licorice.

❝ don't worry, mother. i'll protect you. ❞ independent roleplay blog for licorice. semi selective. nsfw. mun is of age.

[oedemon-blog]

justsomeshrimp:

“Well, perhaps we can all go some day.” It was a big maybe, and in truth even if they were allowed that one freedom Lobco would never take any of them to her home–only the nearest shore at best. Roc knew that she of course came from the ocean, but she was not going to ever give him any more hints than she already had as to where exactly her home was located.

He was already using Chlomaki and her fellow familiars as a leverage against her, she did not want her parents and Aom to be put in danger either.

His question was not one that Lobco could have ever prepared herself for. That he would even think to ask a question in itself was telling of how much he understood of her situation, and that was upsetting for a multitude of reasons, most prominently because Licorice was but a child. He shouldn’t be able to understand any of this. He should actually be allowed to be a child. How should she answer that? Straight out lying wouldn’t really do much other than show to Licorice she thought he could be fooled. Yet she didn’t want him to worry after her, he already had enough on his plate with his mother.

“Protect me? I’m a familiar, Licorice, remember? I’m the one who is suppose to protect.” And a load of good she was at that, considering she had put her in direct harm’s way by being too stupid to see through Roc’s act.

There really wasn’t anything anyone could do. Roc was a big enough threat on his own, but the risk of Satanick getting involved if anyone attempted to harm his fourth ranked subordinate was much too high. If that happened anyone, and everyone who tried to aid her would die. There was no way around it, and so, Lobco told no one. She wasn’t going to get anyone killed because of her sorry ass.

“As long as my witch is safe, I’m fine too. Please don’t worry about me.”

   The one who’s supposed to protect... Licorice can relate to that. That’s how he views his entire purpose in life. To protect his mother is all he lives for. He’d have no right to exist if he didn’t protect him. Still, no matter how hard he tries, he never seems to be able to change much. Even as he talks with Lobco now, his mother is suffering, and Licorice is here, unable to stop it.

   He can feel the familiar tightness in his chest that warns he’s on the verge of changing forms, and tries to push it aside.

   No matter what Lobco’s answer was, Licorice can’t actually see any way to help her. He pities her, relating her situation with his mother’s, but he has no time or energy to spare for helping her, too. Everything he is, his whole life gets poured into trying to mitigate Ivlis’ suffering. There’s just not enough of him left over for anyone else.

   That doesn’t mean he’s heartless, though. Not yet, anyway.

   ❝ ... I understand,❞ he says, unhappily.

   ❝ I’ll be happy, too, if I can protect Mama. ❞

[oedemon-blog]

egumonto:

A sly grin spread along the right side of his face.  Dokugai’s eyes narrowed a little at the boy in the process, challenging him with a simple look.  His curiosity and intrigue were quite apparent with the way he leaned slightly forward, all the more enthused to be questioned by Licorice.

“Do you always judge a book by it’s cover?”  He asked, after letting out a brief chuckle.

His hands clasped together before looking off to the side, suddenly distant from the child’s piercing gaze.  The action was not out of nervousness.  No.  Dokugai was methodical, careful, and hopeful to demonstrate how considerate he was of the boy’s raised concerns.

“I understand your reasoning to doubt me, though,” he murmured, albeit a tad sadly.  His smile remained but dim by comparison to his previous cheerfulness, though, only a little.  “I certainly don’t spend time with the kindest bunch of people in this world.  And that’s putting things lightly!”

Seemingly a tad shy, Dokugai shifted his weight between his feet.  He glanced down at the marble floor, before sharply looking at Licorice with hope as clear as the night sky in his eyes.

“I want to help you today because I believe it’s the right thing to do,” Dokugai lied said to him.  “You may take it or leave it, Licorice…  I believe the ball is in your court, so to speak.”

   The right thing to do. Why would someone who serves his father care one way or another, what’s right or what’s not? Doesn’t a lack of regard for such things seem like a requirement, to work underneath someone like Satanick? Licorice’s expression is still doubtful, though almost unconsciously, the spear of light he holds begins to dim in intensity. 

   ❝ Why now? ❞ he probes, voice still thick with disbelief. ❝ If you cared about my mother’s situation... ❞

   Slowly, he lowers the hand clutching his conjured weapon.

   ❝ Why would you help now? It’s been this way since before I ever existed. ❞

   And nobody, nobody helped. Though Licorice has a lot of complex feelings regarding the way he was brought into this world, one thing can be said for sure. If Licorice had never been born, there would be nobody in this world who would object to Ivlis’ treatment, much less do anything about it.

   He’s been doing this alone for as long as he can remember. It’s been his only purpose in life, the one thing he can use to justify the fact that he exists.

   He’s silent for a long time, grappling with a strange feeling that’s almost territorial. He’s been the only one who cares for so long that it’s become internalised as part of his identity... but at the same time, being the only one who cares is exhausting. At the same time, the idea of someone to share the burden...

   ❝ ... I... ❞

   It’s too good to be true.

   ❝ I’ve searched everywhere-- Father’s room, his office, the prison cells... ❞

   He still can’t trust it-- but he also can’t turn down the offer.

[oedemon-blog]

Do you and your father ever get along? It seems like he tries his best to make you happy..

   ❝ I can never get along with the likes of him. ❞

   When Licorice was very, very young– think toddler –things were slightly better. He’d let Satanick hold him without kicking or screaming… even smiled at him sometimes. As he grew older, and came to understand exactly what Satanick does to his mother, he’s refused to get along with his father in any capacity.

   ❝ Do you think it matters how he treats me? He’s as cruel to Mother as ever. I won’t forgive that. ❞

   Your mistake was thinking Licorice cares about his own well being at all. As far as he’s concerned, Satanick can treat him however he likes– as long as he stops hurting Ivlis.

[oedemon-blog]

justsomeshrimp:

She’s not overly surprised by Licorice’s description. She’s aware his mother is the flame Devil but still, hearing it said out loud makes it all seem so unpleasant. She would likely not last a minute in a place like that. She wonders if there are any bodies of water–or if it ever rains. How do things grow there? So many questions pop into her mind and she’d like to ask Licorice about them but she wonders if he’d know, being as young as he is.

“…my home is very, very different. It exists in this world, but on the surface where the sun brightens the day. The ocean covers nearly the entire expanse with one single mainland, and a couple scattered islands. I live in the ocean though, not too far down in a kingdom ruled by Princess–a princess.” Lobco didn’t think that Licorice would go on blabbing this information to anyone, but she still fretted about who might be listening at any given time. The last thing she needed was for information that would pinpoint her home’s location to get to Roc. That was the only thing keeping her parents safe.

“It’s very peaceful there. Most people are very kind and our ruler is wise and compassionate and you can find all kinds of different sea creature.”

She really missed it.

❝ I’ve never been to the sea. ❞ There’s very few places Licorice has been, besides his home, and this miserable place. Though he has the power to cross between worlds, he rarely travels anywhere except in pursuit of his parents.

❝ I wonder if Mama would like to go... ❞ He mutters, more to himself than anything else. It sounds safe, and peaceful; a better place than this one, for certain. 

   Of course, the idea of going alone and for his own sake doesn’t occur to him.

   He looks at Lobco for a long moment, the tired, sombre expression of a much older person on his young features. 

❝ Ms. Lobco, ❞ he begins, and then hesitates. ❝ Is there anyone who protects you? ❞

[oedemon-blog]

egumonto:

“My, my…  What a surprise.  Your name is Licorice, correct?”

A small, devilish smirk lights up the plague doctor’s face.  His crooked teeth and beady red eyes shine together in the dim light of the castle hallway, reflecting the radiance emitted from Licorice’s energy spears.

“I’m so glad to have finally made your acquaintance,” he admits, his hands clapping together beside the right side of his face.  Dokugai’s upper body hinges slightly, tilting downward to feign excitable innocence.  “There’s been a lot of talk about you through the grapevine, you know!”

However, his bright demeanor dims as he examines the light spears clutched in Licorice’s fists with a bit more depth.  Instead, the demon appears much more concerned for the young man in front of him.  "Goodness…  Based on that tremendous amount of magical energy flowing through those palms of yours, I assume you’re on the hunt for your mother, hm?“

Dokugai gestures to the boy’s weapons with a curious wave of his right hand.  He frowns at him, giving his company a sympathetic look.

"I would be having the same reaction as you if my dear mother was suddenly gone,” he admits, voice softening.  “It’s alright, though.  Knowing your father, he couldn’t have possibly gone too far.”

Dokugai lets out a light sigh he hadn’t even been aware he was holding in, then shrugs.

“If I may be so bold, would it be fine if I offered my hand and assisted you in your search for him?”

Licorice’s posture is defensive, when the other demon addresses him. Being confronted by one of his father’s subordinates is something that immediately sets him on edge, nowadays. He watches him with undisguised mistrust— anyone who can stoop to serve the likes of his father has already fallen out of Licorice’s favour.

As for what’s being said about him on the grapevine… Licorice would rather not think about that. He suppresses a shiver.

He tightens his grip on the spear of light when the demon draws attention to it, bewildered by the familiar way he’s being spoken to. Is it some kind of trick? Is he trying to lead him off-course, or waste his time? He can't imagine any other reasons for this behaviour.

The offer he makes doesn’t really register, at first. When it does, the expression on Licorice’s face is one of blank shock.

That’s never happened before.

❝… What reason would someone like you have to assist me?❞ Licorice questions. ❝You’re one of my father’s demons.❞

For as long as Licorice has lived, he has been the only person to make an effort to interfere with what happens to his mother. Even among Ivlis’ own demons, he is alone in his efforts. Emalf would rather not think about it, Poemi doesn’t know about it, and Licorice’s older brother likely couldn’t care less.

Licorice is always the only one. Licorice has always been the only one.

❝I’ve no reason to trust you.❞ It doesn't make sense.

[oedemon-blog]

justsomeshrimp:

“I did once, a long time ago. Back then, however, I didn’t realize that this is what they were. I mistook them for a weasel capable of magic.”“ She’s very glad that she had never made a comment to the like back then. The shrimp almost had impressed as she was but what she assumed to be witch or familiar magic but she held her tongue.

She’s glad she has a good filter.

Lobco held out the book to him so that he could peruse it at his leisure.

"There are all kinds of people in this world, I enjoy learning about them but when it seems like you have a good idea of all the species there are, more pop up.

“What about your home, Licorice? What kind of people do you find there?”

❝Everything’s always on fire, and it’s always dark,❞ he says. He doesn’t say it like he thinks it’s a bad thing. He chose his home, and though he doesn’t have exactly the same tolerance for heat a full flame demon would have, he doesn’t mind the warmth. ❝Mostly flame demons live there. Flame bats, flame dogs...❞ Most things find Flame World uncomfortable unless they themselves were made from flame, really. ❝... What about your home?❞ Licorice looks up from his place in the book to meet Lobco's eye. After all, this castle isn’t really Lobco’s home, is it?

[oedemon-blog]

Make your muse angry: Slides a picture of his mother in a compromising position.

He crumples it in his hand.

❝Where did you get this?❞

Licorice calls up a single spear of light, skewering the offending photograph and allowing it to disintegrate into ashes. Sadly, this is not the first time compromising… images… of his mother have been distributed. There will be more to destroy, won’t there?

❝I won’t forgive anyone who holds possession of this filth.❞No need to ask who the distributor was.

[rp-ask-memes-deactivated2026012]

TRY TO MAKE MY MUSE ANGRY.

[shotagiveyoupain-a-blog]

rp-ask-memes:

POKE AT THEM. pester them, dig into their PET PEEVES and use them to your advantage. make my muse SEETHING with rage at yours, push their limits and see how far you can make them go. **NOTE: for some muses, use this with CAUTION.

[oedemon-blog]

justsomeshrimp:

Upon hearing that, Lobco needn’t ask more. One of the things she enjoyed most about spending time with Licorice was hearing him speak about his mother. Seeing his face light up on those occasions was such a treat, and the affection the boy held for his mother was visible from the stars. To hear someone speak so sweetly and lovingly was not something you saw much in this cesspool.

Unfortunately, from the little that Licorice had spoken of it, it was also very obvious that the relationship between his parents was tenuous and outright unhealthy one at best. Though she knew no details, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the exact nature of it. It seemed like everyone in this place liked to keep their little “"pets”“. She would definitely rather Licorice be here than with his parents.

She nods and forces a smile as he enters. At the question, she grabs the book in question and shifts from her seat at the desk to the plush carpet floor and holds the book open so that he can see.

"It’s not a storybook, but it is a good one. It’s about all sorts of different species and magical folk that you can find.”

The page she had been reading was about a species called the Raiju. Most of it was text, but there was a photo to accompany the information. It looked like something akin to a weasel, dark beady eyes, sleek fur, and tiny paws–only the fur was of a blue hue and electricity seemed to dance around it.

“Have you ever seen someone like this?”

Licorice is glad Lobco doesn’t press him for details as he settles down beside her. It’s a sore spot, that he can’t always protect his mother from Satanick. Deep down he knows he can only do as much as his father’s patience allows him to; he’s being humoured.

Preferring not to follow that trail of thought (he’ll switch forms if he gets too worked up), he examines the book and the picture she shows him very carefully, a solemn expression on his young features.

He shakes his head.

❝Never met someone like that.❞

He reaches out and touches the page.

❝Have you?❞

[oedemon-blog]

@cineriot

❝I…❞

He can’t tell if he’s happy or not. It’s not often he gets to hear the words I love you from Ivlis. Hearing it said makes him feel light and warm— but. How is it possible to feel that joy and also the sharp, painful ache in the region of his chest?

This has been confusing right from the start. He shouldn’t have said anything— after all, he remembers where trying to understand these feelings led him last time.

Something must be wrong with him.

❝… Thank you, mother.❞

[oedemon-blog]

justsomeshrimp:

He didn’t chain her up anymore. It wasn’t really necessary after the deal they had struck, one that didn’t leave her with much of an option other than to stick to ‘curfew’ and ‘play nice’. Her life had taken on a distinct pattern of serving Chlomaki during the Pitch World’s equivalent of day (or else enjoying her solitude if her witch had no need for her) and with resignation returning to her prison at night.

It was marginally better than before when she was kept under lock and key all the time when the best thing she had to look forward to was the off chance that Roc would let her free so she could help Meduoco with the housework. She still did sometimes, when she had nothing better to do, despite her apprehension when it came to the gorgon. 

With all that had happened, Lobco was a tired woman in body and spirit, but even as she was she still held on to hope, and there was still one person in this wretched place who brought her a sliver of happiness.

Her antennas and ears perked upon hearing the voice of Licorice, and she lifts her head from the book that she had been studying to see the young peering in.

“Licorice. Hello. Of course, you can.” Roc was due from his job anytime soon, but he knew better than to do anything to harm or make the child unhappy so at the very least Lobco didn’t have to worry about that, but a tiny part of her worried about how the faux cop might treat her in Licorice’s presence. The young boy didn’t need to see any of that, so as much as she enjoyed his company she hoped this wouldn’t be an overly long visit.

“Was there something you needed?”

Licorice’s mouth twists off to one side, as if he’s tasted something bitter. He glances over his shoulder.

❝Mama’s with Papa, right now,❞ he says, as if that explains everything. He lifts his shoulders in a small shrug. ❝Don’t know how long they’ll be.❞

It could even be days. He’s not stuck here, at least— he can return to Flame World any time if he so wishes, but the idea of leaving without his mother is abhorrent to him.

He steps further into the room. The dark circles under Lobco’s eyes could sometimes be mirror to the ones he sees beneath his mother’s. Licorice can’t help but feel sorry for her. He’d like to help, sometimes, but with all of his drive and focus poured into protecting his mother, there isn’t much of him left over for anyone else.

At least he can keep her company.

❝Is it a good book?❞

[oedemon-blog]

shittestdevils:

what if– what if he just fell backwards landing on the ground with a loud tHWUMP! yet not letting go, Licorice was TECHNICALLY down now, that works right…?

Satanick will quite suddenly find that instead of a small child sitting on his chest, it is a fully grown adult. Let him go, or he’ll do worse than poke your eye.

[oedemon-blog]

shittestdevils:

and he whines softly just letting it happen, well and offer him candy to try and make him stop at least    by Fumus his eye hurts now

He’ll take the candy, but he has no intention of stopping until his dad puts him down.

[oedemon-blog]

just staring at the look-a-like and then offers a lollipop

He’s never been one to turn down sweets; he takes it without hesitation. He stares, too.❝…You look like me.❞

[oedemon-blog]

shittestdevils:

hell no, he is just going to pick up the baby boy and cuddle him, love your father child love him, he loves you

He is shouting profanities and trying to poke his dad in the eye. No love for you.

[oedemon-blog]

@justsomeshrimp​

He spends an unfortunate amount of time in this castle. Truly, he would like to never see it or Pitch Black again as long as he lives. As long as his mother’s situation continues, though, it can’t be helped. Licorice interferes wherever he can, but there’s only so much he can do. His father will only humour him for so long.

The castle corridors aren’t safe at the best of times, and particularly not when Licorice is in his true form. There are very few within these walls Licorice has any desire to speak with— stooping to serve Satanick is enough to lower someone in Licorice’s eyes all by itself.

He’s learned, though, that not everyone who resides in this castle is here by choice. He wasn’t surprised, really, not at all.

❝Ms. Lobco,❞ he says, softly, peering around the side of the open door. ❝Can I come in?❞

[shittestdevils-blog]

he is ready 2 welc the fam memburs

[oedemon-blog]

Go away horse’s shit.