#devil quintuplets

I'm hesitating between Domina and Delisaster

Domina is really interesting, and his whole point and development are really nice

Title take from the song “Animal I Have Become” by Three Days Grace.

I was planning on posting a happier story before this one, but I ended up writing this one first, so have a bit of angst.

(Not Beta read. I wrote most of this in the middle of the night.)

Trio Family Au Masterlist

Summary:

Cyril was standing in a dark hall. The wall and floors were made of stone, and stained with blood. In a throne across from him sat a hooded, faceless effigy, and at its feet lay the bodies of those he most treasured.

WARNINGS: Temporary death, Nightmares, Mild body horror?, possible OOC, Very minor trypophobia?,

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Cyril was standing in a dark hall. The wall and floors were made of stone, and stained with blood. In a throne across from him sat a hooded, faceless effigy, and at its feet lay the bodies of those he most treasured. His breath hitched. It was unmistakeable who the bodies could be. He knew that hair, that visor, those glasses.

Cyril fought to keep his expression neutral. He could not let this thing see his weakness. And yet, he could feel his panic rising inside him. How had this happened? When? Why? The last time he had seem them was before he had retired to his room for the night. They should all be asleep, safe in bed. Asleep, not dead.

The figure lifted a bloodied, clawed hand and reached toward the nearest body. As Cyril’s eyes followed his hand he saw what they were pointing at. Each of his sons had a gaping hole in their chest, right where their hearts should have been.

The more he looked, the more his horror grew. It wasn’t only his sons. Wahlberg’s and Amy where there too. Their bodies lying in pools of their own, red blood.  Wahlberg was almost unrecognizable. Half of his body was crumbled almost to dust, leaving only the decayed flesh of his other side. Amy wasn’t any better off. Her body was marred with hundreds of puncture wounds, almost shredded to pieces.

“What,” Cyril looked straight at the figure, “What do you want? What do you… intend to get out of this?”

The being stood up from its throne, and began to change. Cubes fell away from their form, rearranging before settling into a new form. 

Before him stood a looming shape. It’s lower half was dark and feathered. Black wings and jagged stones protruded from its back, and its chest was pocketed with glowing red eyeballs. 

The most disturbing thing was the figures new face. It was his face, now with two curved horns mounted on its forehead. He could recognize his features. His thigh-length hair and the two unmistakable magic lines, like the hands of a clock, under his left eye. His distorted face grinned back at him, and then, it spoke.

“We want only what is due.” The demon shared his voice too, revolting.

“What is due?” Cyril kept his tone steady. He could feel the dread creeping in the back of his mind.

“Yes, what is due.” The demon spread its arms wide to either side. “Our right to become the Perfect Human Being. Greater than all else in the world! And the world itself too, which belongs only to us.”

“And what do their deaths have to do with it?”

“The boys hearts were essential to our ascent to greatness.” The thing sneered, “As for those two, they were getting in the way.” It lifted its foot and placed it on the remains of Wahlberg’s head. “Their ideas of selflessness made them weak”-It put more pressure on his head-“and we have no use for worthless pawns.”

“Enough,” Cyril snapped, panic seeping into his voice, “You keep mentioning a we. Who else is there except for you?”

The figure stepped back and pointed one clawed hand at Cyril’s chest.

“Why, you, of course.” It declared. Then, the room shifted.

 “Me?” Cyril uttered. The room had refocused, and the figure was gone. 

Things felt wrong he was too tall, and he could feel extra limbs on his back. He looked around him and saw that his hands were clawed and bloody, the bodies of his family were scattered around him.  When he peered into the pools of blood below him, he didn’t see his normal face, he saw a face with dark sclera and two horns extending from his head.

“No,” he whispered in dawning horror.

He could see it now. His own claws that carved out the hearts of his own children. The wounds on Amy and Wahlberg caused by his own Timez spells.

“It’s what you wanted.” His own deep voiced echoed around him. “It is what you deserve.”

Cyril woke with a start. His heart pounded and his lungs heaved. He quickly summons his wand, feeling the slow hum of Timez Unmove blanketing the world in silence.

He sat for a moment collecting thoughts and his breath. It was just a dream, a nightmare. He wasn’t going to let his nerves get to him because of a silly dream. Was he?

“I have to check,” he thought to himself “I need to make sure.”

“ Don’t be ridiculous.” His rational mind chided. “Are you really going to let yourself be worked up by some nightmare? How old are you? Just go back to sleep.”

Eventually his nerves did get to him.

“Time is frozen, no one will know,” he noted before sliding out of bed, and down the hallway. 

He went to Doom first, then Famin, then Epidem, Delisaster, then Domina. He stopped in each room, allowing Unmove to fade for a moment so he could listen to their heartbeats and see their chests move as they breathed. After ensuring all of his sons were safe in their beds, Cyril made his way back down the halls to his room. 

Amy and Cell War were both away, and Amy often worked late in her clinic. Regardless of how his mind still buzzed with worry, he would rather drop dead than let Amy know he called her in the middle of the night over something as trivial as a nightmare. He still had some dignity.

He crept back into his room, shutting the door with a sigh.

“Cyril?”

Cyril froze. Unmove was still active who could…Wahlberg. Right, Wahlberg could bypass his Unmove, couldn’t he.

“Cyril,” Wahlberg asked again, “Are you okay? You got up quite suddenly.”

“You… Saw me leave?” He hissed.

“I did.”

“And you didn’t think to say something when I first woke up?” Cyril could feel his ears flushing. He has been so sure that nobody would know.

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But you saw me. Like…that.” He knew how he must have looked then. Frantic and out of breath. Jolted awake by a stupid dream. He had been weak, vulnerable, and Wahlberg saw him.

Wahlberg smiled gently and patted the bed next to him. “Come sit,” he said, “tell me what happened.”

“I…You..” Eventually Cyril sat down with a humph, crossing his arms and dispelling Unmove.

“So?” 

“It was a nightmare.” He muttered.

“Hm?” Wahlberg leaned closer. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“It was a bad dream!” He could feel his cheeks flushing now too. “A stupid nightmare! It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it was nothing.” Wahlberg reached up and brushed a finger over the tear stains on Cyril’s cheek.

Tear stains, when had he…

“Oh.” Cyril could feel the lump forming in his throat. He could remember Wahlberg’s body from the dream. Half crumbled, head almost crushed by that demon’s might.

But it wasn’t real.

He looked at Wahlberg’s face. It wasn’t decayed, it was soft, warm and alive. Cyril could see the sparkle in his eyes, the faint crinkles, and the dimples that formed when he smiled.

“I’m here, Cyril.”

 He allowed Wahlberg to pull him down onto the bed. Maneuvering him until they were lying face to face among the soft pillows and blankets.

His Wahlberg was still here. His children were here. Whatever twisted timeline that demon had come from wasn’t real. It would never be real. Not here, not with him.

Cyril would never let it happen.

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I said that it was going to be angst, but it devolved into more of a fluff and angst. Whoops.

Btw, the reason Mash isn’t in the dream is because the trio hasn’t met him yet in the timeline. 

If there are any warnings you think should be added/removed please let me know.