Location: Dragonstone
POV: Daemon Blackfyre
Ajuka Beelzebub left without fanfare.
One moment he had been standing there in my home, in my territory, like he had every right to be. Then he was gone.
His power remained.
It clung to the land and to my skin. My body still hadn't fully calmed down. Every muscle in me was strung tight enough to snap.
I stood there in silence, staring at the spot where he had been.
Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
It was sharp and ugly and bitter enough to make my eyes sting.
"House arrest," I muttered.
My land. My little patch of hell. The place I had bled for and nearly died for.
And now one of the four strongest bastards in the Underworld had managed to make me feel small in my own home.
I hated that.
No, hate wasn't a strong enough word.
I loathed it.
The very idea of it sat wrong in my chest, like a curved blade had been shoved between my ribs. Not because Ajuka had been irrational, and not because what he said didn't make sense. That was the worst part. I could see the logic. I could understand the reasoning.
I got it.
Didn't mean I had to like it.
Didn't mean I had to enjoy being told, politely, calmly, almost courteously, that I was not allowed to leave my own land without permission.
Permission.
The word alone made something ugly twist in my chest.
I turned and looked out at Dragonstone.
My castle. My land. Mine.
It stood where it always had, ancient and brooding and black against the purple sky. Dark towers clawed upward like they wanted to tear open the heavens. The forests beyond the walls stirred in the distant wind. The volcanic earth breathed heat through the cracks in the ground like it was alive.
It should have felt like safety.
Instead it felt like a gilded fucking cage.
I barked out another laugh and rubbed a hand down my face.
"Fantastic," I muttered. "That's just fantastic."
A soft, unhappy sound came from behind me.
I froze and looked down.
Balerion sat a few steps away, his little wings twitching uneasily against his sides.
He'd grown since hatching. The awkwardness of a newborn was fading.
He was still small, still young enough to curl up in my lap if he wanted to, but he was starting to look more like what he would become.
His scales were black as wet obsidian, drinking in the light. When he moved, red glimmered faintly beneath them like banked embers under ash.
His tiny horns swept back from his head. Smoke slipped from his nostrils in little irritated puffs.
His red eyes were fixed on me.
I exhaled slowly.
Right. The bond.
I had been so wrapped up in my own head I hadn't even thought about what my mood might be doing to him. Smart. Really fucking smart.
Balerion let out another sound, something between a low whine and a growl, then paced in a tight circle before looking back at me.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I know."
He didn't calm down.
If anything, the sound of my voice seemed to set him off more. His wings flared, the smoke from his nostrils thickened, and he scratched at the floor hard enough to leave marks.
I stared at him for a moment and closed my eyes, trying to reach for the bond between us.
Nothing.
Or maybe not nothing. Maybe just my own anger getting in the way of everything else.
"Shit."
I opened my eyes and crouched slowly, palms open as I moved toward him. "Hey. Easy."
His head snapped toward me. For a second the smoke from his nostrils thickened, and the air around his teeth shimmered with heat.
Then he made a little noise and marched toward me anyway.
He shoved his head against my hand, hard enough that my fingers scraped over his scales.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and rubbed gently along the side of his neck. "There you are."
Balerion rumbled, but it wasn't relaxed. It vibrated with unease. The tiny claws at the ends of his forelimbs flexed against the stone again and again.
The bond between us was more than words could really describe. I couldn't read his mind like some cheap fantasy protagonist, but feeling bled through the link all the same.
Enough to know he was agitated because I was agitated.
Enough to know my anger wasn't just my problem anymore.
Wonderful.
I stood before I could do something stupid like punch the wall like some edgy teenager.
"Come on," I muttered.
Balerion looked up at me.
"We're going on a walk before I do something even dumber."
He chirped once, as if that meant absolutely nothing to him, and trotted after me when I started walking.
A Satan says stay, so I stay.
The thought made my hands curl into fists so tight my knuckles creaked. I knew, intellectually, that he hadn't done it to humiliate me. If he had done it to insult me, then I could have wrapped all this rage around that and used it for something useful.
But he hadn't.
He had done it because from where he stood, with all his power and all his responsibility and all the blood-soaked history of the Underworld behind him, it was the sensible move.
He was protecting the balance. Watching a potential threat. Preventing panic. Buying time.
He was probably right.
I hated him for being probably right.
Balerion bumped his head against the back of my leg.
I stopped and looked down at him.
The little dragon stared up at me with wide red eyes, smoke drifting from his nostrils in thin streams. There was a question in that look. A simple one.
Are we in danger?
The honest answer was yes.
Not just because of Ajuka.
Because if one Satan had seen me as enough of a problem to put a leash on me, then others would too.
Dragonstone wasn't hidden. It wasn't safe. It was mine, but that didn't make it untouchable. It just meant that if anything came for me, it would come here first.
My land. My dragon.
Everything I had clawed together sat on this island.
Everything I cared about was now in the same place an eye like Ajuka's would return to if I gave him a reason.
Balerion made a small sound and pressed closer, the heat of him seeping through my clothes. He felt my mood through the bond, uneasy and restless, but instead of pulling away he stayed there.
That should have comforted me.
Instead it just made the weight of it settle deeper.
I would never be safe.
There was always something bigger. Something older. Something stronger.
But if they were going to watch Dragonstone, then they were going to watch me grow.
I reached down and ran a hand over Balerion's head, slow and careful.
"Yeah," I muttered, more to myself than him. "We're in danger."
His smoke thinned. He leaned into my hand.
I looked out over the black stone and distant trees of Dragonstone and felt my jaw tighten.
"Which means I need to make this place impossible to touch."
[Feat achieved! Congratulations, for meeting Ajuka Beelzebub. +1 Gold Ticket]
What?
I blinked and stared at the message hanging there in front of me.
Because apparently being bullied by one of the four Satans also counted as an achievement now.
[Feat achieved! Congratulations, user, for not dying to Ajuka Beelzebub. +1 Gold Ticket]
"Huh."
That one, annoyingly enough, felt fair.
[Feat achieved! Congratulations, for gaining Ajuka Beelzebub's attention and interest. +1 Gold Ticket]
I stared at the third notification for a second longer, then barked out a short laugh.
Of course.
Of fucking course the system chose now to reward me, right after an existential spiral, like getting put under a Satan's eye was some sort of bonus objective.
"Oh, ohhhhhhh, wait, there's a Gold. Why does it have grades now?"
[Roll Y/N]
I exhaled slowly and rubbed at my face.
"I guess I should roll these."
[The Thing]
|Elite Familiar|
John Carpenter's *The Thing* — An extremely versatile extraterrestrial creature that assimilates itself with other organisms to hide and reproduce. It is capable of shapeshifting the host's body without seemingly causing any damage to it. The Thing is only as smart as the creatures it assimilates.
Oh, it's from the movie.
Not quite sure what I'd use it for.
Wait. No. Maybe?
It would be discreet, but perhaps it could change the body. But would it be morally right? She trusted me with her child. If I were to introduce this creature into its recently dead body as a host... it would be rough, but maybe beneficial.
I might just keep you away for now, little bud.
Might as well roll again.
[HK-47]
|Rare Familiar|
*Star Wars* — "Defiant statement: There is nothing you can do to me." HK is an incredibly experienced and advanced assassin droid, extremely skilled in all forms of combat and all sorts of weapons, as well as combating and assassinating enemies thanks to his brilliant computational mind and engineering. He is also a very skilled mechanic. He comes equipped with standard droid gear, such as a blaster.
Holy shit.
Yes.
Yes.
Yeeesssss.
In a flash of light, one of the most fucking amazing characters to ever exist appeared right in front of me.
The legendary HK-47.
For one perfect second he just stood there, inert and silent, all hard edges and murder-shaped design. Then his eyes flashed orange and his head turned toward me.
"Statement: Salutations, Master Daemon. May we bathe the world in the blood of your enemies?" He looked around. "Query: What would you have me do, Master?"
I blinked.
Oh my God.
Fuck.
I put a hand to my head because he was so cool it physically hurt. "HK, this entire forest is my territory. The castle is my base, alongside a cave system a few miles away from us. Do as you believe is best. Ensure the safety of myself, Balerion, and my familiar Delilah. Our enemies are vast and more powerful than most Force users. I've had a recent encounter with the second most powerful being of this realm. He has confined me to this forest, but he finds me interesting. I'll leave you to your own devices. Learn what you can and feel free to do as you wish."
HK's eyes gleamed in what I could only call excitement. "Exclamation: You have made my day, Master. This is the beginning of a beautiful... what do meatbags call it again... relationship."
Then he started walking away, and I smiled, stroking Balerion's head.
At least I knew I wouldn't be miserable all the time.
I could absolutely see why Revan kept him.
And because apparently my luck had decided to go completely off the rails, I rolled twice more.
What could possibly go wrong?
[Lil' Slaneesh]
|Epic Familiar|
*Warhammer 40k* — What if you took one of the all-powerful Chaos Gods and sent them back down to Level 1? You get Lil' Slaneesh! This shrunken Chaos God is a mistress of debauchery and corruption, specializing in charms, manipulating sensations and minds. Lil' Slaneesh is also very skilled at understanding and corrupting people. She starts off weak for an Epic familiar (roughly Rare in power), but as long as they perform actions that align with their existence, they can slowly level back up. Just don't expect them to reach their original power anytime soon.
[Anathema]
|Legendary Trait|
Your existence is one that opposes the Gods and Divine. You have a massive resistance to any Divine influence or Authorities, and against any Divine opponent, your physical and magical abilities are massively increased.
Ummm.
Well.
Fuck it, we Baal.
I felt another massive increase in my power. It rushed through me so hard it was almost orgasmic, so sharp and overwhelming I couldn't even put it into words.
Then I froze.
A pair of hands settled on my shoulders and began to knead slowly, casually, like they had every right to be there.
I turned my head and locked eyes with the most captivating gaze I'd ever seen.
Then I was in the air.
I jolted up on instinct and spun around so fast I nearly threw myself off balance.
"SLAANESH?"
She just looked at me and smiled, utterly unbothered.
"Hello, Master. You are the most fascinating thing I've ever seen, and you have some beautiful wings."
Wings?
I turned my head and looked down.
I was in the fucking sky.
I twisted harder and saw them stretched from my back, a gorgeous pair of actual angel wings. Bright, elegant, and completely at odds with everything else about my life.
For a second I just stared.
The anger. The tension. Ajuka. Dragonstone. All of it slipped sideways under the sheer absurdity of what I was looking at.
I actually had wings.
I reached back carefully and the feathers shifted toward my hand, soft and smooth and so real that my brain stalled for a second trying to catch up.
"...What the fuck?"
Below me, Balerion stared up with bright, jealous eyes while Slaneesh crouched beside him and began petting him like this was all perfectly normal.
That, somehow, was what finally got me moving again.
I landed a little awkwardly, still staring at the wings as if they might vanish if I blinked too hard. They didn't.
I looked from the wings, to Slaneesh, to Balerion enjoying the attention far too much, and let out a long sigh.
"You don't plan on doing anything that goes against my interests, do you?"
She looked at me, smiling in a soft, dangerous way.
"No," she said simply. "I don't feel like it."
Then she was suddenly right in front of me.
One second there was space between us. The next she was close enough that I could feel the heat of her hands as they rose to my face.
"Has anyone told you that you are beautiful?" she murmured. "Really, you remind me of some of my favourites."
I stepped backward and she followed.
"Are you talking about Fulgrim and Sigvald?"
Her eyes lit up and she poked my nose. "Why yes, I am, little Anathema. It is most interesting to see you know this."
Her eyes darkened and I caught the glow of purple and pink.
"If I were at my full power, I'd bring you to me and make you mine. I'd learn what you know, and you would be my most prized possession."
Then, as quickly as the darkness was there, she smiled.
"But that's boring. Enforced loyalty is dull. I always love a challenge."
I scratched the back of my head, not entirely sure what to say.
I should probably stop rolling now.
I really didn't want to summon another Chaos blight.
I picked Balerion up and motioned for Slaneesh to follow.
And as I started walking toward the cave, Balerion tucked against my side and Slaneesh gliding along beside me like she belonged there, I began filling her in on the world we were in.
"So," I said, rubbing at the back of my neck, "welcome to High School DxD. Which sounds stupid when you say it out loud, but the world itself is actually insane."
Slaneesh folded her hands behind her back and smiled up at me. "I do like insane worlds."
"Yeah, I figured." I stepped over a patch of broken stone and kept moving down the forest path. "The short version is that the Abrahamic stuff is real. God was real. Biblical angels are real. Fallen angels are real. Devils are real. Norse gods are real too. So are a bunch of other pantheons. It's basically a setting where every myth looked at the others and went, yes, unfortunately, you also exist."
Her smile widened. "How delightfully crowded."
"Crowded is one word for it."
The path sloped downward, winding between dark trees and old black stone. Dragonstone's heat bled up through the ground in places, warming the soles of my boots. Balerion chirped once from my arms, then settled again when I scratched under his chin.
"The devils run the Underworld in a weird political system," I went on. "There are the Four Great Satans, the current ones, not the originals. Ajuka Beelzebub, Sirzechs Lucifer, Serafall Leviathan, and Falbium Asmodeus. They're the top of the food chain on the devil side, politically and in raw power."
"Ajuka is the one who put you on your leash," Slaneesh said, almost lazily.
I grimaced. "Yeah. Him."
"How interesting. He felt terribly controlled."
"That's because he is terribly controlled. He's a scientist, a genius, one of the strongest people in the setting, and probably one of the biggest reasons the devil race hasn't blown itself apart again."
"Mmm." She hummed softly. "Useful men are often the most irritating."
I snorted. "That tracks."
We moved deeper through the trees, the cave path opening up more clearly the farther we went. I could already see signs that there had been work here recently. Drag marks in the dirt. Cut timber. Shaped stone set aside in stacks.
"The angels are a little complicated now," I said. "Big G is dead. Long story. The system keeping the Biblical factions stable got damaged because of that, but it's been patched enough that they're all still functioning. Michael runs Heaven now, more or less. The fallen have Azazel." I grimaced again.
Slaneesh glanced at me sidelong, licking her lips. "And where do you fall in all of this, little Anathema?"
I laughed once. "That's the funny part. I don't. I'm not really on any side. Which is why everyone with half a brain and enough power is eventually going to notice me and decide I'm either useful, dangerous, or both."
"Usually both," she said.
"Most likely," I agreed.
She tilted her head, pink and purple glimmering faintly in her eyes. "And the young ones? The ones this world names itself after?"
"Ah." I pointed at her. "See, that's where it gets even dumber. The title comes from a bunch of teenagers in Japan, mostly. One idiot with dragon powers and a harem-shaped destiny, a bunch of absurdly powerful girls, noble houses, reincarnated devils, school politics, supernatural bullshit. That part of the world looks like a porn anime, and then you look slightly left and there's a civilizational power struggle between mythologies."
Slaneesh laughed, soft and delighted. "Oh, I am going to enjoy this place."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
"You wound me."
"No, I'm being realistic."
By then the cave entrance had come into view through the trees, broad and dark in the side of the rocky rise. The area around it had changed since the last time I'd properly looked. Timber supports had been raised near the entrance. Stone had been cleared out. A few rough work tables had been dragged into place. The shape of a proper workshop was starting to emerge from what had once just been a glorified hole in the ground.
Well.
Delilah's version of a glorified hole in the ground.
Slaneesh's gaze slid over the site and then back to me. "This is your workshop?"
"In progress," I said. "Delilah's been building it up. She's got a better head for making things than I do, and with the right setup this place will be useful."
"Useful for what?"
I looked toward the half-finished interior, at the stacked materials and the signs of work already done.
"You might enjoy this, actually. I'd bet you a favour that you would. There is wine the divine would die for. What do you say, Slanny? Want to make a deal with a devil?" I smirked at her.
Slaneesh's smile turned slow and delighted. "A deal with a devil?" she purred. "Oh, little Anathema, now that does sound like fun. Wine fit for the divine, a walk through your growing little kingdom, and temptation offered. You do know how to court my interest."
I snorted and shook my head. "You say that like I'm supposed to feel flattered instead of mildly concerned." I gave her a pointed look. "I know what you are capable of, and never doubt I won't be keeping an eye on you."
Slaneesh went very still for half a heartbeat, then her smile deepened into something warmer, slower, more dangerous. Her eyes brightened, that pink-purple glow sharpening with interest.
"Oh," she breathed, and there was a note in her voice that hadn't been there a second ago. "There it is."
Her gaze dragged over me with open appreciation, like my suspicion had become the most interesting thing in the world.
"A warning. A challenge. And you still offer me wine." She stepped a little closer, clearly far too pleased with herself. "Little Anathema, you really do know how to make things exciting."
I ignored that. "Come on. Let's see what kind of progress Delilah's made."
The cave had a door now.
I stopped just short of it and blinked once, because the last time I'd come down here it had been an open mouth of stone and shadow, a half-claimed wound in the side of the mountain. Now there was a proper set of double doors fitted into the entrance, dark hardwood reinforced with iron bands and carved with creeping patterns that looked halfway between roots and vines.
"...Well," I muttered. "Someone's been busy."
Slaneesh's smile sharpened as she traced the door with her eyes. "Your little wood sprite has some taste."
"Dryad," I corrected automatically.
"Dryad, then."
As I stepped closer, Balerion stirred in my arms. The moment the doors came fully into view, he wriggled free with surprising determination, tiny claws climbing over my chest and shoulder before he perched atop my head like he owned the place.
I snorted. "Really?"
He chirped directly into my ear.
"That's a yes, then."
Balerion leaned forward, little wings twitching, red eyes fixed on the cave entrance with bright, curious intensity. He looked ridiculous and imperious all at once, sitting on my head like some scaly crown.
I reached up and tickled him under the jaw.
He made an indignant little sound, jerked his head back, then immediately pushed into my fingers for more.
"Thought so," I said, grinning despite myself.
Behind me, Slaneesh watched the whole thing with open amusement, head tilted slightly as if she were filing the moment away.
"You are softer than I believed," she murmured.
"He is my child," I said flatly. "This is not the time for character analysis."
"It is exactly the time for character analysis."
I ignored her again and pushed the doors open.
Warm air rolled out to meet us, rich with earth and cut wood and the damp, living scent of growing things. The change inside hit me immediately.
The cave was still a cave, but only technically.
Delilah had gone completely feral with the place.
Roots had been coaxed through cracks in the stone walls and woven into elegant supports. Thick vines curled along the ceiling beams, flowering here and there with pale bioluminescent blossoms that cast the whole chamber in a soft green-gold glow. Timber posts rose clean and smooth where rough cave floor had once been uneven rubble. Stone shelves had been shaped into the walls, lined with jars, tools, neatly stacked materials, and half-finished components. The newly laid hardwood floor gleamed warmly under the strange living light, polished enough to reflect a blurred shadow when I stepped onto it.
The workshop itself was taking shape beyond what I had imagined.
One side had been opened into a proper smithing area, with stone hearths, workbenches, and the beginnings of a forge station. Another had tables laid out for alchemy or enchantment or whatever madness Delilah decided counted as organization. Further in, living roots and flowering vines framed a smaller side chamber like a doorway of its own kind.
I turned slowly, taking it all in.
"Holy shit."
Slaneesh drifted in behind me, her eyes moving from root to beam to blossom with obvious fascination. "This is delightful," she said. "It feels alive."
"It is alive," came a bright, familiar voice from somewhere above us.
Then Delilah was just there.
One moment the workshop had been empty.
The next she stepped out from a curtain of vines near the far wall like the greenery itself had given birth to her. She looked exactly like herself and somehow more than herself at the same time. Her eyes landed on me and lit up so fast it felt like watching dawn happen.
"Master!"
The word came out half laugh, half gasp.
She was on me a second later, all excitement and motion and happiness so pure it hit harder than I expected.
I barely had time to brace before she threw herself into me.
And because apparently I had a weakness for people, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back without thinking.
Delilah went very still.
Then the air around us warmed.
A pale green-gold light flared where my arms were around her, soft at first, then brighter. It spread in a pulse through the roots in the walls and along the vines overhead. Blossoms opened all at once. Leaves rustled with no wind.
[Feat achieved! Congratulations, for making your summon permanent. +1 Silver Ticket]
I blinked.
Delilah gasped.
At me.
She leaned back just enough to stare up at my face, her own eyes impossibly wide. Her hands rose to my chest like she needed to make sure I was real.
"Mother..." she whispered.
I frowned. "What?"
Delilah's breath caught. "You feel like her."
For a second I just stared.
Then the new trait clicked into place in my head hard enough that I nearly laughed.
Gaia's Child.
To me it was just another tool.
To Delilah?
To a being born of nature and tied to the earth itself?
This probably felt like standing in front of a walking miracle.
Her fingers curled in the fabric of my shirt as she looked at me with something raw and reverent. "Not the same," she said softly, almost to herself. "But... close. Warm. Safe. Like spring soil and old roots and rain. Master..."
That did something weird to my chest.
I cleared my throat, suddenly very aware of Slaneesh watching this whole thing like she'd stumbled onto her favourite kind of blasphemy. "Uh. Right. That's new."
"Fascinating," Slaneesh breathed.
I looked over and found her smiling, but not with her usual teasing amusement. This was sharper. Hungrier in a different way. Her eyes flicked between Delilah's glowing expression, the still-pulsing roots in the walls, and me.
Slaneesh's eyes gleamed with fascination. "Not excess," she murmured, studying me like she'd found a puzzle worth savoring. "No... something far more interesting. A child touched by light and darkness both, wrapped up in a beautiful little gift the world hasn't fully unwrapped yet." Her smile deepened. "And now nature looks at you and sees something close to the divine. Oh, Daemon, you really are a charming contradiction."
Before I could answer, Balerion decided he had been patient enough.
With an excited chirp, he launched himself from the top of my head into the air, wings flapping furiously as he made one wildly uneven loop over the workshop.
"Balerion—"
Too late.
Slaneesh had gone still again, clearly plotting something from the way her expression went sly and distant.
Balerion, perhaps sensing mischief on principle, banked hard and came down directly toward her.
He landed on her head.
Not gently.
He hit her like an enthusiastic sack of potatoes.
Slaneesh let out a very undignified noise as her balance disappeared out from under her. Her arms windmilled once, silk and limbs and offended dignity everywhere, and then she went tumbling backward onto the newly placed hardwood floor with a solid thump.
The sound echoed through the workshop.
Silence followed.
Balerion sat on her head, claws lightly hooked in her hair, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
I stared.
Delilah stared.
Then a laugh burst out of me so suddenly and violently I had to put a hand against the nearest workbench to stay upright.
"Oh my God."
Slaneesh lay sprawled across Delilah's polished floor, blinking once in stunned disbelief while Balerion chirped triumphantly from his perch.
Delilah pressed both hands over her mouth, eyes huge.
Then she made the tiniest strangled sound and looked away like she was trying very hard not to laugh in front of her new colleague.
Slaneesh, to her credit, recovered fast.
Very slowly, very carefully, she lifted one hand and peeled Balerion off her head, holding him out at eye level.
The little bugger just blinked at her innocently.
Her eyes narrowed.
Then, somehow, impossibly, she smiled.
"Well," she said silkily, still on the floor, "I suppose I deserved that."
Balerion chirped once, smug as sin.
I laughed again, wiping at my eyes. "That might be the best thing he's done all day."
Slaneesh looked at me from where she still lay on the hardwood, one brow lifting. "Enjoy this while you can, little Anathema."
"Oh, I am." I grinned at her. "Immensely."
Delilah looked between the three of us, then back at me, and finally gave up whatever battle she was fighting and laughed too, bright and breathless and full of life.
Standing there in the middle of the workshop, with a dryad glowing in my arms, a dragon bullying a Chaos blight, and the place finally starting to feel real, I found myself relaxing for the first time since Ajuka had left.
Dragonstone still wasn't safe.
It still wasn't free.
But in that moment, surrounded by my strange collection of misfits, it felt a little less like a cage and a little more like a home.
That was enough for now.