures of itching and wincing really helped with the overall feel here so through gritted teeth I say kudos. Jared steals the show though at his own minute facial expressions and the deep meaning of this scene for him, I’m sure he enjoyed acting this immensely as he’s always cared a lot for the Sam/Lucifer storyline and it’s closure. Obviously it’s got implications for Michael!Dean so let’s see what happens. Sam was amazing obviously, man, I just... really hope Bucklemming don’t fuck this up as Nick’s likely their play thing. Fingers crossed, it’s off to a good start.

- If they really do follow through on this really cack-handed obvious “we can kill Michael by stabbing Dean and save Dean” story then I’ll be really fucking disappointed. This is lazy and too obvious, it also negates all the possibility for the Dean/John mirror from 2x01 with John angry at them for not killing him to kill Azazel and thus leading into Dean’s blatantly exposed self worth arc throughout the season while he struggles to feel worthy of being alive at the potential expense of the world, with his family telling him he does deserve to be saved (>...>). I mean... I just can’t really get my head around this not happening? Or it being so frankly badly written if it is? It feels more like a red herring to me, like, a giant red herring. If it doesn’t happen like this and they just stab Michael with the shittyretconblade then I’ll be shocked. Though I’ll be less shocked if it’s in the Bucklemming episode and I’ll attribute this to their shitty writing and Dabb really having zero fucking says in his own show anymore and the whole thing going downhill moving forwards. So either way it’s bad. So fingers, toes and everything crossed this isn’t what happens.

- The fact that Cas knew Sam would come save him gives me so many happy feels whereas I feel only a few seasons ago he would have said he’s not worth saving / why would Sam bother. He trusts Sam and he believes Sam loves him. Happy Tink.

- “He just told you he’s a demon?” “Yep”. I love Sassy! Sam.

- Bait. It’s kind of what you’re for isn’t it? I just... That was so hilariously triple, quadruple, whatever, entendre... bait for the audience, bait for the Winchesters, bait associated with fish as Castiel usually is, just, it made me laugh out loud and @bluestar86 looked at me like I’d gone nuts but I loved the cleverness of it. Though also fuck you Cas is more than bait ;) I mean Dabb knows that he loves Cas he’s being tongue in cheek but yeah, this made me chuckle big time.

- Michael has been to see Kip and it again hopefully will be a continuation of the theme of Michael being so black and white he turns grey people black or white. I’d love to see an opposite where his asking this question of what do you want actually makes someone choose to do the right thing.

- Mary “I have to think about the good Sam, because if I don’t I’ll just drown in the bad, for Dean’s sake I can’t do that, we can’t do that”. Wow. Mary ploughing on, seemingly cold to others until she’s probed, revealing her internal emotional struggle, forever threatening to overflow and the actual drive for her actions that in full circle are what makes her come across as uncaring. If this isn’t Mary’s whole arc since her resurrection in one sentence. If it ain’t also a massive TFW mirror. IN ONE SENTENCE. GOD I LOVE ANDREW DABB OK?!

- Bobby re-emphasising the family theme to Jack in the impala, reminiscent of Jack telling the Winchester’s they are his family in the impala last season.

- Equating Sam to Beyoncé for his glorious physique, hair and overall legend / icon status is just A. Brilliantly hilarious and reminding us how great Sam is but also B. So cool to give zero shits that Beyoncé is a woman and is just as capable of being a role model for a guy. Kudos Dabb. C. I just imagine Cas looking on like but I’m Beyoncé! ;)

- The fight scene is just too embarrassing, that knife flip between Mary and Sam is so 80’s bionic man and more wires like, my dudes, my guys, stawwwwwwp. I’m also annoyed tbh that Maggie is for some reason a young, relatively helpless and hapless girl rather than being an AU survivor and hunter. Like, why even bring her from the off no questions asked while questioning Jack, if she’s so helpless she’s hiding and gormless to the point Mary had to actually ask her if she knows how to stab someone. This is weird and I hope they’re going to show her developing cos urgh. wtf.

- Cas is “still breathing” after fighting like a human and being all bloodied up like a human without healing himself. straight into the #human!cas tag.

- Callbacks to Crowley and as @bluestar86 said Kip just reminds us of another demon dude from 14x08 and this is totally true, “Barthamus call me Bart" and “Kipling call me Kip”. What’s next, “Judas call me J”?.

- Sam’s “enough!”

is the best moment of this episode hands down and I am excite for this symbolism for his character growth. I don’t personally think this is at all him declaring he’s King or Regent, he’s just asserting his very puny human authority, albeit as the one time could have been ruler but he isn’t and doesn’t want to be, and regardless the demons fear him for who he is as Sam Winchester not as a potential king.

BOOM> Sam Fucking Winchester amiright?!

He’s feared by demons because of who he chooses to be as a person and he’s respected by humans for who he chooses to be.

It’s a total mirror opposite.

It’s a bookend.

I LOVE it.

DAMN DABB.

- Cas supporting Sam, the only one who really asks how he is, is such brother / best friend goals. Sam being honest about his feelings and the opposite mirror of Cas deflecting from his own when Sam asks how he is in return is painful. Please Cas, tell us what you want.

- “Sunshine”. OK but literally the whole point of that scene was Bobby calling Mary sunshine while flirting with beer bottles. Nothing else happened. It’s like Dabb is literally wielding a Destiel subtext hammer and bashing it into canon in new and interesting ways every moment he can at this point when they’re not even in the episode or scene. I’m reminded of David/Violet. I wanted Mary/Bobby Destiel parallels and we got it in episode 1. Excellent.

- Cas and Jack have their deeply meaningful mirroring scene about feeling human whilst both sporting mirroring injuries from mirrored wounds and both being punched in the face. (Dabb loves mirrors so much I may send him a fruit and donut basket with a great big mirror inside too for shits and giggles).

Cas and Jack’s scene is yet more exposition that neither are valid due to their powers but valid and loved for who they are.

Just as Sam is feared by demons and respected by humans for who he is not due to any demon blood or destiny.

Just as Dean is loved and will be saved by his family because of who he is not how useful he is as a tool.

I’m reminded of my tag #season who we are 13 because that was so set up in that season from Dabb’s own premiere, showing just how much he does hark back and have a clear and consistent thematic overview of his story.

You may by this point see why I’m quite so done with the Dabb bashing on SM this week? How it’s totally inconsistent with the actual canon of the show? That he clearly knows exactly what he’s doing thematically even if he’s not so hot on small details and Bucklemming/Singer take turns dumping a turd into his and the others writers’ pot of gold every now and again? Yeah, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

- LET SAM SLEEP 2k19!!!

#spn 14x01 #tinks meta #watching notes #supernatural #destiel #supernatural meta #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam fucking winchester #castiel #mary fucking winchester #mary winchester #im an idiot and forgot to put a cut in sorry everyone!

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patolozka · 5 years ago

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Delivery of the Antichrist (GO ficlet)

Good Omens, ineffable husbands, humor

Author: @patolozka; Beta-read: @adelay94

Summary: Early in the show Crowley said: “I should know. I delivered the baby. Well, not "delivered" delivered, you know?” And I said: “Really?” And it’s the complete story.

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19974829

ooOoo

Once upon a time, there was a phone call:

“Aziraphale, we.... oh… we need to talk!”

“Crowley, is that you? You sound agitated.”

“Yes, yes, an-gel, you’re quite right.”

“...So I presume, this is all about... “

“Armageddon-aaah… yeah!”

“Crowley, my dear, what…”

“Just get in here, angel!”

“Well, yes, of course. The usual place?”

“No, my place!”

And then he was gone...

Well, that was strange, the angel thought but he went to Mayfair anyway.

To know the beginning of this little story we need to be present at one moment at the graveyard on the regular infernal meeting a week earlier.

“You will deliver the baby, Crowley.”

“Me? But this isn’t, you know… my scene.”

“Your scene. Your starring role. Take it," Hastur said with satisfaction and Ligur laughed maniacally.

“But… why me? I’m sure, there are plenty of suitable…” Crowley tried.

“Like you said… they love you Down There, Crowley. Now do it!” Hastur commended and in his eyes was just enough of darkness and thread, that Crowley felt the need to swallow down his next intended words.

And this is how Crowley ended up in his own flat a week later, sweating and panting for air with a big swollen belly that was in every few moments convulsing and bringing him quite a lot of pain.

That of course didn’t keep him from cursing internally (as cursing loudly would bring him even more pain, he was sure of it). He was cursing his Lord for doing this to him. Cursing Hell and all its damn bureaucracy that couldn’t skip him for once. Cursing Hastur for the infernal pill he made him swallow. Cursing Ligur for being there, looking stupid and laughing all over his face. Cursing himself for being cursed for the first time. Cursing Earth for being here. Cursing humans for being weak and cursing God for creating their suffering. He was even cursing Aziraphale for being late…

In summary there were a lot of things he could be cursing. And before the end of this interlude there will be even more.

It was not that Aziraphale was late. He was even early as it took him only eight minutes instead of his usual fifteen to transport from his bookshop to Crowley’s flat. So he was early but for this occasion it was the same as being late.

“Crowley, my dear boy?” he exclaimed from the opened front door as inviting himself into foreign flat didn't seem polite at all (it doesn’t matter that Crowley was doing this to him all the time.).

“In-urgh aaah-HERE!” echoed somewhere from the inside of the flat.

“Crowley,” he carefully stepped inside and closed the door after himself, “what is going…”

Aziraphale stopped on the spot as he caught sight of him. “My dear, what have they done to you?”

“As you can see,” the demon who was heavily leaning on his modern couch breathed, “they have done THIS to me, ahhh.”

He bit into his own hand and tried to breathe through the constricting pain not bothering to look at the greatly shaken angel.

And Aziraphale really was greatly shaken, down to his angelic core. Not by the sight of him (as he was used to Crowley’s different forms) and not even by all the obvious baby delivery in progress but by what it all meant for him, for them and for the world.

And you can follow the chaotic road of his thoughts with me now of you like..

The Antichrist, Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness was meant to bring the destruction to the known world.

And Crowley was a vessel for Antichrist.

And Crowley was delivering the Antichrist himself.

And Crowley was… Crowley was in grave pain. Fuck it all!

Well, that was quick, don’t you think? Even for our angel.

“Um, angel, are you going to stare at me all day or are you going to lend me a hand here!”

“Uh, yes, yes, I’m coming, my dear, of course!”

And that was it, really, not much fuss about it. Just the two supernatural beings trying to give birth to the third supernatural being that could by coincidence destroy the world.

When is was all over and the baby was peacefully sleeping in the basket (of course in the basket, where were you thinking), Crowley was leaning carefully on the couch and just staring at the ceiling (there was something interesting on it - something like two microscopic spots or something).

Aziraphale sat beside him and sighed silently.

“What are we going to do now?”

“Dunno, angel. Any ideas?”

“Well,” the angel licked his lips, “I could of course thwart the diabolical plans as usual.”

“Which are?”

“Which are giving the baby to the American cultural attaché and so on as you said.”

“And how are you going to thwart them?”

“Well… I think something simple would do it.”

“Like?”

“Like… a trifle. Ordinary human mistake.”

The demon smiled a little demonically. “I think you are right, angel. That could do it nicely.”

And he rested his head on angel’s shoulder.

Well… and that was it, the delivery of the famous baby. Now they just needed to deliver him. Properly. And save the world of course...

#Good Omens fic #delivering of the Antichrist #my fic #just something a little funny

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doomedandstoned · 6 years ago

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What Weird Tales We Weave!

During a particularly long and vicious Pacific Northwest winter, I developed a strange affinity for a band called WEIRD TALES. The doom trio of Dima (guitars, vox), Kriss (bass, vox), and Kava (drums) emerged three or four years ago from a part of the world that gets cold, miserable weather ten times as worse as mine. I was never quite sure what to make of the Warsaw band's warped, sloggy sound, made all the more odd with its imposing Gothic vocals and pernicious earworms. All I knew was that Weird Tales had some bad, bad medicine to offer during a time in life when I'd grown pretty jaded and disillusioned. It was, as the well-worn saying goes, just what the doctor ordered.

Before us is the latest and most ambitious effort to date from Weird Tales and I must say it's showing me a brave new side to the band. As 'Hell Services Cost A Lot' (2019) opens, we hear an orchestral crescendo of screeching feedback. Dogs are barking in the background, perhaps to warn lurkers of dangers just beyond the shadows. The band responds with a vicious beating of guitar, bass, and drums. It's an attack we're not used to hearing on doom records and I find it refreshing to break away from the gloom for a chance to vent some good old fashioned aggression. This instrumental preamble eventually gives way to the first words of "Madness" and the record is off to take care of its mischief.