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pricemarshfield · 3 years

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moments like these

A Figayda angst/hurt/comfort fic. Requested by @sapphic-tuesday even though they only requested it because I love Figayda. (ily bestie) Read on AO3 here.

Prompt: Figayda, angst, hurt/comfort, “You don’t need to stay.” “I don’t need to. But I want to.”

The forest is dark and damp and the worst fucking place Fig has ever been, and she's running as fast as she can to get away from herself. She'd point out how it's way too on the nose if she had any breath left, but as it stands, it's all she can do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, slower and slower.

Eventually she has to just collapse into the nearest bush, hope somehow that's enough stealth even as the crack of the branches seems to echo out for miles and miles. There's a long, long beat, where she thinks, just for a second, that maybe she's done it. Maybe the other her isn't too perceptive, either.

She hears an oddly pitched laugh from right behind her ear, as though she isn't lying on the ground, and when did the branches tangle around her leg? Where'd her bass go? Why did none of her friends even seem to care that someone else took her place--

Fig wakes up with a start, sits up, hits her head against her ceiling which is, of course, the living room floor. Her horns scratch it a bit, but thankfully, her mom won't ever see it. Her crystal says it's 3 in the morning when she checks it, and fuck, she's gonna be stuck in here for awhile if she can't pass back out.

She could send a quick text to the Mordred group chat (the manorlings, despite Ragh vying for 'OWLBEAR HYPE HOUSE') and ask if anyone's up to let her out, but then there'll be questions about why she's up, so she just concentrates on mage hand until she nails the chord and the ceiling opens.

The house feels too empty with everyone asleep, too stifling when she can't make any noise, but there's not exactly anywhere else she can go. Her days of sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to concerts aren't nearly as fun now that she misses her friends the whole time. Also, now people recognize her for being one of Solace's biggest stars or whatever, and that's just kind of a hassle when she's not in the mood for attention.

The living room couch is an old, cracked leather thing, moved from Jawbone's apartment. It's not comfortable in any traditional sense, but there's a groove in it that fits her perfectly, and that's nice, in its own way. Sometimes she misses the couch in the old house. It got burned to hell in the attack on prom night, though, so. The whole house did, honestly; when she went home after everything, the window in her bedroom was shattered, glass all over her bed so that she had to pick up each piece, vacuum up what small pieces she couldn't see. She still woke up with a couple cuts on her legs that she didn't have before, but it was home, even if the posters and the pink wallpaper were both singed, even if the purple comforter she'd had since she was a kid didn't smell like it used to.

The old Faeth house never really felt like home after her horns, sure, but Mordred...

She does like it here. Loves it, when everyone's crowded around the table, Adaine arguing with Kristen about some minute difference in casting, Jawbone telling a wildly off-color story to a confused-but-interested Aelwyn, Sandra Lynn making sure Ayda has enough food on her plate while she blinks back fiery tears.

But it doesn't change the fact that she lived here for all of a day before spring break, and right now the hallways and secret passages and tall ceilings all feel ominous, not exciting anymore.

She turns on the light before her mage hand dissipates, scrolls through the games she has on her crystal. Most of them are things she's had on here back when she liked unicorns and glitter and all those girly things that she never got around to deleting.

It's something to do, at least.

The bright colors are nostalgic in just the wrong way, and she makes it through two minutes of matching pop rocks and cake slices before she's scrolling through the games again, on-edge for no goddamn reason.

"Fig?"

Part of her relaxes against the couch before she's even finished processing the voice as Ayda. "Hey! I didn't think you were staying here tonight."

"I wasn't," Ayda says, looking at her with an expression she can't read at all. She's in a deep blue chemise, like she'd been sleeping before she walked through the enchanted door into Mordred. "I--may I sit?"

"Yeah, of course," Fig says, patting the spot next to her. "Always, babe."

Ayda cries a little as she sits, and Fig wipes the tears away. The first time she tried, when she was a normal tiefling and didn't wear the title of Archdevil, it stung a little, like stepping into a too-warm bath. Now, it feels just like the hint of warmth against her hand, uniquely Ayda and not at all painful. (Which is also uniquely Ayda, to never freak Fig out even when she's in this shitty mood.)

"So," Ayda says. "I was in Leviathan, as I needed to--well, still need to, I've merely decided the task isn't as important--I'm getting sidetracked."

"Yeah," Fig says, and when Ayda stiffens, says, "Not bad! Not a bad thing! It's cute."

"Oh," Ayda says. "I--sorry," and bursts into tears again. Fig wipes them away, kisses her cheek just 'cause she can, kisses the other one because she can feel Ayda's face get even warmer.

"No worries," Fig says, too late, because she's not--this is still new to her. "So what's going on?"

"As you know, I am a divination wizard, though not an Oracle like Adaine, our best friend." Fig nods. "But sometimes my dreams have--not prophecies, but looks into the present, or even occasionally the past."

"Okay," Fig says. "Is there, like, a slumbering demon lord underneath Mordred?"

"No," Ayda says. "I asked a ranger I know in Leviathan to check before he left on a journey to Sylvaire. Unrelated to the Nightmare King. I checked, just to be sure, because I am sure none of us want to deal with that again."

"Mmhm," Fig says, willing herself to keep breathing slow and easy and not tense up like she wants to. It's just Ayda talking about preventing further Nightmare King stuff. The Nightmare King doesn't even exist anymore, they're Cassandra, they're cool. "So, uh, what'd you see in your dream?"

"You," Ayda says. "That isn't uncommon. I dream of you often. You're in more of my dreams than not. Is that strange? Should I not have said that?"

"Not strange," Fig says, sure her cheeks are red rather than pink. "Just--I'm flustered, okay, give me a second."

Ayda nods at her, not smiling but face relaxed in a way that suggests the same feeling. Fig grabs her hand just to ground herself, squeezes it once. There's a moment before Ayda squeezes it back, like she's thinking about whether it's the right thing to do.

"Totally normal," Fig says, just in case.

"Good," Ayda says with one long exhale. "I was worried."

"You know, it doesn't matter to me if what you do is 'normal'," Fig says. "I like you whether what you do is normal or not!"

Ayda nods. "I want to finish my thought, but after that I want to kiss you. That was the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"You could kiss me and then finish the thought?"

"I would forget," Ayda says, like she doesn't remember everything, like Fig is enough to distract her. Fig can't quite meet her gaze, then, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She squeezes her hand again. Ayda squeezes back immediately. "Um. I'm distracting myself. What was I talking about?"

"Your dream."

"Right. Thank you, Fig. I dreamed about you, and I think it may have been--it was as though I was standing at your bedside. I know it was a dream and not sleepwalking, because I can't actually stand in your room--it's too short and I don't want to set your house on fire. But you seemed upset, and while I don't know if that was real or a dream or not, I couldn't--I couldn't just sit in my room and Leviathan without checking."

"Oh," Fig says. "Um. I'm fine."

"Hm," Ayda says. "You know, you were the one who told me that if people say they're fine, it very rarely means they're fine. I don't understand the logic of it at all, but I trust your insight."

"It's stupid," Fig says, and then, in a twist, bursts into tears herself. "God. It's stupid, I don't even know why I'm upset? Like, it's literally nothing, nothing is going on, I'm just dumb--"

"You are not dumb," Ayda says, and Fig hates herself all the more for the panic she can hear in her voice. "You have taught me so much, and if it matters to you, then it's not stupid. Fig?"

"Yeah," Fig says, voice embarrassingly choked up. She clears her throat as best she can, which isn't very well, since she's still actively crying. "Yeah, I know."

"I don't know what you know," Ayda says. "But I know that when I cry, you wipe my tears away, and I'm going to do the same for you, unless you want to stop me, in which case I won't."

Fig doesn't move, lets Ayda wipe away her tears even though it makes her want to cry more, someone being nice to her right now. "Thanks."

"Any time," Ayda says with the weight of a promise and not at all like the platitude most people would mean. "Do you want to talk about it? It's okay if you don't. I often don't want to talk about the things I'm going through when I'm still going through them."

"I don't," Fig says, because the idea of explaining the nightmare and Mordred and her old house being destroyed and feeling so, so unmoored and stuck all at once makes her want to tear her own hair out. "I don't--you don't need to stay. I'll be okay. If I'm not--if I can't talk about it, you don't need to stay."

"I don't need to stay," Ayda says, carefully, and Fig grips her hand tighter without consciously meaning to. "But I'd like to. If I can."

"I meant it when I said always," Fig says, still not looking at Ayda because she can't.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah," Fig says. "I always want you to stay."

Jawbone walks into the room on his way into the kitchen, sees two teenagers holding hands and crying and slightly-burning his couch, and decides he can just get water from the bathroom instead of the kitchen. He's not one to interrupt a moment.

#figayda #fig faeth the insatiable #ayda aguefort #fantasy high #dimension 20 #sapphic-tuesday #request #my fics

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mammon-sama · 4 years

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Operation: Pluck the Peacock (Fanfiction)

Uhm ... apparently this whole thing got deleted? What? Okay, here it is again. Again, just a super dumb thing I wrote for fun!

Title:

Operation: Pluck the Peacock

Summary:

The demon brothers face the immeasurably daunting challenge of trying to photograph Lucifer shirtless.

Genre:

Fluff/Humor/Slice of Life

Rating:

Word Count:

4958

“Ahem! Ahem! ” Asmodeus chirped from the front of the R.A.D Council Room. He rapped on the podium in front of him and frowned when he noticed the crowd of people that filled the room had yet to dispel their cacophony of chitchat. “I said ahem! ”

With that, the remaining six Student Council members, as well as their President, Lord Diavolo, quieted down.

Asmo raised an eyebrow. “You know, I thought at least you five—” he gestured toward Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor, “—would be eager to get this meeting started.”

Mammon gasped and smirked. “No kiddin’—totally forgot what this was about for a second there, to be honest.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed as he noticed the mischievous look that passed between Belphegor and Satan.

Asmo grinned at his elder brother’s suspicion.

“I’m only here ‘cause Beel ate the router,” Levi grumbled, his head on his desk. “I can’t play any games without connection and Barbatos said it’d be like, seven hours before he can get a chance to fix everything.”

“Belphie promised me a chocolate-covered cricket chip cookie if I went along with this!” Beel announced cheerfully.

Mammon turned around to face his brother and cocked his head. “Only one cookie, Beel? C’mon, I’d think ya’d rather take a steeper offer than that. I mean—” his smirk only grew as he peeked at Lucifer, “—I think this is gonna be good, but it’ll probably get us in a buncha trouble, too.”

Beel lowered his head and frowned. “I already ate the rest of the cookies in the box. Belphie just promised me the last one if I helped you guys with this.”

Asmo snapped his fingers from the podium. “That’s enough prattling from you two; we’ve got bigger matters to attend t—”

“Okay, I’ve had just about enough of this,” Lucifer decided. He stood up from his chair as Diavolo watched him eagerly. “Why in the world did you call us here, Asmo?”

Asmodeus scowled. “I was just about to get to that.”

“Well, don’t meander about your point and get to it, then.” Lucifer sighed and sat back down.

Feeling rather ruffled, Asmo huffed and said, “I am. In fact, we already sort of discussed this in a text message conversation awhile back.” From his back pocket, he pulled out a small, cleverly folded square of paper. Careful not to chip his nail polish, he unfolded the sheet to reveal a huge poster.

Lucifer rolled his eyes as he read aloud the bright, sparkly pink words on the said poster. “Operation: Pluck the Peacock.”

“Translation—get Lucifer shirtless,” Satan clarified, closing his eyes and smiling in satisfaction.

“And photograph him,” Belphegor added, with an equally devious grin.

“And sell it!” Mammon concluded.

“The last part’s debatable,” Asmodeus admitted. “He’s only saying that ‘cause he got so much cash off of Levi’s shirtless pic.”

Leviathan, who did not like to be reminded of his insurmountable internet fame from the picture of his toned swimmer’s body, scowled at Mammon. “I still am gonna kill you for that.”

Mammon smiled sweetly in response. “Yeah, and ya can bury me in the most expensive mausoleum there is, what with all the cash I made off of ya.”

Levi’s face grew red, but before he could lunge at his brother, Lord Diavolo rose from his chair, his face gravely serious.

Lucifer looked incredibly pleased with Diavolo’s somber expression, while the other six demon brothers exchanged irritated glances, worried that the President would shoot their idea down.

“I must say, Asmo, this is a rather frivolous thing to bring to the Student Council floor,” Diavolo said. As he saw six demon faces fall, he amended, “ But, frivolous is what we’re about here at R.A.D!”

“What? ” Lucifer blanched. “No, we’re not.” Attempting to regain his composure, he coughed and said, “With all due respect, Diavolo, this operation is a waste of time.”

Diavolo chuckled as he saw Lucifer’s pout. “Oh come on, Lucifer, there’s no harm in it. Besides,” he reasoned, “think of it as a test for you. A test to see if you can avoid your brothers’ attempts to ‘pluck your peacock.’”

Asmodeus smirked, while Levi blushed and stuttered, “D—don’t say it like that!”

“Then it’s settled, then!” Mammon cheered. “Operation: Pluck the Peacock is a go!”

“Okay, what’s our first order of business?” Satan asked, sitting at his desk, with Belphegor, Leviathan, and Mammon surrounding him. He peered behind him and sighed. “You can’t eat any of those books, Beel.”

Beelzebub, who was poking around in Satan’s mountain of books, sighed despondently, saying “I was just checking,” before flopping onto the bed.

“If you say so.” Satan rolled his eyes when he realized that the fifth-born demon was missing, as well. “Asmo, come on. This whole operation was your idea.”

“Hold on,” Asmodeus urged, as he too, nosed through Satan’s book collection. “You really don’t have any fun magazines around here, do you?”

Mammon raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, smarty-pants Satan’s gonna read some tabloidy stuff like that. Now, get over here.”

“Oh, calm down,” Asmo replied as he pranced toward the group. “I already have a foolproof idea.”

Belphegor yawned. “Oh, so it’s Mammon-proof?”

“Keep talkin’ like that, Belphie,” Mammon warned. “And I’ll lock ya back up in the attic, again!”

As if on cue, Beelzebub leaped off the bed and curled his hands into fists. “You wouldn’t dare, Mammon.”

“Gah! Cool it, Beel! I was just kidding!” Mammon yelped, backing into Levi, who growled irately.

Satan sighed. “Alright, everyone be quiet. Asmo, what was your idea?”

“Well, it wasn’t an idea, more like, a thought,” Asmo confessed.

Belphegor rolled his eyes. “Do you even know the difference between a thot and a thought ?”

“Yes, good job, Belphie,” remarked Satan drily. “Say two homonyms in spoken dialogue and expect us to know the difference. Very nice.”

Before Belphegor could hiss a reply, Beel sighed. “Can everyone just please stop fighting? This whole thing was supposed to be a fun way to pass the time and this isn’t fun.”

Satan nodded. “Beel’s right. Okay, Asmo, what was your thought ?”

“Well,” Asmodeus began. “A while back Lucifer was helping me get ready—sometimes he has impeccable taste, you know—and when we went through my closet, I remember that he seemed to be especially fond of this dark blue silk undershirt that I have. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he wanted it.”

“That’s it?” Mammon asked. “Ya wanted to brag about buyin’ silk undershirts?”

Satan massaged his forehead and conked Mammon on the head. “How can you and your one brain cell miss the point so badly?” He turned to Asmo and stroked his chin. “So, what you’re saying is, if you can lend him this undershirt and put him in a situation where he could damage it, he’ll take it off, revealing his chest underneath for us to photograph?”

“That’s right!” Asmodeus chirped.

“But what kind of situation would make Lucifer realize that he doesn’t want to ruin the silk and take off the shirt?” Beel wondered.

“We could throw him in a fire,” Belphie suggested, with an innocent grin that absolutely dripped malice.

While the rest of the brothers stared at Belphegor with gaping mouths, Satan snapped his fingers and nodded appreciatively. “He’s got a point. I mean, we live in Hell—fire is in no short supply. It’s economical, at least.”

“… or we could do something milder,” Levi suggested. “How about we have someone pretend to drown in R.A.D’s swimming pool and stage it so Lucifer walks by and has to save them?”

Mammon, who had some faith in his elder brother, wondered, “Would he really take time to strip off a silk shirt if someone was drownin’?”

“He’d better,” Asmo glowered.

“Fine. I suppose that’s a feasible idea, too,” Satan said. “But who will be the one to fake-drown in the pool?”

“Levi’ll do it,” Mammon, who was not thrilled with his younger brother’s constant death threats, offered. “I mean, he’s the one who suggested it, after all.”

“I second that,” Belphie agreed.

“I’m not doing this, guys!” Leviathan argued.

“I third it,” Beel replied.

“Still not gonna do it!” spat Levi.

“I four—” Asmo began before he was interrupted by Satan.

“—We only technically needed two affirmations for this to go through, and we’re wasting time. Sorry Asmo,” Satan explained. “Alright, Levi, get your swim trunks and acting skills on, because it’s time for Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt One: Drown the Fish!”

“I’m not supposed to represent a fis—” Leviathan insisted, but he was cut off as Beelzebub threw him onto his back and the six made their way over to R.A.D’s swimming pool.

“Guys, I just got a text from Lord Diavolo,” Asmo whispered as he, Mammon, Satan, Beel, and Belphie crowded behind the bleachers in the empty R.A.D natatorium, as they watched Leviathan bob up and down in the pool. “He says when we get the shirtless pics of Lucifer, we should send them to him.”

Belphie scowled. “I thought you were supposed to ask him if he could ask Lucifer to do some fake Student-Council-related stuff here by the pool.”

Asmodeus huffed. “I did, and he said he would. I just thought that information would be more interesting.”

“ Shh! ” hushed Satan when a loud rumble reverberated through the room. “I hear something.”

Beel blushed. “Sorry, that was me.”

“No, wait—I actually hear footsteps this time,” Mammon whispered, and sure enough, the group could hear footsteps through the natatorium’s door.

“Levi! Start drowning!” Satan hissed.

“Whatever,” Levi mumbled as he quietly laid his head back in the water and tilted it back. He mimicked gasping and stiffened his legs, remaining for the most part, quite quiet.

The brothers watched this natural display, before Belphie growled, “That’s not ‘drowning,’ Levi.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to play it up more! Start coughing and spasming and screaming ‘n’ stuff!” Mammon called.

Leviathan scowled. “Have you guys ever seen anyone drown before? No one does that!”

“Do it anyway! Lucifer doesn’t know that, and besides, there’s nothing wrong with being dramatique! ” Asmo encouraged.

Levi rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine.” He took a deep breath, and as soon as the natatorium door creaked open, he began to scream, “ Help! Someone save me! I’m drowning! I can’t breathe! ” He thrashed around in the pool, making the normally stagnant water an array of waves.

Lucifer walked in, deliberately, and ignoring the ‘drowning’ Levi, knelt down by the pool, took out a small beaker and strip from his pocket, and began to take samples of the water.

“Um, hello! ” Levi groused, splashing even more. “ I said I’m drowning, here! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking pH samples of the water for Diavolo,” Lucifer replied easily, carefully dribbling a drop of the pool water onto the pH strip.

“Yeah, but I’m drowning! Don’t you see me splashing and dying here? ”

“Levi, you spend an unholy amount of time in your aquarium, are the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and not to mention, can breathe underwater. If you’re going to drown, do it with a little more class.”

“Oh. Crap, you’re right.”

From behind the bleachers, Mammon shook his head, disheartened. “I knew we were forgetting something,” he said, which earned him another bonk on the head from Satan. He wheeled on his brother. “Quit it! Also, I’ve got another plan. I call it Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Two: Boil the Bird!”

“How did you even know the code to get in here?” Satan wondered as he, Mammon, Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Asmodeus huddled behind a bookcase in Lucifer’s private study. Leviathan, who caught a cold from spending so much time in the freezing R.A.D pool in their last expedition, couldn’t attend the next phase of the operation.

“Lucky guess,” Mammon shrugged, modest for once. “And ya did turn the heat up all the way, right, Beel?”

“Yes,” Beel nodded. “It was set to Light Burn in here before, but I switched it to Dante’s Inferno. It’s going to take a few minutes to kick in.”

Asmodeus frowned. “If the heat ruins my hair, Mammon you’d better be ready to foot my salon bill.”

“Hey! Why me?” argued the secondborn demon.

“Because turning up the heat in Lucifer’s study to get him to take off his clothes was your lousy idea,” affirmed Asmo.

“Shut up, you two,” Belphegor hushed in irritation. “Lucifer’s gonna come into his office any moment and he can’t know we’re in here.”

The five demons stood in silence as they heard footsteps approach the door.

As they heard the automated door slide open, Mammon gagged. “Holy Father, I’m feelin’ it now—the heat.” A sweat broke out over his body and he fanned himself with his hand furiously.

Satan, who was considerably less sweaty, frowned at Mammon, as Lucifer walked into the room.

The brothers peeked at the eldest through empty spots in the bookcase and watched as Lucifer raised his eyebrows.

“That’s strange,” the firstborn muttered. “I don’t remember turning the heat on in here.” He shook his head and sat down at his desk. He worked quietly for a few minutes, before succumbing to the temperature and taking off his cape.

“One layer of clothing down,” Asmo whisper-sung. “Two more to go.”

Satan nodded and wiped the perspiration off his brow. “Beel, turn up the heat.”

“Okay. I’ll set it to Inside of a Just-Cooked Pizza Roll—that’s even hotter than Dante’s Inferno.” Beel agreed. “Mmm … Pizza Rolls.”

As Beel turned the heater dial, Mammon slunk to the floor, moving the hair off his forehead and fanning himself even faster, trying to cool himself down. “I’m beginnin’ to think this was a bad idea.”

Belphegor shook his head. “I guess the ‘bird’ in Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Two: Boil the Bird was a ‘crow.’”

“Look, look,” Asmo ushered and gestured toward Lucifer, who was beginning to unbutton his vermillion vest. “Inside of a Just-Cooked Pizza Roll is hot enough to make him take off another layer of clothing.”

Mammon put his head on his knees, beginning to strip off his clothes, as well. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take, guys. My head’s startin’ to hurt, now.”

“Too bad,” Satan said unsympathetically as he dragged his brother, whose skin was turning red, off the ground. “This was your idea.”

“And it seems to be working,” Belphie admitted. “Beel, turn up the heat; we just need him to take off his shirt, now.”

Beel obediently turned toward the heater dial, again. “The heat is now going from Inside of a Just-Cooked Pizza Roll to Seat Belt Tongue on a Hot Summer Day.”

The five brothers, all completely drenched in sweat, watched eagerly as Lucifer meticulously began to unbutton the black shirt that was the last layer of clothing on his torso.

But, as his red-nail-polished (sausage) fingers fumbled with the last button, there was a muffled gasp from Mammon as the secondborn collapsed.

Satan raised his eyebrows as he realized what had happened. “Heatstroke. We’ve got to get him to the infirmary, now.”

Beel grabbed his brother and ushered the remaining three silently out the door of the study without Lucifer seeing them.

“I guess even demons have their heat tolerances,” Asmo mumbled as the group marched down the House of Lamentation’s corridors, without a picture of Lucifer shirtless to show for their troubles.

“Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Three: Give Him a Cupcake is a terrible name, Beel,” Asmo sighed. “All the other names for the attempts sounded mysterious��this one is just saying exactly what we’re going to do to him.”

Beel’s brows downturned and he looked down. “Well, it doesn’t say what I’m going to do with the cupcake.”

Satan raised an eyebrow. “The name literally says we’re going to ‘give’ it to him, Beel.”

“He means after that,” Belphie retorted, always quick to defend his twin. “You can’t know that we’re gonna ‘accidentally’ smear the cupcake all down the front of Lucifer’s shirt after we give it to him just from the name.”

Asmo shrugged. “This whole attempt lacks decorum if you ask me, but I guess it’s all we’ve got.”

“Hopefully your plan works, Beel,” Satan said. “Mammon’s still in the infirmary and Levi won’t come out of his room since he’s nursing his cold, so we’re dropping like flies here and we still haven’t gotten the picture.”

Beel gulped, not enjoying the pressure that this whole ordeal put on him. “I hope it works, too.” He fiddled with the frosted pink cupcake that he held in his hands, going against every single one of his instincts to eat it.

The four remaining demons stood aside in the R.A.D hallways, waiting for Lucifer to walk by after his daily meeting with Diavolo.

“Now, Beel,” Satan reminded his brother. “When you end up smearing the cupcake on Lucifer, make sure you smash the frosting so that it gets on both his vest and the shirt underneath—aim for mostly the upper part of his torso. It’s after school hours now, so he should be in his everyday clothes and not his uniform.”

Beel nodded, faithfully ignoring the growl of his stomach as he and his brothers waited for Lucifer to walk past them.

After a few minutes, Belphie spotted a dark figure skulking down the hallway. “There he is. Go, Beel.”

Beelzebub walked toward his brother and greeted, “Hey, Lucifer.”

Lucifer cocked his head in confusion but smiled demurely at him. “Beel.”

Painfully, Beel reached out his hand and offered Lucifer the cupcake. “H—here.” He could barely make out the words; how could he possibly give away food? “You … you can have this.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You? Offering me food, Beel?” He made the connection between this gesture and the operation instantly, and his smile widened. He pushed Beel’s hand away, and in his gentlest tone said, “No, thank you. Please take it for yourself.”

Beel’s eyes widened in excitement. “Really?”

Lucifer nodded. “Yes.” He pulled his brother close and spoke quietly. “In fact, Beel, drop this whole operation and I’ll buy you a dozen cupcakes.”

Beelzebub stepped away, realizing Lucifer’s ploy. “I—no, I … can’t.” His stomach growled loudly in protest.

“Two dozen, then.”

“I—I—I can’t—”

“Three dozen. And all of the ‘dozens’ will be baker’s dozens.”

“ … Fine.”

From afar, Satan watched Lucifer walk away with Beel and hissed, “That snake.”

Belphegor frowned and stomped on his foot. “Hey.”

“Not Beel,” Satan reassured. “Lucifer just stole one of our team members.”

Asmodeus shook his head. “And now there’s just us three remaining.” His eyes lit up deviously. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“If you suggest a threesome, Asmo, I’ll end you,” Belphegor warned.

Asmo retorted, “Um, excuse me, if I was going to suggest anything like that, I’d do it when there were more of us together so we could do it orgy-style.”

“Well, what were you going to suggest, Asmo?” queried Satan.

Asmodeus grinned deviously. “Actually I was going to suggest a threesome—Ow! Belphie, kick me again, I dare you! Anyway, but now I just thought of the answer to getting Lucifer to take his shirt off—sex.”

Belphegor and Satan exchanged a look. “ … What?” they chorused.

“Just leave it to me. I propose, Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Four: Get the Cock!”

“This isn’t going to work,” Belphie remarked drily. He and Satan were poised outside Lucifer’s room, in which Asmo was alone with Lucifer.

Satan shook his head. “I know. I don’t know what he’s thinking, trying to seduce Lucifer like this. We know the only person that can make Lucifer go boing! is D— ”

“Wait—shh … I hear something.” Belphegor had his head pressed up against Lucifer’s door and raised his eyebrows. “Holy Father … I think … I think I hear Asmo’s ‘Sexy Time’ playlist on the speakers.”

The fourth-eldest brother scrunched his nose. “You don’t think …?”

Belphegor blanched as he heard Lucifer’s voice through the door. He repeated the words back to Satan, saying, “‘Oh, Asmo … I’m going to make you feel so many things …’” His eyes widened. “I hear footsteps, and they’re getting closer. Holy Father, Holy Father, someone’s coming to lock the door.” He turned to Satan, his eyes wild. “They’re gonna do it!”

“Oh, my …” Satan gulped as he too, heard the footsteps draw near. “Perhaps we should go.”

Belphie looked conflicted. “I don’t kn—”

Before he could get very far, the door to Lucifer’s room swung open and Lucifer—fully clothed—marched out, not noticing the two eavesdroppers standing sentinel at his threshold.

“And all of those things I said you’d feel—” Lucifer said, his voice menacingly smooth, as he made his way over to Asmodeus’ room, wielding a rather large, rather sharp pair of scissors. “—are all going to be variants of pain .”

Asmo sprinted out after him, his face red with exertion.

Satan flew onto his feet. “What happened?”

The fifth-born demon paused in his race to say, “He was totally into it—I swear! Or at least, I thought he was until he said ‘Oh, Asmo … I’m going to make you feel so many things …’ and then walked out with a pair of scissors. He said he’s gonna cut up all my clothes! I think he knows it was all a plot!” With that, he continued to sprint after Lucifer.

“ … Or maybe he just didn’t want to fool around with Asmodeus,” Belphegor reasoned.

Satan nodded. “That’s more likely. And besides … Asmo should be glad Lucifer’s gonna slice up all his clothes. That way they’re more revealing—which is what he likes, anyway.”

“Yeah, but there goes another member of our team.” Belphie squinted his eyes at Satan. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“ … seems that way. Any ideas for the next attempt?”

“No.”

“Hm, well, I think I have one, then.”

“ … I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before,” Belphie sighed. “This way is so much easier.”

Satan bobbed his head. “Yes, Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Five: Unleash the Magic should be our easiest try, yet.” He flipped open his spellbook. “What’s really impressive is that I’ve magically found a super-convenient, super-specific curse that instantly vaporizes someone’s shirt and only their shirt through a blast of heat but only if its aimed properly at their heart.”

“Better not show that to Asmo,” Belphegor warned. “Vaporizing shirts sounds like something he could easily take advantage of.”

Satan pointed to a section of the text in the book. “No need to worry about that; it says right here that the spell is one-time use only. Once it’s incanted, the spell can never be used again.”

“Huh, the book also says that if the produced heat isn’t directed at the heart, the heat won’t function as it’s supposed to—that is, to vaporize clothes—but will work as regular heat and cause a fire using whatever the user pointed at as fuel,” Belphie read.

“We have to get this right on the first try, then. Asmo’s usually the designated photographer, but since he’s too busy crying over his ruined clothes, you better have your D.D.D out to take a picture of Lucifer as I say the spell,” ordered Satan.

Belphie pulled out his device. “Got it.”

“Alright.” The pair were huddled behind a couch in the Common Room. Lucifer was seated on the couch across from them. “I’m going to incant the spell right here. The tip of my pointer finger should glow fiery orange once I’m done. Then, I’ll get up from behind this couch and point my glowing finger at Lucifer’s heart. I’ll say the release command for the spell, which should cause the heat from my fingers to zoom toward Lucifer and vaporize his shirt. Afterward, you take the picture.”

Belphegor nodded.

Satan continued and muttered aloud from his spellbook, “ In eaque faciam ignis / ignis ardens et lucens tam secura / ut hac flamma quae mando ad conflandum / quem legeret furore libare. ” With this, Satan rose, his fingertip burning hot with the spell.

Lucifer, who had been studying a page of music on the other Common Room couch, widened his eyes in confusion, as Satan pointed his finger at his brother’s heart. “What in the Celestial Realm—”

“Hey, everyone! Your favorite brother Mammon has been released from the infirmary and can now stay in the comforts of his own bed!” was heard from the hallway, just as Satan shouted, “Release command: adolebitque!”

However, when Satan heard the caterwaul that was Mammon’s voice, he turned behind him to see the commotion. This caused his entire body—and therefore, the position of his poised finger—to shift. The heated, released spell burst from his fingers and zoomed toward a hand mirror that Asmodeus had left on the coffee table earlier.

Belphie dutifully snapped a picture of the spell’s effects once it reflected off the mirror and came barreling back at him who incanted it and lit Satan’s hair on fire.

“Belphegor,” Satan said through gritted teeth and he tried to fan out the inferno that was his head. “Delete that photo immediately.”

Well, Operation: Pluck the Peacock was a bust, Belphie thought sleepily, just awakening from a nap in the Music Room. Normally, his favorite spot to sleep was the Planetarium, but he had been doing his schoolwork and the Music Room helped him concentrate. Everyone just gave up, it seems, due to some reason or another. Too bad—having a shirtless picture of Lucifer would be excellent blackmail.

It was nighttime, and Belphegor figured he should be warm in his bed, but he had been kept on his toes all day with the whole operation, and he felt too tired to pry open his eyes and meander back to his room.

So he lay there, half-asleep on one of the Music Room chairs until he heard footsteps wander into the room.

Who the Hell is that? he wondered. Most of those guys are usually asleep by now. He opened one of his eyes slightly and closed it immediately when he saw who it was and what they were wearing. Holy crap, Lucifer doesn’t wear a shirt to bed. Opening his eyes a crack, he stared in amazement at his brother’s shirtless form as he scrounged the Music Room for what Belphegor assumed to be some late-night classical music; Lucifer, being the ex-Angel of Music, was easily soothed by calming tunes.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Belphie reached into his sweater pocket and pulled out his D.D.D, ready to take a picture. Only, as soon as he clicked the button to capture the image, a loud click resounded throughout the room.

Crap, crap, crap, I forgot to turn off my ringer.

Lucifer, who had just noticed Belphegor’s body slouched in one of the chairs from the noise, sprinted over to his brother as he realized what had occurred.

The firstborn brother grinned maliciously, suddenly transforming into his demon form as he politely spat, “Delete that. Now.”

Diavolo shook his head in disappointment at the Student Council members the next day. “I assume from your faces that Operation: Pluck the Peacock was a bust?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Satan muttered, shaking his head. “Even with all of us together, none of us could get Lucifer to take his shirt off.”

Mammon shrugged. “Hey, the Great Mammon totally could’ve done it, y’know!”

“You literally passed out because of heat. What kind of demon does that?” Asmo retorted.

“And don’t count me among all you who failed,” Belphie argued. “I actually got a shirtless Lucifer picture. Until he made me delete it, that is.” He turned to glare at brother.

Asmo let out a pertinent hmph and grumbled, “Killjoy.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened. “Wait—is that true, Lucifer? Your brothers did complete their challenge?”

“I don’t consider catching me in my pajamas and taking a picture to be ‘completing the challenge,’ Diavolo,” Lucifer reasoned, ignoring the angry stares of his brothers. “I believe the whole point was for them to cause me to have my shirt off, not me having it off regardless.”

“We never really specified the details,” Beel admitted, after a moment of silence.

Levi looked up from his D.D.D, where he had been playing a mobile gacha game, since Barbatos had fixed the router. “Yeah, so that technically means that we can clarify the rules, now, if we want.”

Satan nodded and rubbed his chin. “That’s right. I vote we make it so that we could have photographed Lucifer shirtless, regardless of his reason for being so.”

“I second that,” Belphie agreed.

“I third it,” Beel replied.

“I four—” Asmo began before he was interrupted by Diavolo.

“—Sorry for cutting you off, Asmodeus, but we only technically needed two affirmations for this to go through,” said Diavolo, his face lighting up. “That settles it. Lucifer, since you wrongfully deprived me—I mean, your brothers—of a shirtless picture of you yesterday during Operation: Pluck the Peacock, I hereby declare that you must grace us with your glorious shirtless figure right here and now in the R.A.D Council Room!”

As the six brothers cheered, Lucifer’s eyes widened. “I most certainly will not!”

“You must! It’s an order!” Diavolo countered.

Lucifer frowned and blushed. “ … Fine. Just … don’t take any photographs. I’d rather not have this ridiculous event emblazoned across the internet.”

Once Lucifer had unbuckled the belt of his robelike school uniform and undid the buttons, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor and Diavolo all whipped out their D.D.Ds and captured the most ethereal image of all—Lucifer’s abs.

THE END

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elizabethrobertajones · 6 years

Photo

Dean & Cas Are In Love

A hopefully one day conclusive study of these assholes, hopefully told as briefly as I can.

Written for the people in the fandom who care but sometimes need a pick me up on this, and not written to prove a point to anyone who doesn't already care. <3

Dean needs Cas to get Dick

... They boned him together.

Slightly less visually erotic and more punnery innuendo-y parallel of Sam and Dean killing Ruby together in 4x22 >.>

Anyways.

Season 7 ends, and this episode is dependant on the journey Dean and Cas go through to make amends. There is no formal goodbye or even good luck between Sam and Dean - their last conversation is about Bobby, and the funeral scene is their last real shared scene; after that it’s Dean n Cas paired together until the end.

But let’s start at the top :D

While Carver era isn’t utterly devoid of barbs like this, I’m honestly struggling to think of one that is so overt aside from the deleted 10x14 scene than Meg’s “he was your boyfriend first” line. I feel like this is the end of the really on the nose teasing and jabbing at them as if being in love is an insult, and the beginning of a more nuanced handling - and don’t worry, deleted scenes are on my to-do list as we get deeper into Wonderland >.>

Through Cas’s return, Meg has acted as a block and a romantic rival, in both overt and not so overt ways. She shows up to get between Dean n Cas having more private reconciliation and then seems to “win” who gets Cas, while admitting freely it’s a power grab and for her own protection against Crowley. By 7x23 she shows up fed up with Cas and unable to deal with him, handing him off to Dean to talk to and try and reason with him. Considering the ownership battle she conjured on her end, it has the feeling of conceding ground, and in this case she frames it in the romantic terms of Cas having been Dean’s boyfriend first. She treats it as if it were a fling and she is resigning from the competition to bag Cas as a boyfriend, and returning him to Dean. While she hangs around and helps some more, for the rest of the episode, she no longer hits on Cas or does more than look at him a few times, while Dean is left to deal with him.

The moment where Dean goes to talk to Cas in the car, I like that moment where Dean takes a breath... Those top two gifs have been thrown around fandom a lot out of context or for fun, but there’s serious stuff going on in them - as often with this show and/or fandom, the funny things have a real story to them. I like that Dean is still struggling to face Cas, but he will make the effort in a way that Meg clearly won’t, and talks him to come inside with gentle, friendly persuasion. But like with 7x21 before he goes to talk to him in the day room, he needs a moment to face Cas in this state, as he finds it saddening and troublesome to talk to him, though, unlike Meg, he makes an effort.

Then, we have their ongoing argument which builds up over the course of the episode, but by this point bubbles over about WHY they need Cas to get Dick. And why Cas has been resisting the entire time. His self-worth from the whole betrayal and Godstiel thing is obviously his most prominent, painful trauma. He has to spell out for Dean why he won't help, but this is the most clarity he shows in a while, and in this episode Gamble writes his non-sequiturs as very clearly labelled avoidance of questions or thinking about his problems. In 8x08 we'll get another look into his head when he talks about avoiding going back to Heaven with Dean, and I suspect that's based on the intention with how he was feeling during this time as well.

Dean responds by bubbling over with his own shit; this is for both sides of the argument, their stuff in 7x21 finally reaching its conclusion, and of course both are mis-handling it in some ways, through avoidance or anger, and are not at their optimal harmony... To be delicate about it >.> It's harsh to watch, but Dean's anger about Cas is not (just) selfish or motivated to save them - we see multiple times his own pain at seeing Cas in this state, and lines which betray how much it hurts and how he wants Cas back to how he was because, you know, Cas is his friend and he cares a lot about him. Translated into anger, he lashes out with his pain in the situation, the unfairness that Cas can avoid and refuse to help when he caused all that harm, and even to this day is something where Cas still feels bound to make amends for things that he broke - season 13 finally returning to the theme of how much damage he did to Heaven. Dean telling Cas this so harshly is the painful shock that pokes at Cas's guilt, but also betrays Dean's own pain and investment in Cas's situation.

As with moments when they physically attack each other, obviously emotional lashing out betrays care but shouldn't be like... romanticised and stuff. Just, taking this in a fictional story setting etc.

Anyways, after this, Cas goes into a defensive full denial mode for a bit, and they turn to doing Bobby's passing on; at the end of this scene, the camera dramatically pans to Cas with rising dramatic music, and it turns out he watched the whole scene. Of course though he was not a part of his, his presence is necessary and important, because he cared for Bobby too, and Bobby died fighting the leviathans, which Cas unleashed. This is part of his "mess" as Dean put it, and something he confronts, silently, on his terms. There's no camera work to suggest Dean sees Cas watching but I like to think that he does, as he was facing the right way, and between Dean yelling at Cas, and him going to him in peace, this is the only thing that happens. I think Cas's remorse is very important even though it may be silent, as is bridges these moments, giving Cas honest reflection which he can't divert from - seeing Bobby, someone he cared about a great deal, as a ghost that they're forcing to move on. And Dean knowing that Cas came and watched this and was a part of the family scene despite his current withdrawal from helping them.

Dean approaching Cas is wonderful because finally he doesn't demand Cas help them, but finds a peaceful middle ground of something Cas can do to help but that doesn't involve violence, meaning that despite all of Dean's anger, he wants to help Cas find a way to help them, to clean up his mess, but to do it on terms which Cas can handle. This peace also allows Cas to think about it in non-confrontational terms, and to face up to what sending Dean in to fight Dick alone will mean if he doesn't help.

The "I'd rather have you, cursed or not" line has been picked over a lot, both positively on gifsets and general squeeing, and negatively about its connotations that it can still carry a suggestion that Dean only wants Cas to help them because he's the only one who WILL help them, at this stage, and they know that they need him. I like the line after it better, as it's the much more personal appeal, the sense of them being in it together, and that it's not just anything - this is something that Dean feels as a connection between them. The less emotional pep talk and more personal nonsense the line, the more it really means, as he's not saying this in the same tone of voice as rallying Cas, just pointing out that they're all in shit creek together.

Cas understands what Dean's getting :D

I should have giffed as well, but no room and I have to make cuts somewhere, Cas asking about what the plan was - because the plan involves Cas being brought along PEACEFULLY, only for Dick identification, while Dean was supposed to be the one to fight Dick alone, Cas at his side, but the expectation was that Cas had one role and Dean had the other.

In the end, they tag-team him. :')

Also: Dean's absolute trust that Cas knows Dick when he sees him, and Cas defending Dean from Dick advancing on him, after all that stuff about not fighting, once again as with deflecting Hester away from Dean, he steps in to protect Dean, and even grabs Dick from behind so Dean gets his clean second shot at him that does the job.

Of all season finales, 7x23 really floors me for how embedded the Destiel narrative is in it, when this isn't even a majorly Destiel season for obvious reasons, and I never felt like Gamble wanted much to do with them in that sense. Whether it's just because of leading into Carver era or what, or the need to make amends both in the writing for Cas and in the meta level for the writers, once Cas was back this story was oh so very much about and for him, as he was the one responsible, and he had both emotional damage with Sam and Dean, and plot damage to handle. If he was to return as a main character next season and have even halfway a reboot back to a regular Cas, he needed a full redemption in the narrative, and to be brought back into play alongside Dean and back in his rightful place at his side. And this is the set up to get them there, from the awful mess left at the beginning of the season. :D

#Dean and Cas are in love #destiel #my stuff #lizbob gifs #7x01 #queue

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perfect-corroscience · 5 years

Text

Chapter 34: The Light of Devotion

“The seeds of that fate were sown here.”

Previously, a rebellion occurred. It was swiftly handled, but was a pyrrhic victory: Proto was damaged, the Oxsecians found selection was bias in favor of the royal family, despite (in some cases) their genes saying otherwise, and finally Oxsecia imploded. It was not a good day for anyone, really.

34-1 It had to live solely for its objective – as Proto had.

Whereas chapter 33 had Electric enemies, this chapter will have Ice enemies for most of it. This is a bad team to bring, for reasons that will become fairly clear.

Side note: this was done during a half-stamina event. It was originally 24 stamina, then a later update reduced it to 20.

Though despairing, the Oxsecian king could not simply stand by while his people destroyed each other in a civil war.

Animata was responsible for all of it. This tragedy started with her.

It wasn’t the king alone. Rancor towards Animata was swelling among the people. The only way to cleanse it was to strike at the root.

Options were few. They no longer even had a place to call home. He needed to take up the banner and lead the fight against her.

The king’s hand rested on Proto’s remains.

They needed a symbol. An unstoppable weapon that sought only bloodshed and destruction. It had to live solely for its objective – as Proto had.

36AIS was sound asleep. Gazing at her peaceful face on a nearby monitor, the king declared his intentions aloud.

“…We shall dispose of the unfit.”

The hand gripping Proto’s remains trembled almost imperceptibly.

That resolution went into effect almost immediately.

Those branded unnecessary to the cause of the Oxsecian people frantically sought escape. Shunned and stigmatized by the public, they howled their resentment, raged, and desperately fought back.

Ironically, they proved unfit in this, too. The royal forces crushed their resistance as easily as ants.

The king saw their pain. But it only convinced him that these weak links were his people’s biggest obstacle to destroying Animata.

Emotion often clouds judgement and vision, leading us off course.

The Oxsecian ship, meanwhile, reached its destination. The unfit would be exiled here.

Welp.

Four battles, with ice enemies. Both are pretty annoying; the Ice Golem’s Blizzard attack hits everyone, and the Snow Spook’s Icy Counter hits fairly hard.

As shown.

The wiki claims the last battle has four of these guys at level 75, but my image order says they’re apparently level 78. I guess it’s not that big a difference either way.

Still, they can hurt, especially if you get multiple attacks hitting your team. I came into this last floor with everyone alive.

By the end, the team’s been halved. Amazora’s only alive because she has Anti-Ice Shield as a skill. Pretty sure this would’ve been a wipe if I didn’t have Gatz or Rikken on the team and instead went with frailer units.

34-2 You’ve been assigned to take them to the execution grounds.

Now this is a team that’s more suited for much of this chapter. It helped that I’d managed to yolo roll Koko and Lewto a while back. (This is not the first time I’ve gotten some useful units in this game from that…)

If I hadn’t rolled them, hard to say how I’d manage in all honesty. I never worked on getting Bahamut or his recode until chapter 40 because I just never had Piz’fer a lot of Ice units prepped and able to reliably clear Bahamut Ultra until recently, but he’s a fantastic free unit and really good for this chapter.

If I were diligent at the time in gathering the materials, I could have recoded Lewto and Koko, which would also make things easier. Still, even just having those two helped. Currently, you could probably field a team that’s either all-Fire or a mix of Fire and Solar units, something like Bahamut^/Lewto^/flex/flex/flex/flex, and coast through much of this chapter.

They have execution grounds on the old hunting place… So what, does this entail leaving them to fend off wild animals? A nice place to sit and freeze to death?

Icebind is fun and familiar to anyone who has Leviathan^. It freezes anyone caught in the radius, preventing them from moving/acting, and works a lot like petrification in many JRPGs in that if they’re attacked (pincered, in this case), they shatter and die even if they would’ve normally survived the pincer.

The other, similar looking enemy is a Mini Frostshroom, which just has Glacier, Area (1).

Icebind can be cured with Panacea or blocked with a Dragon’s Badge/Amulet (Icebind Guard) or Dragon’s Talisman/Buckler (Icebind Ward), but those are CoT/F otomos. Easiest thing to do is just avoid being in range and pincer the mushroom horizontally.

34-3 “He needs someone who understands him.”

Another new stage, another new enemy. Are those little beady eyes? How cute!

Things sometimes got dicey for the team, but Sorman and Rikken are there to keep everyone’s health topped off.

34-4 A heavy thud shakes the area.

You can tell I covered this a long time ago since there’s no Solar/Lunar signs, stamina cost was 24, and co-op mode is still present. Anyway, I show this because there was a fatal error – namely, having units with odd levels for reasons you’ll see shortly.

You’d think, but even in real life, this is so rarely the case…

The boss of 34-4 is Layla. She’s not very nice and opens by confusing anyone who isn’t evenly leveled or lacks Confusion Guard/Ward (whether by skill or otomo equip) for nine turns. You really don’t want anyone confused, especially when the stage is packed full of enemies like this one.

Confused units do not take part in pincers, so that’s fun. I guess if you have to bring someone odd-leveled (tired of level grinding?), you could bring along someone with Clarity (Kana, R’zonzand, Palpa) or otherwise able to cure status effects.

I didn’t, so it’s just a real bad time for everyone.

Let’s try that again with better levels. Incidentally, for this stage, it plays The Shattered Land instead of the regular boss music.

It’s a vast improvement; I can actually get in some pincers and clear out the Ice mooks. Anything that helps kill them is another thing keeping the team from being overwhelmed.

Everyone can even get to work chipping Layla’s health down. From what I’ve seen, she’ll use Blizzard once she starts getting low on HP.

3 turns in, there’ll be a message that says, “Poised to strike back…” and Layla will start glowing. Avoid pincering her during this time; she has a hidden skill called Icy Retribution where she counters pincers with 8x physical and ice damage counterattacks. As a reference, the strongest attacks have a 3.5x multiplier – getting hit by this is generally a total party kill.

The game cheekily describes the skill with “Let sleeping dragons lie.” She can be hurt indirectly though; even if she’s hit by AoE skills, Magic Bombs, your own units’ counterattacks from pincering the mooks or vice-versa, she won’t retaliate against those.

If you don’t pincer her, you’ll get the message “Counterattack disrupted” and she’ll use Icefall instead.

The Treants aren’t as threatening, but they can do a lot of damage if they group up and gang up on a few of your units or move in ways where you can’t really make a good pincer or heal someone about to die.

Once the mooks are gone, it’s just a matter of slowly chipping her down, ideally with vertical pincers instead of this.

34-5 All the years Proto spent with the king were wiped clean.

Amongst those memories is a father's strangled cry of anguish at having to abandon his daughter.

It's a recording of the king's voice. An auxiliary battery was evidently running after Proto's main power supply shut down.

A scientist hits the delete command with a practiced movement.

“...Error?”

The command is rejected. Resistance from Proto, perhaps?

“Bah. We have enough data already. Just format it.”

And with that, all the years Proto spent with the king are wiped clean.

Meanwhile, your party is still embroiled in battle with the alien beasts, never dreaming that such a thing is happening aboard the ship.

Godspeed, Proto.

Another new face. These guys cast a spell that curses anyone in range so they die in three turns. Notably, they can drop a Demon’s Tear otomo, but do people even use Demon’s Chronicles to farm SB still…?

When killed, they lift the curse, though.

Everything else is just standard fare, though.

34-6 That’s no reason to give up on the lives of the people right in front of you.

The crystals from Crystal Road/Roundelay show up to be a gimmick for three-fourths of this stage’s floors. They don’t behave any differently, so chains aren’t blocked.

Here’s Rossi’s Hex in action.

And here’s the team just laughing off a Blizzard.

34-7 Turning around, you and the exiles begin the long trek back.

Word suggested “a close up of a logo” for this image’s alt text. Great.

“The Oxsecian ship’s explosion triggered a curious phenomenon,” says another familiar voice.

It’s Peprope.

“The place you’re located in is someone’s memory.”

“Memory…? What are you saying?”

“The details can wait. But the gateway between there and here will undoubtedly open very soon.”

How can anyone possibly know this?

Many have reportedly come into contact with some sort of memory in similar fashion. Some have already awakened.

“Memory, eh…”

“Perfect. Let’s see the king’s fate through to the end.”

And so you resolve to take on the Oxsecian king. Turning around, you and the exiles begin the long trek back.

So we’re ensuring the timeline is stable. Nifty. Anyway, there’re five battles, all against the icy mooks seen before.

34-8 You’ve declared open rebellion against the king.

By then, we’ve reached civilization (of a sort), so I can swap the team around again.

Now we are the rebels.

Face-to-face with the Oxsecians again. I kind of wish there was something on the pre-battle screen that’d indicate if there was a non-elemental or weaponless enemy.

34-9 “Turned traitor, have you?”

Memorable, I suppose, but not memorable to get a unique sprite or be a boss himself.

Word alt text says, “this is an image containing text.”

gee thanks

I can only imagine how annoying this might be if there were just a bunch of those wild mooks out there to snow on everyone. It’d be rather reminiscent of everything that happened in the first few chapters after crashing on Planet Beastbait, though.

Also, that recruitment was actually just a drop for a Pig’s Amulet. Why not, I guess.

Some of the party cut things close.

34-10 Its name is Prototype Zero.

This is the team I’ll be using. You’ll notice that except for Rikken, everyone is B or A rank. 34-10 can be beaten with a team like this, helped when everyone is pretty much at level 90, equipped with some good otomos (Pahrl, for instance, has the otomo that gives her Terabow).

Of course there’s the fact that I’m bringing two-thirds of the Holy Trinity to this fight. Bahl and S’naip will be the main heavy hitters, and Rikken can dish out a good amount of damage too while acting as my mover.

Pahrl and Korin were brought to help bolster their respective weapon users’ stats, and their Defense +30% skills are one of the many things I used to make sure Bahl and S’naip survive enemy attacks. Sorman is there for healing (taken over Kuscah since he has slightly better defense), has a Regen Cane (A rank otomo, casts Mega Regen, chain) and Rikken has Heal, All to help a little.

34-10 is just a single battle, much like 30-10. It’s essentially the final boss of part 1.5; so let’s pull up the ol’ boss tunes, but the live version for a change.

Music: The World’s Awakening/Day of Reckoning (Live vers.)

Prototype Zero starts the fight with a huge lock-on; ideally you move everyone out the blast radius.

The turn after locking on, he’ll cast Ultima Assault, a non-elemental magical attack. Speaking of magic, he’s more resistant to it; not only is his magical defense stat higher, but he also has Magic Deflector (though I’ve never seen it be used). However, this isn’t a case where a team of mages or to a lesser extent non-crappy spellblades can’t win.

As you can see, I instead opted to do a triple pincer to damage Zero, but more importantly, clear out one of the Oxsecian machines and get some buffs up on the team. I would not recommend doing this normally – but hey, let’s see: how bad can Ultima Assault be?

Ow shit yeah that’s pretty bad

Prototype Zero will cycle through his skills (Breath Attack and Synergy Wave), while also summoning these mooks.

They will, on the turn they’re summoned, use their respective seal ability and severely neuter the physical attack stat of the corresponding weapon-users. It’s not a bad idea to bring a varied team for this reason, or, probably better, a strong mage. Just pincer with anyone who hasn’t been debuffed and work on clearing them out.

When Prototype Zero starts glowing, he’s rearing up to use System Repair. This is the chance to double pincer and get some damage in; hitting hard enough will disrupt him and prevent the healing.

Eventually, he cycles back to telegraphing Ultima Assault.

This was a good chance to kill him.

I missed getting a screencap of him fading away, so I went back and entered the stage again, killing Zero in around ~5 or so turns.

The nifty thing is that you’ll generally (re: 75% chance) get either a Mantle or Deepwater Helix and Metal Minion^ (guaranteed) for clearing this boss.

Also worth noting: 34-10 has a hard mode! To quote the Terra Battle wiki:

Start stage 34.10 during 00:00–00:59 or 12:00–12:59 UTC to access Hard Mode. Compared to the normal 34.10 stage, Hard Mode enemies have 50 more levels, 3 times the HP, and 1.2 times the ATK, DEF, MATK, MDEF. Hard Mode will also give x2 EXP and x4.5 coins. The boss Prototype Zero is guaranteed to drop the Avengers companion after being defeated in Hard Mode.

Avengers is an S class otomo that gives the unit Counterattack. Useful if you want to cover another skill phase to SBing...?

“The loathsome Animata is threatening not only the lives of our kin but the existence of our entire race. We must weather this storm together, for we have only ourselves to rely on.

“Look around you at the fellow countrymen who stand at your side. You are all comrades and equals, chosen to fulfill a common destiny. Social standing, origin, age are all irrelevant. We have all lost too much, and we must all fight to ensure those sacrifices were not suffered in vain.

“We are a chosen elite, supreme specimens of our race, and we are tasked with a common cause:

We must hunt Animata down and annihilate her. We shall have retribution.”

Thus began the long war against Animata. The seeds of that fate were sown here.

A dazzling light blooms in the heavens. Then it is gone, along with the Oxsecian ship.

All those who were locked in combat around the Life Breeder stand stunned and breathless. Humans, lizardfolk, beastfolk, stonefolk, the Oxsecian children with identical faces, even the wild alien creatures – all stand transfixed, gazing up at the empty sky.

“It’s… beautiful.”

As glowing debris from the Oxsecian ship disperses, a warm glimmer illuminates the heavens. It is as bright and unfaltering as the devotion born of a lifelong friendship.

Finally, it’s worth noting that upon clearing this chapter, 54B2 and 36AIS are added to the Pact of Truth/Fate. 54B2 is a Z class sword unit and 36AIS is a SS class healer.

36AIS is unfortunately not that great of a healer compared to the SS class Amis or even Sorman and Kuscah. I really wish she’d been like Amimari/Amina/A’misandra in terms of skills, or that she’d gotten a recode that brought her skills in line with Amina/A’misandra’s recodes, since otherwise all she has going for her is having Heal All and pretty art.

54B2 is a bit better, but by this point he’s not as useful as he might have been upon his release. Sure you could use him, and he’s not the worst unit to have, but why not just use Bahl^ and/or Suoh^? Some might consider him a troll rainbow pull, and considering the rarity of Z class units and how gacha games operate, that’s kind of a concerning thought.

Well... to not end an update being a Debbie Downer like in the past, I’ll conclude this by saying that this brings part 1.5 to a close! Chapter 35 will mark part 2 - and afterwards I’ll have for the most part caught up to where I was when I took a hiatus.

Fun fact: the word doc for this chapter is 73 pages and roughly 2600 words. That’s kind of a personal record, actually. I don’t think anything is going to be topping that besides a 7SU lp update or some of the shit I’ve got planned to play.

#casually terra battling

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