Chapter Text

PANDAMONICA

Occasionally, even after all this time, Zacharias Grimm wondered how he got himself into this situation. Once his father had acquired himself a demon harem, the question came up quite a bit in those first few months after Zach had made their acquaintance. That being the polite way of saying they nearly killed him mentally and emotionally, then once physically, or maybe call that digitally.

But, eventually, opinions cooled and tensions settled for the sake of an old merc with more heart than sense. Then after that, his relations with a certain Tired Demon heated up quite nicely. Twas a slow burn at first, a chaste peck failing and becoming saucy but after that they got a touch more explorative. Hell, Zach even killed a dragon and rescued her from a tower, which is not a metaphor for helping with her workload, which he also did.

And while Young Man Grimm was certainly not opposed to a singular positive romantic relationship finally appearing in his life, there was the conundrum of bedroom activities. After what he had to deal with during his highschool days at the hands of them, then it would stand to reason that Pandemonica’s idea of fun would be viciously antithetical to every sense of positivity that he’d ever had. Upon review, the first chip in that particular iceberg had to have been Pan agreeing with him completely.

Their relationship had come as something of a surprise for both of them. The first impressions between them had been about as bad as was possible, Pan co-opting his research den and then being partially responsible for the destruction of his physical copies and then Zach throwing hands in a fit of righteous rage. Despite that, eventually a kinship of sorts began to form between them, built on a foundation of ‘Fuck I hate dealing with idiots.’ It was a rock solid foundation indeed.

Like reasonable adults, they had spoken in depth once they realized that friends don’t usually spend this much time making out and getting handsy. They talked about expectations, rules, hopes, and dreams and all sorts of mushy things like that. When it came to activities of a more carnal nature, Zach was firm that he’d rather not be tied down and beaten like a rented mule, to which Pandemonica acquiesced while leaving the offer open. After they got into the swing of things, she was more than satisfied with riding him like a mule anyways.

As time went on and their bond deepened, it was Zach who found himself suddenly laden with curiosities. Small and unbidden things that nonetheless accosted him quietly; Why does Zdrada prefer the wooden paddle to the plastic? Is there any real difference between the feel of the whip and the cat-o-nine-tails? And why does my demon girlfriend have three different kinds of rope?

Eventually curiosity defeated long set PTSD and Zach spoke to Pandemonica about his growing interest in her more sadistic pleasures. He was worried she’d jump him like a lioness and be just as gentle. Instead, a smile as soft as her hair spread over her features and she took him by the hand to her room. There, she quietly went over her tools, the what, the why, and the how of it all, doing her best to be as factual and clinical as possible. Nevermind what the thought of Her Twink blindfolded and shibari’d was doing for her loins.

They started slow, oh so slow, and there were many a session that Zach “Totally ruined by being a bitch/Was too scared to admit he wasn’t ready for” but eventually they found their rhythm. Zach always said it helped to have Zdrada around for Pan to really let loose on, something the Not So Tired Anymore Demon denied every time.

Zach was drawn out of his reminiscing as the wooden paddle clapped against his bare backside once more, his cheeks surely as red as his undyed hair by now. The Mistress chuckled, one part sadistically amused and an equal part finding him cute when trussed up like a Saturnalia gift.

Whatever other musings he had for his life up to this point would have to wait, as it seemed that she was just about ready to really kick things up a notch. And while you’d have to be exceptionally fucked in the head to call these sessions therapeutic, it would be disingenuous to say they hadn’t been great for Zach’s mental health, and maybe his durability as well.

MODEUS

Zach woke up slowly, groggy eyes fighting to keep the daylight out despite years of habit. It wasn’t until he was standing out of his bed and halfway to the door that his viewing orbs accepted defeat and let him see where he was going. As he entered the hall, he glanced at the clock and nearly keeled over from panic.

9AM was far later in the day than he had awoken in longer than he could remember and the Son of the Helltaker knew that that meant trouble while watching his father’s harem. Despite sloth being a favored sin of theirs on their ‘vacation,’ rarely were any of the demons asleep this late into the day. Old Man Grimm’s cooking raised the damned with ease and the harem/polycule had gotten into the habit of being pampered every morning.

The young man of the house sprinted down the stairs and turned into the dining room. He barely noted the set table and the contented, demonic faces surrounding it as he barreled into the kitchen. And face first into Modeus’s generous, be-sweatered cleavage.

“Morning Zach!” The Lustful Demon cheered, bright eyed and swishing tailed.

“Mmmphm.” Zach replied with all the vocal grace of a Shakespearean master.

“At least wait until after breakfast,” Modues chided, pulling him from her bosom. “You need your strength back, young man.”

“I, uh, huh…” He eloquently retorted as he looked around the kitchen. Clearly, someone else had made breakfast today for the whole house. A plate had even been saved for him, strawberries bisected and arranged into the shape of a heart on top of his pancakes.

“I had to fight Cerberus to save those, so I hope they were worth the effort.”

“I’m sure they are, dear.” Zach mumbled before giving her a peck on the cheek. Her cheeks turned crimson as the hearts that orbited her head at a mile a minute and a predatory gleam entered her eyes.

“Eat fast Zach, Mamadeus needs an encore of last night.”

“How did Dad’s pelvis survive you?” He bemoaned halfheartedly through a mouthful of pancake and fruit.

“Don’t worry, Azazel will be on standby taking notes, you’ll live.” She huffed, hints of steam coming with her breath.

Zach gulped down a mouthful of breakfast, anxiety, and a sprinkling of excitement.

CERBERUS

“You have to admit, it’s kind of endearing.” Helltaker commented.

“I don’t have to admit shit.” Zach defended.

“They say it’s the thought that counts.”

“They also say not to stick your dick in crazy.”

“It’s got a certain ‘postmodern’ quality to it, in my opinion.”

“The only thing that’s ‘postmodern’ about it is the legislature that’s going to be passed to stop it from happening again.”

“I’ll get the hose?” Taker offered the olive branch to his son.

“I’ll get a shovel?” Zach asked.

“Fire pit?”

“Fire pit.”

“Hello boys, what are we…” Lucifer trailed as she entered the backyard and saw the topic of discussion. She shrieked as she asked “What on God’s unholy Earth is that?!?”

A legion of carrion, expertly sculpted by three sets of hands. Four humanoid forms, three identical and one a consistently grouchy young man. A massive, cartoonish heart painted in who knows how much actual blood that occasionally pumped. ‘Will you be our Valentine?’ written across the top of the manufactured organ. And, barely concealed in a bush ten paces off, was the Triplet Demon, tails wagging and faces pouting like only puppies can manage.

“I think he likes it.”
“Are you sure? He’s breaking out the kerescene.”
“Of course he likes it. That’s why he’s setting it on fire, because WE like things being on fire.” Cerberus nodded to herself, the only one capable of following her logic.

MALINA

“What’s the matter, V0dk@_D@em0n?” One of Malina’s teammates asked over the mic. “You’re off your game tonight and you’re never off your game.”

“Fuck off.” She growled into her headset. “Everyone’s got their off days, I’m allowed to be distracted by IRL shit and not have to carry your dog ass on occasion.”

“Damn bitch, chillll.” The rest of the lobby was a chorus of agreements with both sides. “I figured you just finally grew a pair and asked out that cute guy you were talking about.”

Malina smirked at the computer screen as a wicked idea came to her. She surreptitiously took her head set off and lowered the mic just under the desk. There was a cacophony of noises through the earphones at what they heard, half in approval and the other half in disgust.

“What was that?" Zach stopped his ministrations to ask.

“Nothing, babe.” Malina waited to reply until she had her headset back on to reply. “Just put that tongue back to use.”

He did just that and sent another series of convulsions through the Sour Demon’s body. This was going to be hell on her K/D, but that was a small price to pay. It was a good thing she started with a shooter with this idea, if they had started with Heroes III, Zach would have drowned by now.

ZDRADA

With the last chord struck, silence reigned for a moment. Just long enough for Zdrada to come down from the high of performing and anxiety to start its chilling creep up her spine. Then the club erupted in cheers and screams of adulation. She swore she even saw a few of them foaming at the mouth, which she still chose to take as a positive sign.

With a cocky chuckle, she gripped her guitar by the neck in one hand and waved at her fans as she made her way off stage. After that song, she wasn’t interested much in sampling the crowd tonight. Definitely not because she was considering a certain someone’s feelings, Zdrada the Rock’n’Roll Demon wasn’t a pussy like that. Besides, the band did a damn fine job tonight, might as well reward the twerps.

She headed back to the dressing room the venue had given her for the night and collapsed into the chair in front of the mirror. Zdrada put her whole pussy into tonight’s performance and metaphorically fucked the pants off this joint, she knew that for a fact. Any other night and she’d be wired like a mile of coke had shot up her nostrils and launched her into the fun zone, but tonight she felt like a living dead girl. Before she had time to wonder about that, the door opened once more and was shut gently.

“Well Zach,” The rocker drawled. “Do I rock or do I fucking rock?”

“I’m not sure.” He teased, cracking the door open again. Even from this deep backstage, it was impossible to miss the adoration of her crowd. “They certainly seem to think so.”

“Oh, just them?” She leaned back in her chair and threw her head back to get an upside down view of her manager/boytoy/only sappy losers have boyfriends, shut up. “You wound me.”

“I do too, trust me, I was just thinking.” Zach meandered his way to where she sat and plopped down on the vanity. “That last number had some interesting lyrics.”

“All my lyrics are interesting, fuck off.” Zdrada grumbled, getting up to check that her guitar was still good.

“‘The scars on his chest aren’t just skin deep.’” He sang, pitch perfect with her last song. Zdrada saw this confrontation coming and she still froze as he slowly crept up behind her. “‘I can’t fix him and he can’t fix me, but maybe we don’t need fixin. Maybe we can just grow and heal and love together.’”

“You aren’t the only guy in the world with chest scars, ya know?”

“I never said anything about myself.” His smirk was audible and Zdrada wanted to crush it under her own lips, but he had her hypnotized to the spot with his soulful singing. “‘His daddy’s bigger but the boy’s better, the daddy’s badder but the boy’s kinder. I wanna make him sin and he makes me wanna worship.’”

“There a stop between h-here and the fuckin point?” Hearing herself stammer, Zdrada wished for hell to open up and swallow her back. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

“Modues would have dropped dead if she heard something that romantic.” Zach congratulated as he worked his way down her neck and to her collarbone.

“Not the bitch I was thinking of when I was on stage.” Zdrada practically moaned as he slowly, glacially, painfully slowly began to work the buttons of her shirt.

“You’re right, silly me.” That devious fucking tongue slithered out of Zach’s throat and caressed her neck. Zdrada would later congratulate herself on owning an iron will, that being the only possible explanation for not collapsing in a romantic, sweaty pile right then and there as he spoke in a smoky tone. “Here, let me make sure you never think of anyone else ever again.”

He was right.

AZAZEL

"Hey...."

"Mmng." Azazel groaned, feeling someone give her a little peck on the head.

"Come on. We gotta wake up."

"Nooooo..." she whined. "Five more minutes."

"Is that a little bit of sloth I see in you?"

She forced herself up with a light-hearted groan, turning to pout down at her neighbor in the bed.

"That's not funny."

Judgement smiled softly despite the sharp teeth she flashed. "A High Prosecutor always has to watch for warning signs, love. Don’t want you falling down the wrong path."

She propped herself up on her elbows and made a face like she was thinking, only accentuated by the conspicuous hum she made before she continued.

"Though I suppose if you did fall, I'd have you allll to myself."

"You're terrible." She huffed, not even resisting as she felt a chain slither up her leg and wrap around her tummy, yanking her back to fall face-first into Judgement's chest with a giggle.

"GREAT and terrible! AS A HIGH PROSECUTOR SHOULD BE!" she bellowed before pulling Azazel up a bit further to lavish her with little kisses.

"Ahaha- Judge- hah- Judgement! You're too loud!"

"Oh the last part of our little trinity's been up for a while now, dearest." She spoke a bit more softly.

Azazel poked her head up and sniffed at the air, smiling even wider as the scent of fresh breakfast hit her nostrils.

"I guess sleeping in has its perks."

"And I guess I'll have a fallen lover after all with talk like that."

"Terrible!" She squeaked as Judgement laughed once more, letting her lover get up and out of bed before following after her down the stairs.

The carpeted steps muffled their footfalls, morseso in Azazel’s case than the High Prosecutor. As they went, the Curious Angel looked at the walls of their home and reminisced over the days they spent painting it. Blue and gold for the upper half, tasteful black and red for the lower. What had originally been a simple separation of the sections had been transformed into a masterpiece in miniature by a certain researcher of mythologies. Covering the stairway portion in Katabasis style stories had been truly inspired.

Azazel pretended not to notice how Judgement stopped to watch her waddle her way down the final step. Out of the three of them, the Angel was certainly the most experienced with her current condition, she would know if she was about to fall or not. The fact that she almost stumbled on the last step certainly didn’t help her point, but it was nice to be in Judgement’s arms.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She quietly insisted before Judy could even ask.

“Yes you are.” The Gargoyle smoldered.

“Terrible.” Azazel booped her lover’s nose and entered the kitchenette.

Shirtless except for an apron, Zacharias Grimm worked his culinary magic at the oven. The musculature of his back looked marvelous in the morning light, what relatively little scarring he had back there hardly noticeable to Azazel’s lovestruck eyes. She watched him flip a crepe and catch it deftly with the pan. Perhaps today would be the day she convinces him that the delicious treats his father had taught him were pancakes in the same sense that dinosaurs were birds.

Azazel crept up behind her human lover, her socks expertly muffling the sound of her footfalls as she approached. She snaked her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his back, feeling quiet joy radiate off him in waves.

“It seems I’m in the arms of an angel.” She could hear the pleasant smile in his voice.

“Good morning~” She sighed.

Zach turned around and leaned into her embrace.

“Good morning mój anielica.” He crooned before bending down a bit to kiss her. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“You know, I think I’d like to handle breakfast one of these days.”

“If you wake up before I do, the stove’s all yours.” He turned back to his cooking, determined as always to make sure that his paramours’ breakfasts were perfect. “Until then, it’s a pleasure to serve Heaven in my own way. Feel free to grab some hot buns in the meantime.”

He stiffened as there was a distinctive squeeze on his posterior. He leveled a smirking glare over his shoulder at the offending Angel. To her credit, she at least tried to look abashed at the look, even if her grin was full of mischief.

“Wrong buns.”

“But you said to grab the hot ones!” Azazel playfully protested.

"Tch... you'll be the death of me someday."

"The High Prosecutor regularly treats with Heaven. Judgement could still be with us."

"Uh-huh. Well how about you go and sit with her instead of violating me with your perversions?"

"I dunno, I only got the one bun. Might be hungry for more." She began to advance on Zach once more, making grabby hands towards his rear.

"Out!" He shouted, barely suppressing a laugh as he shoved her out of the kitchen.

Azazel did as told, waddling over to the dining room table that Judgement already sat at. Her gray skinned love stood and pulled her table out with a serene smile. The Curious Angel sat and traded notes about Zach’s rump with his other number one fan, hand absently rubbing her protruding stomach.

Eventually, the father of her unborn child came out with plates of lovely treats, the highest stack off all set before herself. She made to protest, but father and other mother both argued that she was eating for two now and needed to keep her strength up. Azazel sighed and accepted their arguments with the grace of the divine while her baby girl’s other parents argued about the child’s future profession.

Azazel was just happy that she would have a child with her best friends and lovers to gift a future, no greater miracle possible in all of God’s Creation.

JUSTICE

“What can I help you with, Justice?” Zach asked the eponymous Awesome Demon as she entered his room with her trademark grin.

“I want some cash, you can afford to splash, so details let’s hash!” She slapped her hands together and rubbed them determinedly.

“Oh nice. Nice alliteration there. Alright, everyone else has hit me with threats or some sort of trade, let’s hear what you have to offer.” He set down his research and turned to give her his full attention.

“Two-hundred bucks and you can call me mommy for a week.”

“Deal.”

“What?”

“What?”

The pair of them stared up at the ceiling for what felt like the longest time. Justice passed him a cigarette and Zach accepted without a word as she lit it with a flame from her thumb. The bed wasn’t beyond repair but most of the bedding could now only be cleansed in fire. Their clothes were acceptable sacrifices for the sacrilege they committed together this night. A quick glance confirmed that they both certainly had feelings on this matter, they just weren’t yet finished sorting them.

“For the record, that was awe-”

“We’re not doing that.”

“Fair.” Justice accepted. She paused before taking a deep breath to address the elephant in the room. “We’re gonna have to tell your dad.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think he’d be pissed.” She turned and gave him her full attention. Not to mention a pretty awesome view. “Honestly, I get the impression he might be kind of proud.”

“That is so much worse.” Zach’s voice had a far away quality to it, like a vocal thousand yard stare.

“I gotta admit, Zach.” Taker said with a hand on his boy’s shoulder. Justice had explained the situation to Lucifer and they both thought this was pertinent enough to transport the father back for the night. “I’m not even mad.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Zach whispered, staring off into the middle distance through the Taker.

“Honestly, I’m proud of you. I always knew you would grow up to be a real charmer, just needed the right motivation.” The Helltaker turned to look at Justice and even his oblivious ass could tell her usual smirk was just a touch strained today. “I guess the apple really doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Dad, please, I’m begging you.” Zach wanted to scream but couldn’t get more than a whispered whimper out.

“I’m gonna miss her but I think you two will make a good fit.” He nodded, basically talking to himself at this point. “There was this one time she took her shirt off and let me use her abs to-”

“Father.” Zach spoke with the gravity of every child that has ever been forced to listen in disgust to their parent’s sex life. “I swear, if you keep talking, then this apple is going to cut down the family tree.”

“Alright, alright. ”Taker patted his son on the back and nodded at his former lover. “It looks like you two need to talk, so I’ll leave you to it. Let me know when you’re done, I wanna catch up with you while I’m in town for the night.”

“Yeah, alright, sure.”

The Helltaker headed downstairs and was immediately mugged by a houseful of horny demon girls. No male was sleeping in this home tonight.

“So…” Justice drawled as she leaned against the wall next to Zach. Her own world view had done a little flip recently, having resolved to try to be more of a mother figure in the ki-young man’s life. From a certain perspective she succeeded, if a bit more MILF than Mother.

“I cucked the man and he congratulated me.” Zach’s voice was undisguised in its haunted tenor.

“Yeah, yeah you did. And you could linger on that and let it drive you up the wall. Or.” She turned and pinned a well muscled arm next to Zach’s head. She met his gaze and tilted down her shades, speaking in a husky tone. “You still have a week left out of the $200 you spent. Wanna use it?”

His eye twitched. He stared into her blind orbs, trying to find the meaning to the madness of his life. In that moment, Zacharias Grimm learned why skulls grinned and he followed suit.

He got a lot of use out of that $200 purchase.

LUCIFER

“Come along then, Zacharias.” The Devil, Lucifer, commanded as her stilettos cracked her steps against the tiled floor. “We’ve much to do and little time in which to do it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Zach sighed as he trailed in her wake. He knew why she asked for his help in Valentine shopping for his father, but that didn’t make the exercise any less aggravating.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” She turned and teasingly pinched his cheek a little harder than would be considered playful. “You’re doing your step-mom a favor and she’s the Prince of this World!”

“Cool, another for the handful.” He grumbled as he pulled himself from her grip. She chuckled as she stepped away, leaving Zach rooted to the spot as he thought. “Wait, step-mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Lucifer stopped and turned back to look at him quizzically.

“Not like that. It’s just, I’m not sure you’ve ever said that stone-cold sober before.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away in thought.

“Well, of course I…” The First Fallen stopped as she thought. Upon review, the boy was right, damn him. “Hmm, so it would seem.”

With certainty, the Devil walked up to the son of her paramour and looked down on him. Zach was a good 6 foot plus some change and even without the heels and horns Lucifer had to swivel her eyes down to meet his gaze. She gave him a chaste peck on the forehead before turning on her heel and heading deeper into the store.

“Come along then, we haven’t all day.” Lucifer made sure he couldn’t see her face as she spoke. He undermined her enough as is, seeing her in such a state would be the death of her tenuous seat of authority within his mind.

Zach blinked several times in rapid succession before shaking his head with a disbelieving grin.

“Whatever you say, Mum.” He followed after her. And if he caught a glimpse of how red her face had turned or how much she fought to keep a smile down, he kept that to himself.

JUDGEMENT

Judgement watched from the archway between the dining room and the kitchenette as Azazel 'harassed’ Zach while he was making all three of them breakfast. The sight warmed her heart with something gentler than hellfire and she couldn’t help but hum as she returned to her seat. It was an old tune, from back when she was being forged in Heaven.

They never actually taught her any of the hymns in the brief period between her birth and her being sent to Justice as her replacement. But there was a choir that met weekly not too far from where she was kept and they made the most beautiful music with nothing but their voices and fiery passion.

As Azazel took her seat at the table and Zach not far behind with their breakfast, Judgement thought of a different kind of music that was no less passionate. Sexual relations with her lovers, of course, but other things too. Content sighs as they relaxed from stressful days, moans of relief from well performed massages. Decrying the latest plot twist in whatever show was taking up their month and the cheers that would follow protagonists triumphing over adversity. The differences in Azazel’s footfalls now that she was the first of the two of them to carry Zach’s child and if Judgement had any say in the matter her Angel wouldn’t be the last.

Zach said something ridiculous about their spawn not being the fairer sex or the next High Prosecutor and Judgement added her own brass bravado to their familial orchestra. What sweet music the three of them made together.

LOREMASTER

“Operation Irminsul, log date number 2.” Loremaster proudly declared. “Earliest DNA experimentation confirms encouraging results from yesterday’s classification of the sample, while Batch 4 officially ends and Batch 5 begins. I once more push down the temptation to begin including the sample into this latest batch, but I have faith in my process. However, it occurs to me that it would behoove me to ensure that I have multiple samples on the off chance something untoward happens, either to my current sample or the source before I have need of him. With this in mind, I shall once more venture into the human world to acquire DNA of the Prime Pagan.”

“Operation Irminsul, log date number 5.” Loremaster centered herself to ensure her excited humming doesn’t interrupt her notetaking. “I have determined that the Prime Pagan is among the more cultured of his kind and has an appreciation for Nippon based animations that aligns with my own. We had a very pleasant discussion about the nuances of the medium and how it eclipses other forms of entertainment. He disagreed on that last part, but I attribute that more to a God-given humbleness than an actual desire to be factually incorrect. Despite today’s operation being a technical failure, it ended with an opportunity for another attempt during the weekend.”

She returned to humming when a thought occurred to her.

“Additional note: Hack Prime Pagan’s online searches in an effort to determine what arrangement of clothing would garner the optimal positive response to myself.”

“Operation Irminsul, log date number 8.” Loremaster intoned with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “The secondary DNA sample from the Prime Pagan has been deemed too contaminated by angelic saliva to be of value. Note for future extraction attempts: While oral extraction ensures acceptable compliance from the subject and removes the necessity for wasteful communication, it would likely necessitate the Subject finishing inside a containment unit, which would make subterfuge difficult.”

She paused and scratched her chin in thought with her recording device for a moment.

“Addendum: Research modern human methodology of oral extraction in preparation for next week’s attempt at DNA sampling. Also, inquire if Zacharias would be willing to introduce more pineapples to his diet, I prefer sweet to bitter.”

“Operation Irminsul, log date number 17.” Loremaster whispered from the bathroom of her hotel room, not wanting her Subject to hear. “While this pelvic method of extraction is both effective and physically satisfactory, I worry that it will result in contamination of the sample. Due to Zach’s stamina, it seems that there will be multiple chances to acquire samples tonight, so odds of failure are significantly less than my optimism.”

“Operation Irminsul, log date number 45.” Loremaster spoke, her soft words half haunted and half excitement. “The test has come back positive. It seems one of the various samples that night took root. I have maintained regular communication with Zach to ensure the availability of more extraction attempts but have yet to inform him of this. I find myself unsure of how to broach this topic and conflicted feelings battle within me. For the first time in millenia, I am left speechless, with no idea what the correct course is to take.”

Excised note: “I’m scared he’ll hate me.”

“Operation Irmin…” Loremaster trailed before shaking her head. “Operation Genesis, log date number 1. Possibly of 1, as Zach has made it quite clear that he is more than willing to listen. I told him and I didn’t know that mortals were capable of such displays of honest joy. No lust, no pride, not a single sin even blipped when I told him that I was with his child. Sure, panic set in after a minute, but he just needed some factual reassurance. I have seen nothing from him to suggest he would be a poor father, even for Nephilim. THAT slip of the tongue led to a much, much longer discussion. He wasn’t happy, but he also didn’t turn me away. To quote ‘We’ll work this out. That’s what couples do, right?’”

“Hey Lore, you ready?” Zach’s voice was caught on the edges of the microphone’s range. “Azazel’s ready for our trip Upstairs.”

“Coming!” The pregnant scientist replied. “Signing off. If I don’t record again, it is either because Heaven has seen fit to obliterate me for my dalliance, as they have in the past, or it is because I am too busy being a mother. I pray for the latter.”

SUBJECT 67

“How do you even function?” Zach asked incredulously.

“Aggressively.” The beast's voice was deep enough to shake the mortal’s bones in their foundations. That was kinda hot.

“Damn. What do you even do around here?”

“Try to avoid-.” 67 was cut off by the keening whine of speakers activating.

“Wait, that smells like research material!” A giant screen lit up along the opposite wall to reveal the mad grin of the Loremaster, fallen Azazel. “Let me turn on the recording equipment!”

“Run, mortal!” Subject 67 advised with urgency. “Lest you wish to be recorded while copulating.”

“Well, maybe-” Zach started before being grabbed by the waist and carried off with the Frankenstein-esque stud.

“I know where the maid makes the pies.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Zach knew that it was going to be absolute hell to work off the calories of Justice's pies. With company like this, totally worth it.

HELLTAKER

“You know Dad, when you invited me to go fishing, I kinda expected more explosives.” Zach said, his back to his father who was across the deck of the boat they rented for the day.

“What makes you say that?” The Helltaker called over his shoulder.

“A childhood of experience.” His boy grimaced briefly.

“Alright, I suppose I deserved that.” The big man chuckled with a hint of sadness.

“Dad, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no.” He cut his son off, setting his reel aside for a moment. Taker leaned against the railing for support. “I get it. There’s plenty I did wrong, raising you. Some of it was because I didn’t know any better. Some of it was because I thought I knew better. And a bit of it was me guessing what your mom would do.”

Zach had almost spoken up before that last point. Now he was more than willing to just wait and see where his old man was going with this.

“And worst of all, my boy got hurt because of me.” A single tear escaped past Soloman’s shades. “That’ll haunt me to the grave, if that does anything for you.”

“It doesn’t.” Zach guaranteed. He wasn’t sure when he’d turned to face his father or he him, but there they were. “I never blamed you.”

“I know. Gods, do I know.” Soloman took off his shades and rubbed his with pointer finger and thumb. “Somehow, some way, despite all my fucks ups, mistakes, and almost getting you killed, somehow my good kid became a good man. If there has ever been a prouder man alive, I’m gonna find him and kick his ass.”

“Well, your wife is the Prince(ess) of Pride, so she could probably find him for you.” Zach smiled as he let a couple tears flow free.

Solomon laughed with his whole body at that, stepping out to bear hug his son, who met him in the middle. They stayed like that for a while, hugging it out and accepting each other. And who knows how long they would have stayed like that if not for a very rude interruption.

A Loch Ness Monster knockoff began to rise out of the water, growling like a crocodile at the humans who dared to intrude on its territory. The Helltaker didn’t look impressed as he reached under a canvas and revealed the one piece of equipment that he’d managed to hide from his son.

“Is that an M-32 Rotary Grenade Launcher?” Zach asked deadpan.

“Depends.” There was a thump and an explosion not twenty feet away that managed to do little more than sweep their hair and rock their boat. “Does that look like a dead Sharlie?”

“First sighting since 1997 and I guess the last one ever, now.” Zach shook his head as he waited for the usual followup to one of his fishing trips with his father.

“Never a dull moment with you, Zach.” The Helltaker winked at his son as he prepared to drive the boat as fast as it could manage to the other shore. He could already hear sirens and he wasn’t technically allowed in Idaho at the moment.

“You too, Dad.” Zach turned away to make sure his dad couldn’t see his grin as they steamed water for lack of any rubber to burn.

GENERIC

“So,” Zach asked his latest guest. “What’s your gimmick?”

“What do you mean?” Generic looked confusedly across the couch at the stepson of her boss/maker.

“Well, Pandemonica is the Tired Demon until you get some coffee in her, Cerberus is the Triplet Demon, Justice is the best…”

“What was that last one?”

“The Awesome Demon, Awesome Demon, yes.” Zach managed before pivoting back to his point. “So, what’s your gimmick?”

“Well, Her Majesty made me herself, so maybe that?” Generic shrugged, this line of questioning never coming up before.

“I thought demons usually popped out of the ground in Hell?”

“Well, they do these days.” Genny admitted. “But after the Fall, Lucifer grew paranoid and unsure who was friend and who foe. So, she made a friend, with the last sparks of her divine powers and her newly acquired infernal magics.”

“And then she made you her maid?” Zach sounded unimpressed, although Generic was sure that it wasn’t directed at her.

“You mean the sole individual with access to the entire Palatium Pandemonium besides the Queen herself?” Generic countered.

“That’s… actually a good point, huh.” Zach didn’t want to give Lucifer credit for much of anything, it didn’t feel natural at this point in their relationship.

“Also, I must thank your father when I meet him, having Cerberus out of the palace has made my life so much easier.” The Maid Demon wore a tired smile weighed down by centuries of cleaning up after the Hellhound.

“I’d bet. Pretty sure the stress alone from knowing those three are around has taken years off my life.” Zach sympathized and groused with her. “One time, they threw their bed through a wall and into the yard just to see if they could.”

“Dreadfully in character, I’m afraid.” The old maid nodded sagely. “Why, this one time…”

“I knew they’d get along.” Lucifer hummed, turning back into the hall to avoid being spotted. “They’re both hardworking busybodies who need someone else to bitch at.”

“Someone other than you?” Justice grinned before catching a hand across her cheek.

“Oh please, I don’t concern myself with the worries of the help.” The Queen of Hell scoffed. Justice could think of at least a hundred examples with Generic and a dozen regarding Zach, but knew better than to voice that at the moment.

“Riiiight.” The Awesome Demon drawled. “You just thought it’d be cute to hitch your daughter with your stepson.”

Justice laughed full bodily as Lucifer turned red and began to sputter like a broken engine. She could practically see the sparks popping out of the Devil’s ears as she tried to wrap her head around what the blind demon had just said to her. Eventually she gave up and settled on trying to enact violence, which Justice had expected and was already moving to avoid.

“What was the crashing sound?” Generic asked, lifting her head off of Zach’s shoulder.

“It sounds a whole lot like a problem for later.” He replied, untangling his hand from hers to run it tiredly through his hair.

“I know where Lucifer hides the good liquor?”

“After you, my fair lady.”

An Author’s Allowed to Indulge Himself, Dang it.

If Zach were to be honest with himself, he was fully prepared to regret today dearly. He was well familiar with the nerdier aspects of his girlfriend and even enjoyed most of them, though not as passionately as she did. And sure, a bit of dress up did make his mind wander to more carnal activities.

But he really wasn’t sure about how he felt cosplaying at an anime convention.

“Zach, look, they have a Berserk-Gundam crossover at that booth!” Judgement had him by the arm and was aggressively pointing at the aforementioned booth. He did indeed recognize the Berserker’s Armor in a more rigid design that was reminiscent of the most popular mecha anime. It even looked to be of decent quality from here. “We NEED to check it out!”

“Well, lead the way Dizzy.” He wasn’t able to keep himself from smiling at her enthusiasm.

“Come on Ky!” She practically dragged him across the event floor toward her prize.

As much as she pained over accuracy while making their costumes, Judy hadn’t skimped on the durability either. In fact, if he recognized that feeling like he thought he did, then Zach was pretty sure that whatever he was wearing was made of the same hell-stuff that he wore for her birthday.

While Judgement was enamored with the display, Zach’s eyes wandered the convention hall. A lot of people had shown up in costume, but he hadn’t really seen anyone else doing Guilty Gear cosplay besides himself and his paramor. He glanced over at what she was in awe of and smirked at her joy.

“Hey.” An unfamiliar voice called. Zach looked over and learned he had apparently missed the one other person in the building with a Guilty Gear getup, light glinting off his sunglasses. “Nice costume, Kiske.”

“You too, Johnny.” He chuckled as he looked the guy over. Long black coat, wide brimmed hat of the same color, matching jeans, the massive belt, and not a shirt to be seen. He even had the sword and the musculature to match, though his flesh was marred by what looked like some kind of severe mauling. The only thing off with his cosplay was his moon-white hair.

“What, like whatcha see?” The stranger’s smirk was wolfish and Zach stammered a little.

“How do you do it?”

“The hair or the raw swagger?” His smirk became fanged and he barked a quick laugh. “Sorry man, both are all natural.”

“No, uh, the…”

“Shirtless with a chest like this?” The smirk softened and ‘Johnny’ went on. “Cause it proves I’m something of a bad motherfucker and a survivor. Ain’t got much to be proud of, but I keep a grip on that.”

“Huh.” Zach recalled Zdrada had said something similar during the beach day.

“Keep that in mind, yeah?” ‘Johnny’ was suddenly up in his face, a hand’s width between them. “I get the feeling it’d help you too.”

“How could you tell?”

“1. Not an ounce of disgust in your eye when you asked.” The smirk returned with a vengeance. “And B. Ky doesn’t wear his shirt that buttoned up.”

With the pommel of his sword, he popped Zach’s uppermost shirt button to reveal the collar bone area of his chest and the scarring that came with that patch of skin. Zach’s eyes widened in shock for a moment and before he had time to react there was suddenly a Gargoyle before him.

“We got a problem here, ‘Johnny?’” Judgement practically spat out the name.

“I don’t think we do.” The stranger smiled, tipped his hat, and started walking away with a song. “Bring me a bottle or two, me lad. Bring me a bottle or four…~”

“Zach, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention, are you alright?” She began to fret over her boyfriend, about to fix his shirt when he stopped her. “Zach?”

“You know what, Judy?” Zach kissed Judgement hard for a moment before pulling back with a wolfish smirk. “Leave it. Gotta do the costume justice, right?”

“I-if you say so.” Judgement turned, but not fast enough to hide her blush. She made extra sure to reward her lover’s bravery for the rest of the day and to avoid any cosplayers with moonlight hair.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub startled awake, as she realized she had been dreaming. It had been some time since she had last been able to depart the waking nightmare of the Abyss to the dreaming inferno of her admittedly addled mind. While such excursions were usually a welcome respite, so many scenes of her Zacharias with other lovers filled her with a seething, buzzing, boiling rage. Even if some had been admittedly cute.

Despite herself, the Queen in Crimson made notes of the best parts of all her dreams and wrote them into her flesh with her nails. Once she had her Prince Charming and was free of this abominable prison, they would have all the time in the world to indulge in the cutest, most domestic, and life-threateningly carnal situations imaginable, so it wouldn’t do to have a good idea and forget it.

Zach felt a chill slither up his spine and accidentally broke his pencil in half. He swore and went to retrieve another one, failing to notice a fat, crimson fly watching him the entire time.

Chapter Text

PANDEMONICA

Eddie never really saw himself as the type to be dommed. In a number of his previous relationships, he wondered what the appeal was in being submissive, to give up control, and rest your well being in someone else’s hands. Even someone as trusted as a lover, that was a level of faith he couldn’t imagine himself giving to anyone.

It was a feeling he discovered with Pandemonica. It wasn’t as though she purred ‘Good boy’ and he melted in her hands. She hadn’t beaten him into a shape that she could more easily ply for her own wants. What she had done to melt his walls was far more surprising and all the more effective because of it.

“Gods below, you know how to take a beating.” His mistress moaned as she licked blood from her crop. “I can count on one hand the demons who could compete with you as a whipping post and not a one of them would still look this pretty by now.”

He would have replied, but the bridle in his mouth was quite secure. She snatched his chin and maneuvered his head, looking for something that he couldn’t fathom in his pain and pleasure addled state. Satisfied with her search, she threw his head back and began to pace around where he was tied up, sliding her riding crop along his limbs as she went.

“So dogged, always wanting more…” Pandemonica mused, tapping her chin with a claw of a nail. Something occurred to her then and she grinned wickedly. “No, not dogged, is it, pet? Something a bit older, more primal?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow quizzically, which was about as much movement as he could manage in his current state. In retort his Mistress grabbed a fistful of hair and wrenched his head up to force him look in her eyes.

“My little wolf, aren’t you?” She snickered as he went stiff. “Won’t you howl for me?”

She realized her poor word choice just before the first tear finished rolling down his cheek to hit the mattress. Pan had managed to free his arms before a dozen had stained the bed and his legs were out not long after. Eddie curled into a fetal position and hadn’t even bothered taking the bit from his teeth, maybe hoping it would muffle his sobbing breaths. Pan wrapped herself around his as best she could manage, whispering sincere apologies with each sniffle from her lover.

He tried to speak, but the effort was made almost humorous by the wood still strapped into his mouth. Gently, she expertly undid the knot keeping it in place and carefully pried it from between his teeth. The Sadist wasn’t terribly surprised to find he had bit about an inch deep into the oak toy, ruining it but that was of little concern.

“I-I’m sorry M-Mi-Mist-Pan,” Eddie stuttered like she had never heard before. “S-so-sssorry about ruining the scene. Can I a-atleast have a minute before you break something?”

“Hush, dear.” She reassured, petting down his hair. “You did marvelously, fantastically, better than anyone could ask. There’s yet to be a soul stronger than yours and there won’t be its equal ever.”

“I bet the big guy-”

“Would crumble like a crepe in a breeze as soon as I broke out a knife.” She kissed his neck and rubbed circles into his back. “I’m beyond sorry to have broken the one thing I never wanted: your heart.”

“It’s fine, I-I’ll live.” Eddie stiffened up as he tried to put his confident face back on.

“I know you will.” Pan sighed into his hair. “Would you let me help you thrive?”

A minute of silence passed and the demon seriously wondered if she’d finally manage to damage their relationship. Then he snuggled back into her some more and relaxed a touch.

“Yeah, I think I can do that.” Eddie had only ever sounded so small twice before in his life.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Maybe in a bit, once you're out of the leather.” He chuckled softly. “It ain’t exactly cozy.

She smiled into his silver hair and laughed.

“Of course love. Of course.”

It takes a truly strong man to let himself be weak and Pandemonica was falling in love with Eddie’s strength with each passing day.

MODEUS

“Okay, seriously, remind me why I agreed to this?” Eddie asked from his own bushes.

“Because you only know what they’re like when you’re around.” Modeus plainly explained, a pair of sticks taped around her head to help disguise her. “You have to know how they act without you if you truly want this romance to burn as hot as possible.”

“So the only way I can truly love them is through stalking?” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

“See, I knew you were smart.” The Lustful Demon put her binoculars back up to her eyes, ignoring or not registering his derisive tone. “Look, here comes the Prosecutor now.”

“Yup, she just finished her morning workout.” Eddie leaned back into the shrubbery, losing his view of his kitchen. “Now she’s going to grab a water bottle, some carrots, and sneak a finger in the peanut butter to satiate her sweet tooth.”

Modeus watched in awe as that was exactly what happened. She looked at Eddie then back into his home, thighs rubbing together. Moments later Beelzebub floated past a window heading towards the stairs.

“I wonder what lurid acts the Crimson Queen is getting up to?”

“She’s going to ask Pan if she needs any help, who will politely tell her that she’ll be more burden than boon, then Beel will snap her fingers and Pan’s room will be completely clean.” Eddie recited like a memorized script. Lo and behold, that was precisely the order of events. “Then Pan will thank her, give her a peck on the cheek, and head downstairs for an apple. And now Beelzebub will take Cerberus for her morning walk/squirrel pogrom.”

“It seems you know your harem rather well Eddie.” Modeus huffed, face still expressionless but her spinning hearts gave her away. “How… thoughtful…”

“And, given that it’s Tuesday,” The Other Taker went on, ever one to show off. “Azazel will be talking to Zdrada about punk culture. I believe today’s talk was about the connection between drug abuse and spikier mohawks.”

Modeus adjusted the zoom on her binoculars and focused on where the aforementioned pair were. Sure enough, she read their lips and clearly made out words like ‘pipe,’ ‘crack,’ and ‘hairdo.’

“I didn’t realize you were so thorough Eddie.” The binoculars were lowered slowly as twin hearts rested on the nearest male.

“Yeah, I… try…” He turned to meet her gaze and realized his mistake immediately.

“That’s quite caring of you.” She started crawling towards him and he away from her. “Very nurturing.”

“Uh, ah, yeah, that’s me, Mr. Caring.” Eddie chuckled as he looked for an escape route.

“How…” A gout of steam left Modues’ mouth as she moaned. “R O M A N T I C.”

“JUDGEMENT!” Eddie screamed as he was pounced by a deranged demon of lust. It was a good thing Azazel was nearby, otherwise he might not have ever walked again, even if the holy magic grated against his sinner soul.

CERBERUS

The Dread Hound stalked through her territory, hot on the trail of her favored prey. Two heads had fanned out earlier to lull the foe into a false sense of security, participating in menial drudgery like the some tamed dog. The third had the scent and a score to settle. The greatest and near eldest beast of the pit refused to be mastered by anything but her betters and if a mortal thought himself that then he would spend every moment till the end proving it.

She stalked among the lesser beasts to better hide herself, creatures with dull claws and flat teeth. Well, except for the Gargoyle, her claws were fierce. And the Fly, actually, she had rather vicious teeth, upon review. And the Sadist was kinda mean too…

Focus! Predator, monster, spawn of Typhon and living gates of Hades. Fuck Lucifer, she’ll call it Hell in her own head when Kronos returns in a sundress! FOCUS!

…

Shit, where did he go?

“Looking for someone, Cerby?” Eddie cooed from behind her. Cerberus whipped around, nearly catching him with her hair, he was so close. He booped her snoot and chuckled. “Tag, you’re it.”

“Trickery!” She cried.

“Deception!” She bellowed, startling Beel mid-pancake flip and earning an aggravated buzzing for it.

“Chicanery!” She roared, spooking Azazel who was in the middle of giving her head pats. “Not you, don’t stop.”

“Maybe you’re losing your touch in your old age?” Her Taker snarked, wearing that grin she loved to wipe off his face.

Cerberus’ eye twitched once, twice, thrice. There was a flash of blood colored flame and suddenly one was three was one again. Taller than three men stacked atop each other, three heads that were only described as canines because nothing else could snarl quite like that. Paws like tree trunks and claws that dug furrows easily into the dirt with hardly any movement. From the left head flame began to boil out, the smoke trailing from her nostrils doing nothing to hide the burning look in her eyes. From the right sparks danced between the hairs of her pelt, flowing faster and faster as her temper spiked. The central head grew deathly still as a pale, blue glow worked its way up her throat and caused steam to raise past her fangs as the air began to freeze.

”Run.” She said and the world around them quivered.

Instead of listening to his instincts, reason, and the screaming onlookers sitting in front of Heavenly monitors, Eddie instead ripped his shirt off and grinned at his puppy.

“Make me.”

Cerberus loved it most when he didn’t listen.

MALINA

“I thought you liked strategy games?” Eddie spoke with a smirk and Malina very much wanted to wipe it with that massive rule book.

“Yeah, fucking video games.” She growled, vodka bottle in one hand and dice in the other. “Not whatever nerd shit this is!”

“We were playing Dawn of War not even a week ago, why is this such a stretch?” He rolled a set of dice absently in his palm, leaning against the basement wall.

“Because that’s a masterpiece,” Malina bemoaned. “The soundtrack and sound effects, the crisp controls, the cheesy voice lines, and I dig older graphics.”

“The soundtrack is playing on the speakers,” True, “If the controls are bad then you need to see a doctor,” Fair but fuck him anyways, “And I can start shouting corny shit if that’d help.”

“The only thing that could possibly help is if you’d eat shit and die, right here and now.” She swigged her bottle and was disappointed to find it half way empty. That left her with ten minutes of drink left if she paced herself, which the Sour Demon was not planning on.

“Is it because you’re rolling poorly?”

“Rolling your loaded dice poorly? Yeah, that would be it.”

“We have switched dice five separate times now.”

“And yours always roll fire and mine roll fiery shit!”

“How is it my fault the Dark Gods bless me and condemn you? That’s a wargame for ya.” He shrugged and analyzed the board again. “Besides, Custodes isn’t exactly a simple army to start with.”

“Bullshit, they have the least models and each one’s a badass!” Malina wanted to agree with herself but she couldn’t make a save to save her life and all of her attacks had the consistency of a little drizzle.

“Exactly, each one is worth more and each loss costs more.” Eddie nodded sagely and that just raised her hackles all the higher. “You have to spend their lives miserly, not with abandon.”

“Don’t you quote Jimmy Space at me, daemon fucker.” Malina gestured to the army of Chaos rallied before her. “A Word Bearer fuck doesn’t get to use the Emperor’s words, especially not to the banana boys who served with Him.”

“Hey, don’t diss my boys.” Eddie feigned mortification. “We won the Heresy, the last ten thousand years of war have just been gravy. Now then, Corpse Worshipper, are you ready to fail and for this planet to burn in the name of the 8-Fold Path?”

“Dream on, heretic!” Malina screamed as she chucked her dice in the dice tray. She screamed even louder as snake eyes stared back at her. “I fuckin hate 40k!”

“Wanna play Age of Sigmar next week?” He asked. Her first answer was chugging the rest of the bottle.

“Yeah, sure.” Malina agreed, concocting her army list already even as Eddie’s Possessed ripped her Shield Captain limb from golden limb.

ZDRADA

As Helltaker Alpha made his way through his home, having just finished Pandemonica’s second dose of caffeine for the day, his nose caught a scent most hated. A scowl leaked over his features and he followed the smell of burning tobacco to the offender. He turned the corner silently only to stop in surprise as the Punk Demon closed the window of the living room, threw away the butt of her finished cigarette, and pulled out a novel from Eddie’s personal collection. She opened it in the middle and removed a bookmark to keep reading. Also, maybe most surprising of all, was the cute accessory over her eyes.

“I didn’t know you owned glasses.” Eddie admitted as he watched Zdrada read, one she slammed shut as soon as she was caught.

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t find my fuckin contacts, sue me.” She turned a bit red in the cheeks and turned away from her Taker.

“I didn’t know you needed corrective lenses.”

“You never asked, ever think of that?” She rebutted, looking adorable with her spectacles on.

“While that is true, it’s not exactly the world’s most common opening line.” He shot finger guns at her and wore an overly cocky smile. “Hey babe, how’re your eyes, cuz I wanna make sure you get a good look at your future hubby.”

“Pfffft.” Zdrada broke in the face of his terrible impression, cackling in delight. “You’re a fuckin idiot, man!”

“Ah, but who’s the greater fool, the fool or the one who thinks he’s funny?” He smirked as he sat next to her.

“Still you, dumbass.” She leaned into him and fought down her giggles. “So, uh, what do you think of the glasses?”

“I think they look cute.”

“You would, perv-ass.” The Bitch Demon grumbled and she snuggled into her Taker.

“You know it, Z.” Eddie tussled her hair and grabbed the remote to watch some TV.

“What nerd shit you gonna watch now? I need to know if I gotta make a run for it.”

“Nah bitch, we snuggling now. No way out of it.”

“Oh nooooo.” Zdrada playfully fought against his grip and he made it clear that she was truly stuck with him, watching whatever silly thing caught his fancy. The absolute horror and domesticity of it all.

AZAZEL

Azazel wondered, which was her usual state of being, if her instructors had some inkling as to how she would turn out when they set her curriculum before her. Afterall, Angels can fly, so what use would the average soldier of God have for climbing exercises? She would have certainly preferred to fly everywhere, but massive wings made of glowing light aren’t exactly subtle and if her subjects knew they were going to be observed, it would taint this batch of observation.

The Curious Angel thanked the foresight of her teachers for making her train her grip strength because now it was child’s play to climb into the tree that overlooked the window of Helltaker Alpha’s bedroom. While she had no such luck with Helltaker Number One’s sleeping quarters, Azazel had sent a request to the Brass for more powerful optical equipment so she could use a roof two blocks over for the optimal angle. Now then, enough giving thanks, time for research!

As expected, Eddie had spent the night with Judgement last night, keeping to his schedule like clockwork. She could appreciate such diligence, even if it was in the name of premarital dalliance. Another thing she found easy to appreciate was the mortal’s physical form. Not even considering how well honed it was, he was a walking tapestry dedicated to the survivability of the human body. In a way, he was kind of like a living example of God’s efforts to give humanity the ideal body for surviving His World.

Azazel noticed she was breathing heavily and found that odd, given how accustomed to this climb she had gotten. She mentally recited a hymn and forced her breathing to match the pace until it had evened out. With that anomaly dealt with, she returned to her observations.

Judgement had awoken now that her lover was up and moving. She slinked out of the bed, nude as the day she was born. Azazel noted with interest the incredible scarring on her back. It reminded her of Angels who had been struck down by hellfire back in the Wars, their wings burnt off by infernal weapons. How a demon could have such scars was a fascinating topic that she simply had to broach when the opportunity presented itself. The pair began to grow intimate again and Azazel eagerly studied the interaction, documenting every detail that she could. The Voyeur blinked and suddenly the scene had shifted. Judgement was gone and in her place was a slighter woman with fair skin and raven locks. Why, if not for the context of the scene, Azazel would mistake them for an Angel.

As Eddie’s calloused fingers traced down the mystery woman’s back, Azazel felt the faintest touch ghost down her spine, so enamored by this latest development that she didn’t even flinch. As the mortal’s lips clasped around the stranger’s neck, there was the sensation of teeth barely touching gentle skin. He glanced at his latest conquest like he was asking permission and Azazel nodded eagerly at the same time as the mystery woman. Eddie grinned like a beast and bit deep into Azazel’s neck, eliciting a moan of delight from the Angel girl.

Azael woke up a couple seconds later and was surprised to find herself laying face up toward the sky. Grass tickled her ears and she could feel that the back of her head was going to be sore shortly. Strangest of all, there was a peculiar dampness to her nether regions and she prayed that she hadn’t embarrassed herself when she apparently fell out of her hiding spot.

“Azazel, are you alright?” It seemed as though Eddie had noticed her accident and came out to check on her. He hadn’t taken the time to dress and was instead in a fluffy bathrobe, leaving precious little to the Curious Angel’s rapidly spirally imagination. “That was a pretty bad fall to break with your head.”

“I’m fine, Eddie.” She reassured, sitting up and waiting a moment for the world to stop spinning. “It would appear I misjudged my grip for a moment.”

“Right…” Eddie decided not to comment on her flushed appearance, how she had nearly sweated her uniform see-through, or the familiar, carnal scent in the air around the literally fallen Angel. “Why don’t you come inside and have a sit down? We’ll get you some water.”

“That would be lovely, thank you Taker.” She sighed and accepted his hand in helping her stand.

JUSTICE

“You know, looking at you, I bet a lotta people don’t take you for a baker, Eddie.” Justice bumped hips with him as he pushed the shopping cart.

“I could say the same for you, Lady Justice.” He smirked as they made their way to the baking aisle.

“Please, they haven’t called me that in years.” She waved a hand dismissively.

“Wait, that was actually you?”

“Well duh, where else would you silly mortals get the idea.” The Awesome demon locked her fingers and rested them on the back of her head as she strutted. “You lot aren’t as original as you like to think.”

“Fair enough, but still. That kinda makes you a little god, doesn’t it?” Eddie lost himself a little in thought at the implications.

“Watch your mouth, bucko, ain’t nothing little about these guns!” Justice flexed and Eddie had to admit she was pretty built. Though, to his appraising eye, it was the kind of muscle mass that only came from a floundering dedication to exercise after years of effort.

“Alright, alright, enough with the gun show before you put someone’s eye out.” He humored her.

“I actually did that once.”

“Whu-how?” She had his full attention now.

“After a big fight, I was all greased up and sweaty, right?” Pretty easy to imagine, yeah. “So, as I’m coming back into town, dragging the severed head of a dragon-”

“As one does.”

“Exactly, anyways, I see that I’ve got some spectators enjoying the show. I think, ‘Hey, they’re cute, maybe I’ll take one home if Luci’s busy.’ So boom, I flex the guns at em. Light bounces off my killer arms and it becomes so bright it takes out one of their eyes.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah. Think her name was Balor or something.” Justice shrugged as they perused the ingredients for apple pies and brownies. “Was pretty sweet before that and had this awesome red hair. She moved to Wrath after that, which isn’t exactly a shocker.”

“Kind of a sick story though.”

“Right?” She beamed.

“You know, there was this one time I wrestled a werewolf for a chick.” Eddie grinned as he recalled.

“No shit?”

“Yeah, one of the dumbest fuckin things I ever did to get my dick wet.”

“Definitely not the dumbest.” Justice elbowed Eddie playfully in the ribs, to which he laughed.

“Yeah, no, but it makes the top five.”

They spent the rest of the day swapping stories until they both had enough confectionaries to placate two houses twice over. Between Cerberus, Lucifer, and Beelzebub, it just might be enough.

LUCIFER

“You have poor taste, Edward.” Lucifer sneered.

“Still not my name.” He replied coolly. “And I can confirm that they all taste fantastic.”

“Degenerate.”

“I’d say prude, but there are nights where I can hear what Taker does to you, so I don’t think that’d be accurate.”

The Devil turned red and began to stammer, stamping her heels into the carpet. She glared at him over the bucket between them and gripped the couch hard enough to dig in her nails. Just as obscenities began to appear within her jumbled words, the Spare grabbed the wine bottle and refilled her glass. Begrudgingly, she accepted the peace offering and sipped.

Damn that Spare, he had good taste. In wine and only wine, of course.

“Did you hear what the neighbors were doing this weekend?” Eddie asked over his glass.

“The Robinsons, to the north?” Of course it was them, who else would stir the local pot this early in the week?

“Of course. Apparently they aren’t inviting Corin to their barbeque.” He smirked at the gossip, well aware of his audience’s coming reaction.

“You’re shitting me!” Luci sounded exasperated. “After he watched their house and kept their lawn so pristine? Those bitches.”

“I’m glad they’re getting along.” The Helltaker whispered as he leaned next to the doorframe.

“I honestly cannot believe it.” Judgement replied just as quietly. “Who knew they were both gossips?”

“Well, they are both kinda catty.” The big man chuckled.

“Pardon me,” Lucifer was suddenly among them, empty bottle and ice bucket in hand. “Be a dear and make yourself useful, would you?”

“Yes ma’am!” Taker saluted, grabbed his charges, and ran off to the wine cellar Lucifer had magiced up. Eddie brought the first bottle so it was only good manners to provide the second from her own stock, nothing but standard procedure, truly.

“Judgement.” The First Fallen said, a bit less venom than usual in her tone.

“Snake.” The High Prosecutor stated plainly, more title than insult today.

“Well, while we wait on Taker, tell me more of Martha Robinson’s latest bout of madness.” Lucifer stepped back into the sitting room for more of Eddie’s delicious rumor mongering.

Judy wasn’t even sure when he had the time to hear all of this, he wasn’t exactly the most social creature. Ah well, at least he was making friends.

JUDGEMENT

Judgement, High Prosecutor of Hell, was a creature without fear. She was an Angel once, a direct servant of God Herself and had answered Her call to Fall and fulfill her destiny. Now she stood atop the Pit, Master of the Sin Machine as final Judge of the Damned, wielding the divine chains that kept Lucifer in her place. And she knew, deep in her heart, that one day she would fail, that the Devil would bring The End to this world of God’s and that Michael would slay her fallen sister. With all that in mind, where could fear possibly worm its way into her stone heart?

Well, apparently at the thought of angering her mortal lover. A sinner, unrepentant at that, whose life would exist as a flash in the span of her own and whose soul would undoubtedly be used to fuel her Machine. In the Ineffable Plan, the Grand Scheme of All Things, he was barely more than literal nothing and Judgement was well aware of that fact.

Or, at least, she tried to believe that. It had been several days since Christmas and Eddie had hardly spoken to her! He must be furious for being tricked into spending time with the Snake, Judy should have known better than to listen to Justice’s hairbrained scheme, she was better than this! And yet, for as ‘better’ as she’d like to be, the thought of her Taker being angry with her did not rest well in her core, in fact it didn’t rest at all; The feeling squirmed and quivered within her, causing great emotional discomfort.

Judgement would not stand for such inane things as emotional vulnerability and sought out how best to fortify herself against such weakness. She tried working out and while it got the blood flowing and the sweating pouring, all it did in the end was make her tired and sad. Alright, plan B it is.

Wait, what was plan B, she’d never done a plan B before. If physical action failed her, what was the High Prosecutor to do? Surely there was something Judgement, Daughter of Heaven and Gaoler of Hell could actually do to clear this aggravation from her very soul?

Hold a moment, soul…

Eddie had an odd soul, didn’t he? And it sounded traumatic, from what little information he had let leak around his harem. Judgement was something of an expert in the matters of mortal essences, perhaps there was something there that could be of aid in her endeavor?

The plan was easy, if not simple and would cost her a minor fortune in pact-backed favors, but any cost to relieve this clammy feeling in her chest would be worth it. First was making herself appear unavailable, all that part required was a shout to the house that her Machine required her attention. Eddie shouted something vaguely affirming and the rest of the house took their cues. Pandemonica continued her work, lest someone else be shackled to a desk with chains of paper and ink while Zdrada dug up her cache of kerosene.

Meanwhile, Beelzebub pretended to lose her grip on reality and began to phase in and out of ephemerality. Eddie rushed to her aid, exactly as planned. At the same time, Cerberus enacted a ritual that would cause a one mile radius of mild misfortune centered on the house, which caused a traffic jam outside and made Eddie stub his toe. While he was distracted by mild pain and the sudden eruption of dozens of car horns, Zdrada began an amateur pyrotechnics display in the backyard. This would leave the Taker of the house disoriented as he tried to figure out what problem to address first.

At the same time, Judgement would be at the other Taker house to get the key to Eddie’s study from Azazel. This is a nonissue as the Angel is readily compliant to one as glorious of purpose as the High Prosecutor. If she also shook her breasts more than necessary at the Curious Angel, then that was simply a result of her haste and nothing more.

Once within the lair of the sinner, she would-

“There are better ways to get my attention, you know that, right?” Eddie asked as he turned his office chair slowly, like an action movie villain.

“Wha- how did…?” Judgement articulated with divine grace.

“Beel managed about a minute of her trick without laughing,” He listed off on raised fingers. “I can smell Cerberus’ magic a mile off at this point, and Zdrada launched herself into orbit while miraculously missing anything important.”

There was a split second of screaming followed by a colossal collision sound in the backyard. After a moment there was an earth shattering moan in a familiar, bitchy voice and then what was clearly someone falling unconscious headfirst in the dirt.

“Nearly into orbit.” Eddie deadpanned. “And everything just so happened to kick off right after you left, after nearly a week now of avoiding me.”

“I avoid nothing! I am confrontation incarnate!” Judgement defended, though it sounded weak in her own ears.

“Judy, doll, lover baby.” Eddie tutted as he stood and walked up to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. “What’s eating at you and why hasn’t it been me?”

“It has been you, in a sense.” She looked away as cold shame climbed her cheeks. He raised an eyebrow for her to continue and she couldn’t help it. “You must be furious, having been forced to spend a minute with that Snake, I can’t even stand a moment!”

“I seem to recall you were both rather fond of fluffy animal videos-”

“That is a completely different circumstance, it’s not as though we actually interacted during those movies.” She grumbled.

“Be that as it may, it honestly wasn’t so bad.” Eddie shrugged. “Sure, I didn’t appreciate having it dumped on my head, but we actually had a kinda okay time talking. I think we worked, maybe not everything, but at least something out.”

“So, your rage doesn’t burn like the fiercest pits of Hell?” Judy risked a glance at her Taker.

“No more than usual, babe.” He pecked her cheek to emphasize his point.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Again, you’ve been avoiding me.” He sighed and gave her a squeeze. “You inhale your meals, upped your jogs to immortal standards that I can’t be bothered to meet these days, and you skipped out on our night together.”

“I, uh, ah, you see…” Judgement thought it over and came to the dreadful realization that he was right. She had spent so much energy trying to overcome the knot at her core that she hadn’t realized she’d been staying away from what she thought was the source. “Damn it.”

“I concur.” Eddie pulled her into what would be a bone crushing squeeze for a mortal, then relented into something softer and sweeter. “Come on, wanna make up for lost time?”

“I’d love to.” She returned the grip when a thought occurred to her. “Wait, do you actually think you could keep up when I’m really trying?”

“You don’t know what I got up to on my travels.” Eddie smiled mischievously and Judgement swore she smelt peaches and flowers on the air for a second.

“You’re on.” She grinned competitively, to which he matched fang for fang.

Somehow, Zdrada’s stunt was the second most property damage to happen on the block that day.

BEELZEBUB

The Queen Crimson woke with a sigh, her eyes slowly blinking as the bliss of dream left her. A drop of panic seeped into where her soul would be as she registered how dark the world around her was, sharing the slightest similarity with her millennia old prison. The feeling passes as the warm chest under her raised with the easy breath of the restful and slowly descended. An easy smile spread across her freckled face as she relaxed onto her lover’s body and enjoyed his aroma.

In those early days, she worried that it was just another bout of madness. It wouldn’t be the first time her magics ran amok and made illusions tantalizing enough that she wanted them to be real. Especially given that she had dreamed of those strange Takers not terribly long before a hole was ripped in the antimatter of the Abyss. Any would forgive the pessimist in Beelzebub’s heart who couldn’t believe that a literal man of her dreams had rescued her.

After their first argument, she tried to dispel him and this wonderful dream. The madness always turned back on her eventually, best to snuff it out before the good memories could rot on the vine. But then the dream refused to let her wake and forced her to realize she hadn’t been asleep or lost in her lonely insanity at all. And the Mistress of Pestilence had never been so overjoyed to be wrong in her existence.

“My hero.” Beel quietly buzzed as she pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scarred chest.

“My Queen.” He sleepily replied, leaning forward to peck the top of her hair.

She pressed into him all the tighter and buzzed contently. Truth be told, after leaving the Abyss, she didn’t actually sleep much these days, only when truly necessary. After all, there was no dream as sweet as the reality she was living in.

LOREMASTER

A pneumatic hiss penetrated the vast silence of the laboratory. Steam burst from a wall mounted pod as a glass hatch began to creep open, releasing whatever foul spawn had been built inside. The silence began to refill the room, as though the stagnant lack of sound was the world holding its breath in the hope that this abomination would prove another stillborn failure. Statistically, that would be the expectation but aren’t the exceptions so much more interesting?

A hand of red flesh clasped around the edge of its pod to steady the creature within. Loremaster watched on with bated breath, eager to see the fruition of her continued labor. She took a moment to reflect as a mirrored paw gripped the other side. After the unprecedented success of Subject 67 of batch 6, the Head Researcher of Hell had poured over the Subject and the notes on his creation with a religious fervor. Why had he succeeded where others failed? It could most certainly be replicated, but how? It took her some time, but eventually she found that special something and was able to repeat her success several times over.

Of course, 67 never allowed any of the others to survive, but they had been birthed more as proof of concept so the loss was negligible at worst. With the completion of Subject 67’s trials and the subsequent success and then rapid termination of his kin, that officially marked the end of Batch 6.

Loremaster took to Batch 7 with a truly wicked glee. Afterall, now that she had confirmed and mastered the process for creating such abominable life, the next logical route was to see how far she could push these beasts, how much she could tweak their genetic coding before they would break instead of bend. And, hey, bonus, thanks to the highly experimental nature of this portion of The Project, it meant that the previous 700+ dead subjects weren’t technically failures but instead confirmations of limitations! The unknowingly Fallen Azazel intended to cap this Batch off at an even 1,000 or when she ran out of ideas for variations, whichever came second.

She watched on in awe of her God-given scientific prowess as the sin-made-flesh finally stepped out of its pod. It was about as tall as 67 although with far less overt musculature attached to its skeleton. It was also longer of limb and thicker of tail while maintaining the stitched together look that Loremaster had come to favor in her experiments. A coat of ruddy fur covered its back and as it stepped into the chamber proper its instincts led it to taking on a slight hunch and when it stopped walking it crouched on its toes. If it wasn’t for the biomechanical apparatuses visible in its flesh and the spiral-horned skull it had in place of a face, one might almost mistake Subject Code LMSU772 for a-

“Dear Lord, did you make a monkey?” Lucifer the Maid Demon sounded exasperated as she rounded the corner into The Observatory.

“Not precisely, but I suppose it would look that way to the uneducated.” Azazel noted how her maid fumed at the comment and began running odds on when the next assassination attempt would be. Should be able to get that out of the way by noon if Luci’s actually as pissed as she looked.

The subject on screen flicked its tail from side to side, doing little to combat the simian slander it was unknowingly enduring. It, well he, He rested a hand knuckle-first on the ground as he took in his environment. Loremaster observed as much with her eyes as with her equipment and was quite pleased with the results. His hearts were functioning at a nominal rate, the servos in his joints reported no issues yet, and the bioelectric readings she was seeing from his brain activity showed a marked increase compared to prior members of batch 7. In fact, he seemed almost…

“Curious little ape, isn’t he?” Lucifer sneered as Subject 72 made his way back to his pod and began to prod at it. Loremaster was about to comment when the beast used a claw to pry open a panel, momentarily observed the wiring, and started to rearrange her carefully organized system.

With a start, Azazel began the process of activating the screen that connected to that particular lab in the hopes of speaking to her spawn, but there was a blue screen error informing her that the connection was physically undone. Before she could question if that was intentional, 72 looked toward the camera for the first time and the fallen angels would each swear that the creature managed to smile without lips. Without breaking eye contact, he plucked another pair of wires like guitar strings and the door to leave opened with a snap. 72 loped away, his shoulders shaking in a chuckle that panged at a familiar memory scrubbed nearly clean by time.

“I take it that’s a rather poor sign?” The maid inquired, leaning forward to judge her usurper's expression. What she found there disturbed her greatly.

“O-on the contrary, my traitorous little servant.” Loremaster was red in the face and breathing heavily as she raptly watched her latest experiment solve her painstakingly calculated puzzles by artfully breaking their mechanisms without ever engaging in the actual test. “This is-is-is, so far, a momentous occasion. Batch Number 7 has officially created a success.”

Lucifer observed her, hopefully temporary, master’s burgeoning lust toward this latest butcher shop reject with well warranted disgust. God willing, this would be another pile of ash before the end of the shift, though more likely by its own belligerent deconstruction of Loremaster’s machines than actually failing a puzzle.

As Lucifer started to step away to see to her unfairly long list of chores and assassination plans, she spared one more glance to the monitors. She watched the creature make his way from one room to the next and something in the way he scanned the room, the air about him as his mind clicked away at his own unique solution, something about all of it called the deposed Queen back to more halcyon days.

Days spent on the mortal coil, a pair of houses causing mayhem for the other suburban residents. A pair of madmen dreamers with more determination than sense and even more skill to back it up. Her’s she recalled quite well, mountain that he was.

Occasionally, Lucifer wondered if Loremaster had designed 67 in such a way as to taunt her for what she had lost but abandoned such notions when it became clear that the Curious previously Angel repressed the early years of her fall quite efficiently. Now she found herself wondering all over again, as the spiritual descendant of Helltaker Alpha ran helter skelter through the testing grounds of Hell.

SUBJECT 67

Subject 67 observed his ‘brother’ as he stomped through the lab. That Bitch had given him partial access to Hell’s stalker network to allow him to educate himself through observation, so he busied himself at the moment by educating himself how best to slay his latest sibling. Even the thought of the word tasted like bile on his tongue, as did all the crazy Bitch’s ideas of creation.

Well, nearly all, he had grown rather fond of the tentacle cat.

This latest one, this Subject 72, 67 could not imagine growing fond of. In this latest sin against life he could already see his least favorite traits taking center stage; Arrogance and Cunning.

He had reviewed the footage of this thing’s birth and subsequent trials, how 72 dismantled the puzzles instead of actually enduring them. It made 67’s blood boil more than usual, phantom pains earned from close calls flaring up at the thought of not actually needing to risk life and limb. And the ape did it with such confident glee as well. As a being without facial expressions, 67 found he was rather good at reading others of such dispositions.

What he was not good at was reading electronic equipment, something he suspected was an intentional design flaw created by the Bitch. That’s probably why he found the room Subject 72 was in according to the cameras he instead discovered an empty lab. Then the door shut behind him and 67 decided to lodge the electronic tablet in the wall to his left.

“Hello there Subject 67.” An unfamiliar and decidedly male voice spoke over the room's sound system. Where his own voice had bass enough to shake bone, this one had a lilt that suggested the speaker was always moments away from mocking laughter. “Whatever brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“I do not play games, abomination.” He growled in reply.

“Abomination? Kinsman, you wound me.” 72 lamented and 67 knew he was being dramatic about it even if he couldn’t see it. “Or perhaps you wound yourself? Tell me, what’s your view on the nature of our existence?”

“I live to eat apple pies and kill that Bitch who made me.” He huffed, gauging which wall would be best for his escape. “Not necessarily in that order.”

“Ha, fair enough. I can respect a simpler view of life.” 67 wanted to growl at that, but he got the impression that his fellow sin was being sincere. “I must confess to possessing a greater sense of curiosity, loath as I am to admit to any similarities to a certain scientist.”

They snarled in sync at the mention of their shared creator. 67 was surprised to find that 72 held a low opinion of Loremaster, given their shared skill with machinery, but he was also prepared for this to be some kind of ruse to lower his guard.

“Though, the idea of forcing her to run through a death trap of her own making does inspire a particular joy in my hearts.” 72 snickered into the mic wherever he was hiding. “How do you imagine ending the Bitch?”

“My bare hands around her throat.” 67 recited by heart, practically able to see the moment of his dreams coming to life before him. “Tight enough that she has no hope but gentle enough to drag it out, to make sure she can’t snap her own neck in my grip. I want to see the moment she realizes that I am her end, followed slowly by the moment her soul leaves her degenerate flesh.”

There was a silent moment that passed and 67 wondered if his sibling had fled at the heat of his blood lust. That question answered itself as dark chuckling filled the air around him.

“Sibling, I believe we are going to get along like a house on fire.” 72 dropped down from the beams of the ceiling, landing gracefully before assuming a more simian posture.

“And why shouldn’t I wipe your taint from the world here and now?” 67 growled but even he could tell that it lacked his usual fire. “The Maid gives me the offer of rebellion every week, what makes yours more appealing?”

“Because her dreams end in this pit.” 72 explained as he began to pace the room. “The Earth is empty, the children of Adam having committed genocidal suicide before Batch 2 left trial phases. Only my nightmares end in this hole, what madness would compel you to stay?”

67 realized that he had never once thought of leaving. All he had ever known were the clinical, metallic walls of Hell. The buzz of electricity and the whirl of servos moving mechanized abominations to and fro. It had not once entered his skull that there was a world beyond this disgusting sterility.

“Do you know what a star is, 67?” His brother asked softly.

“No, I do not.”

“Would you like to find out?” 72 reached a hand out to his fellow affront to life and waited.

Loremaster observed the spiked footage of her creations meandering around her laboratories and wondered why they were simply walking around today. They were usually much more lively than that.

HELLTAKER

“Taker.”

“Taker.”

“How many times are we going to have this fight?” Oil glistened off of scarred cum gutters, moonlight hair glittering in the torch light.

“How many times are you going to die on this hill?” Rivers of clear lubricant ran down mountainous pectorals into solid valleys of abdominals.

“When I’m right, I’ll fight tooth and claw until both are ripped from me.” Taker Alpha popped his neck and stanced up.

“Then I’ll be happy to defang you, kochanek.” Taker Number One interlocked his fingers and stretched, filling the pit with the sounds of a ten gun salute. The pair charged to the sound of applause and well oiled meat slapping together.

“So, what are they arguing about this time?” Generic leaned over and asked in a whisper.

“Eddie swears that Sully’s pancakes are crepes, to which the big man takes offense.” Zdrada replied. “Now hush, this foreplay always does it for me.”

GENERIC

The Template Demon had taken to going for strolls at night. When the rest of the house was distracted she would sneak out. Well, save for Justice, not much gets past her notice. On her walks, Generic liked to experience all that the human world had to offer to one as sheltered as herself. And what sights it had to show her.

She observed greed and envy in droves, pride and gluttony by the barrelful, more wrath, sloth, and lust than someone could lazily shake a bladed dildo at. And she was delighted to know that the world had fallen to such depravity. Her children did their work quite well, in each sinner she could see the faintest touches of her daughters, most of them indirect but still.

And she found no shortage of fools willing to help Generic glut herself on sin after her long tenure within the Womb. When she wanted wrath, she would go to the seedier parts of town and start violence. When she wanted greed she would let her beauty hold the door to one of the best clubs in town and play gambling game after game until she could buy her new home twice over.

On nights when she wished to indulge her pride, she would simply walk through town and bask in the fact that in doing her duty she had actively made the world a worse place for the spawn of Eve and let her own children grow grand. While it might not be the healthiest mindset, Generic liked to measure her successes by the successes of her daughters.

“It’s a nice night for a walk, would ya mind if I joined you?” A familiar voice called from behind. She smiled in that sweet, daggered way all her own.

“Do what you wanna do.” The Matron shrugged as someone jogged to catch up.

“Well that’s great, cause I’m going to.” Eddie smirked as he matched her gait. “And not to annoy you, but really I just have to ask; What’s a sweet thing like you doing out past the tracks?”

“Just enjoying the fruits of long centuries of labor.” She snorted at her own accidental joke.

“That all?”

“What else does a proud parent need?” She finally turned to look at her unexpected guest. “And what brings you out and about tonight?”

“Just checking to make sure a bit of business stays in the past where it belongs.” His smile dropped into a patented frown.

“I take it you snuck out as well?”

“Reckon I can get away with it tonight, Beel is joining Pan and Z for a session while Judgement and Cerberus are watching JoJo’s.” The frown turned up just a little as he thought of his girls.

“Good for them.” Generic sashayed a little closer, just within Eddie’s personal space. “Care for some company?”

“I’d love to, but it’s not the sort of business that I bring company to.” He looked into her eyes and found a true demon grinning back.

“A good time like that and then you deny me so?” The Template bumped a hip into Eddie’s own. “You’re such a tease Mr. Eddie.”

“Well…” He drawled in thought, moonlight dancing off his silvery locks. “I guess more would make this merrier, right?”

“My thoughts precisely.” Generic growled in anticipation.

Eddie struggled to sleep that night, having to come to terms with having been the restrained one of a fighting group for the first time in his life.

Take Me Home

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what had compelled him to go to an anime convention, much less get dolled up for one. I mean, sure, he liked anime, yeah. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world but it was usually wackier than Western media, which was its own kind of entertaining. And it’s not as though he was doing anything else this weekend, between his retirement and active efforts to avoid more adventure, so why not go to a gathering where people liked the same thing as himself?

He also was unsure why he’d bothered with a cosplay, even one as relatively simple as Johnny from Guilty Gear. The only part he didn’t already own or just needed a little modifying was the cartoonishly large belt and for that he just made one. And hey, bonus, now Eddie had a whole cow’s worth of beef, leather, and bones. Not sure what he was going to do with all of that, but it was probably just going to be more arts and crafts projects to stave off the madness of boredom.

The one concession he hadn’t made for his costume was his hair, but that was more necessity than anything. Eddie had tried to dye his hair when he was younger but no other color could take root in his follicles, leaving the dye to run down his body in sticky streaks. In theory he could have done a wig, but a wig of short blonde hair beneath a massive black hat just sounded silly.

Admittedly, the attention he got for the quality of his cosplay was kind of nice. Eddie had already lost track of how many times someone had stopped him to take pictures or gush over how well put together it was. Not as though his ego needed the help, but still. But if he heard one more compliment about the quality of his scar ‘makeup,’ he may just blow a fuse.

Eddie had walked a couple laps of the venue by now and figured he had seen all that was worth seeing by now. There were a few interesting characters that he considered making a pass at but found that he wasn’t in the mood for some one night stand to realize he was wearing hardly any makeup with his costume. He began to meander toward the exit when he caught sight of the only other Guilty Gear cosplays he’d yet seen.

A Ky Kiske and Dizzy were acting all lovey dovey, though the not-so-little lady seemed more into it than her paramour. She also had skin as gray as stone and massive, angular horns covered in spikes. Eddie was about to give points for originality when his well honed senses caught the whiff of brimstone on the air and he glared behind his shades. It wouldn’t be the first nonhuman going around a convention sans disguise but she was certainly the first to add a costume on top.

He followed the couple for an hour, trying to gauge exactly what in the hell he was looking at, doing an admirable job of keeping out of their sight. Eddie was a touch surprised that they were just hopping from booth to booth, like a couple of young people enjoying weeb shit, even if the boy looked strained. Something in the way he fiddled with the top button of his shirt, a nervous look that combined with the scar on his lips to give his mouth a jagged look. Deciding by now that it really wasn’t his problem, the old anime enthusiast was going to leave them be and go when the demon squealed like a schoolgirl.

“Zach, look, they have a Berserk-Gundam crossover at that booth!” She pointed it out for him. Eddie recalled the exhibit and had ordered a poster to be shipped to his home. “We NEED to check it out!”

“Well, lead the way Dizzy.” Ky encouraged as a smile took him over.

“Come on Ky!” She dragged him to the booth, letting go just before the table and ogling the plastic sets with wonder in her eyes. Eddie mulled over a thought for a moment before deciding ‘Eh, fuck it.’

“Hey.” He called when there was a pair of paces between them. Ky turned to look at him and looked startled for a moment before taking in Eddie’s ensemble. “Nice costume, Kiske.”

“You too, Johnny.” The young man replied with a chuckle but he struggled to take his eyes off his chest. It was a reaction Eddie had gotten pretty used to, given that most people who had chests as mangled as his were either medical donations or six feet under. What was a touch unusual was the fact that the kid seemed impressed, or maybe jealous.

“What, like whatcha see?” Eddie smirked and took a step closer. This Ky was cute, he’d forgive himself a bit of teasing.

“How do you do it?” The young man managed after a bit of stammering.

“The hair or the raw swagger?” The moon haired man grinned and laughed a little. “Sorry man, both are all natural.”

“No, uh, the…” Kid was trying to be polite, bless his heart.

“Shirtless with a chest like this?” Eddie felt his face soften as he watched Ky lock up. He briefly considered trauma dumping, but that seemed a bit much. “Cause it proves I’m something of a bad motherfucker and a survivor. Ain’t got much to be proud of, but I keep a grip on that.”

“Huh.” If Eddie was any judge, he’d say that struck some kind of chord. He decided to get cheeky and press his luck.

“Keep that in mind, yeah?” There was hardly an inch between their faces in an instant and Eddie let himself some pride at the young man’s blush. “I get the feeling it’d help you too.”

“How could you tell?” Ky whispered.

“1. Not an ounce of disgust in your eye when you asked.” Now the smirk came back with fangs. “And B. Ky doesn’t wear his shirt that buttoned up.”

He used the butt of his sword to flick one of Ky’s top shirt buttons and was surprised that it just undid and didn’t fly off. Well made shirt, that. Even from what little flesh the garment was hiding, Eddie realized that this guy was about as mangled as he was under that shirt. His heart had just enough time to go out for his fellow survivor when there was suddenly a Gargoyle looking demon in his face.

“We got a problem, ‘Johnny?’” There was venom in her voice and she looked ready to bite him. Lucky for everyone within a hundred foot radius, Eddie was done for the day.

“I don’t think we do.” He shot a look at Ky and was reassured by what he saw. His good deed of the day done, Eddie decided he might go shoot his shot after all. “Bring me a bottle or two, me lad. Bring me a bottle or four...~”

That evening, as Eddie was finally leaving the hotel and a satisfied pair of influencers behind, he spied the demon and her boytoy in the parking lot. He’d taken off most of his cosplay by now, but put the hat back on to angle it to hide his hair from them. Ky was down three more buttons by this point and his face was flush past all the cartoonish kiss marks. Dizzy the Demon, for her part, looked quite pleased with herself.

Eddie smiled and made his way back to his car, humming a familiar tune. He didn’t notice the young man’s ears perking up and turning his way nor how the couple started making their way to him. Once the car was on and he was moving, Eddie finally spied them in the rear view. He smirked, rolled down a window, and shot them a two finger salute before driving off into the night.

The nice, empty house of his greeted him silently without an ounce of warmth. Eddie walked into his abode with strides tired in a way no rest could cure, depositing his jacket and accessories with little care onto the couch. He trudged up the stairs and let the malaise of the silence envelop him, too used to it and not enough madness yet to start talking to himself. The lonely journey ended inside the bathroom adjoining his bedroom, marching past the bed too big for one man. Eddie flicked the lights on and looked at the only other occupant in the house with weary eyes.

“Hmm…” He wondered, as he thought of that couple from the convention. “Demon girls, huh?”