#Henchman Purple

[sammy8d257]

All of your aus bring me so much joy but one thing in particular that I keep thinking about is cartoon villain verse... It feels like Purple and one of the color gang (Green?) would occasionally meet up between adventures and have a casual friendship. Heroes sidekick and villains henchman type schtick

Oh definitely!

CV!Purple and the Color Gang actually have a pretty chill relationship between each other

This AU was originally created after AvLoL but before the start of AvM s3, anything that happens after AvM Lucky Blocks isn't canon to the this AU

So Purple and the Color Gang have a friendly rivarly/friendship

The Color Gang doesn't really understand why Purple would want to help Dark but they know Purple's having a good time working for him so they don't try to pry

Likewise, Purple does enjoy hanging out with them, so when things get a little too deadly with the Dark Lord's plans for taking over Alan's desktop, Purple will make sure things stay within reason

I would love to explore the different relationship dynamics between all the characters in this AU

And hopefully in the future, I will!

[roroorecmoo]

[whatswrongwithsweaters]

Do you have any idea what I would have to do to keep a good standing with the hench union?! When you're the foil for planetary heroes you have have to have 3 deep scheduling, and black hole incident coverage for all of them. I'd have to cut staff. No no no, this operation is strictly focused on the Purple Pincer. We deal with ocean and pollution schemes. And as a bonus we have an abundance of crab and lobster from her adventures.

Now if you'll excuse me, I believe Pincer is about to sneak aboard our secret invisible fishing boat. So I simply must get the fog machine ready.

“Yes, but just because I can crack reality open like an egg and reign as a galactic conquerer doesn’t mean that I want to. I want to be the silly nemesis of a street level hero”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Fool Dies

Summary: You are a villain known for telling the future. When a Hero kills your right hand, you’ll let the future burn to get her back.

Hero Cowboy kills your henchman after you’ve already surrendered.

Gunshot silence, the scent of iron heavy in your nose, the crippling cold that floods your chest. All familiar sensations, companions you’ve carried with you since you even became a villain, but this time—

This time it’s…different.

You’re on your knees, the rock salt on the road digging into your kneecaps, with your hands above your head, the ghost of your signature smirk fading fast. The street isn’t empty. There are witnesses. The Hero pulls his punches when there are cameras and citizens and teammates. That’s what your plan says. He pulls his punches.

She asked if you were willing to bet her life on that and you said yes.

Your henchman’s body is stuck in the crumpled side of a car. You see her out of your peripheral, the pale oval of her face unencumbered by the mask you’d lovingly bestowed upon her six years ago. Cowboy backhanded it off of her as she was falling to her knees beside you. There is wet and red and twisted metal dancing foggily around her. The air is harsh and cold to breathe. The world is wavering as tears flood your eyes. You can’t blink them away. If you do, you won’t be able to see her just at the corner of your vision, you won’t be able to watch for a breath you already know won’t come, you’re afraid she’ll disappear—

“Clever to pretend to surrender,” the Hero says. He’s like a swan, spreading his arms out so the leather tassels lining the underside of his sleeves look like wings. He tips his head back so that the news cameras rushing in can catch the strength of his jaw under his wide-brimmed hat. She’d managed to singe it in the fight and the light catches in his blue eyes through the resulting hole. “Was it worth it, Prophetess? Was your attempt on my life worth the life of your sidekick?”

Snow falls, a few flakes here and there. The street is lit like the middle of the day thanks to the news cameras swarming out of the side streets now that the fight is over. The fire is being put out and thick curls of smoke rise from just beyond the gathering crowd of onlookers.

Your spellbook is lying a hundred feet away at the bottom of the lake. That’s why the Hero is flaunting himself in front of the cameras, trying to minimize her death at his hand. He did what he had to do. They were wrong, not him. Unfortunate but expected. The Hero always wins.

She’s gone.

The Fool. She always wanted a different name. But you were adamant she wouldn’t receive one until she earned one outside of her service to you. Until then, her name was a reflection of your journey. Your first step, foolish and unknowing, young and ignorant of the consequences. The name felt right when you called it and you never thought to question why. Only now can you taste your own cruel power in the decision. The power of prophecy spelled her fate out in front of you and, like always, you didn’t listen.

Your tattered cloak ripples in the breeze coming off the water. The vibrant purple is stained with soot and worse, the once smooth velvet charred and eaten away at by the Fire Cowboy’s flames.

They don’t remember that you surrendered before he struck. He’s dismissed your uncharacteristic action as an act, and so the world will too. The Prophetess always lies. Isn’t that the first line in your Hero Force file? The Prophetess has no powers of divination; she lies.

The world is magic. You believe it like the sun, like the earth, like the ocean—

--like her—

--and there is magic even here. The spell of your grief rises over your head like a shroud and, for a moment, you are drowning in the dark as the world heaves. You can taste the last cup of coffee she ever gave you going sour at the back of your mouth, the small daily comfort washing away under the metallic scent of her blood. There is a purple current around your thoughts, painful and biting. You will always be in this moment with her jester’s mask – cruel, you are so cruel – leering up at you, closer to your hands than her. How did you let her get so far out of reach?

Why didn’t you hold her close?

“I asked,” Cowboy says from directly in front of you, “if it was worth it?”

The world pulses back into purple focus. Cowboy is looming over you and the smoke of your battle rises into the night behind him. The media jockeys closer the longer you are silent and they’re inching around the car she’s lying against.

“Tell them to get away from her,” you say. Normal, your voice is so normal. Your arms are burning from holding your hands over your head and your neck aches from forcing yourself not to look. You are afraid your tears will fall if you blink so you stare at the gaudy belt buckle in front of your face. Your eyes are purple in the reflection and your face is as pale as hers. “P-please.”

Cowboy must kill all the time. He has no problem glancing towards the slowly gathering swarm and you can feel his eyes on her body as if they were on your own. “They’re trying to help her.”

“She’s beyond helping,” you say. Why would they even try? You can’t even look at her and you can tell that. “I don’t want anyone touching her.”

“They’re not monsters,” Cowboy says. There’s a scoff and then he’s crouching in front of you. He smells like singed leather. “Not like you.”

You’ve never seen the Hero this close. He’s older than you thought, only a few years shy of your age. His stubble is darkened with soot and his nose bears scars of past battles. His eyes—they’re not blue. You can see the edge of brown behind his contacts, the same deep brown as his mask.

“You killed her,” you say.

“No, you did.” He answers you so quickly it’s like he was waiting for those exact words. He tilts his head so the brim of his hat hides his lips in shadow. “She wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for you.”

He’s so confident that you nearly believe him. Your hands ache with phantom bruises from the blows and the weight of your sin falls onto your shoulders like the sky itself coming to rest there.

--------------.

 You see the trajectory of her life lined in gold. Her first day at your firm, her finding out your identity, her wavering in front of the window overlooking the Charlotte skyline as she admitted to knowing exactly who you are and how you’d been hiding more than your fair share of power all along.

That moment shines. She wasn’t the Fool then. She ripped her pencil skirt up the side as you debated her fate. When you asked her why, she said in case she needed to run.

“You would run from me?” you asked, eyebrow raised, conveying with expression alone how ridiculous you found the idea of her getting away was.

“I would,” she said. She grinned unhappily. “You can kill me, but you’ll break a sweat doing it.”

You laughed and held out your hand. When she took it, the outline of her life changed. No longer edged in gold. All black. A night sky all around her.

“You’re a fool for this,” you told her.

“The biggest one around,” she said, chagrined. Then she laughed with you.

You’ll never hear her laugh again.

----------.

There is a protocol for arresting a villain. Cowboy is already so outside of Hero Force code that it takes a while for things to be ready. He stands over you for the better part of an hour, smiling at the cameras, glaring you into submission, waving to the officers that eventually come to secure the scene.

An ambulance comes to take her body away. Only when they load her into it do you move. You watch the side of the vehicle like you can see through it. Cowboy tenses when it starts to drive away, but you don’t twitch. Her body isn’t her. If you start clinging to it now, you will never let her go.

“I know they call you Cowboy,” a woman drawls, “but you aren’t supposed to act like one.”

The reporters leap out of Strongwoman’s way. Barely five feet, Strongwoman is a super hero. Nobody is willing to get too close, regardless of how good and moral she is. The dark-haired woman is one of the few heroes who don’t wear a mask. No villain is stupid enough to think that makes her weak. Her dark eyes catalogue the scene quickly and efficiently. The ground rumbles as she approaches.

“Heat of battle,” Cowboy dismisses. His shoulders relax with another hero to support him and he shakes out his leather vest. Soot and snow falls from him. “Literally.”

“Hm.” Strongwoman finally turns the weight of her attention towards you. “Where’s her spellbook?”

“Bottom of the lake.”

“She hasn’t tried to summon it?”

“Her minion was in charge of that.”

Strongwoman’s voice whips. “We don’t call them minions.”

“Sorry.”

“You should be,” Strongwoman says. She folds her arms across her chest. She always gives the impression of being wrapped in armor and it takes you a moment to realize she’s wearing a tank top despite the cold. The muscles in her arms twitch. “That’s your third body this year.”

Cowboy hisses, eyes flying over her head towards the reporters. “Don’t—” A coalition of people in dark suits are already herding the media away. Cowboy’s lips thin. “Not in public.”

Strongwoman raises an eyebrow. She reaches down with one hand and hauls you up by the collar of your robes. “Fine. The car then.” She frowns at the way your hands hang by your sides. “You didn’t cuff her?”

“She doesn’t have her spellbook.”

“Protocol, Cow.”

“It’s Cowboy.”

“…”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Strongwoman cuffs your hands behind your back. The familiar sting of power suppressors races up your arms. The last time someone managed to get them on you, the Fool had to break them off once you escaped. You feel her breath against the shell of your ear and her voice whispers, Now who will do it for you?

Her memory is another spell on you. The edges of your life – dark and violently violet – cover your eyes so that you’re blind and deaf to the world around you. Once this new incantation runs its course, you’re sitting in the back of a Hero Force car. The grate between you and the front seat is closed. Beyond it, you can see Strongwoman at the wheel, shoulders vibrating with tension. Cowboy is sitting in the passenger seat like a petulant child.

You read their lips in the rearview mirror.

--review, Strongwoman says. Three. Three deaths on your hands.

This one was just a villain—

Tell that to Foresight. I beg you. See how he likes that excuse.

Cowboy changes tactics. You know the Prophetess is basically an S-Class—

Without her spellbook?

She had it for most of the fight.

Did she?

You lean your head back and close your eyes. Cowboy’s been operating alone for too long. They’ll likely stick him in probation and then transfer him to a hero team with an established leader. Maybe Atlas’ team in San Francisco or Light’s team in LA. Hell, if they really want to punish him, they’ll assign him to Omit’s team in Chicago. The guy’s the most righteous and the most powerless leader out there. Cowboy might actually become a villain if he’s forced to follow that guy’s lead.

“He’ll suffer,” you say in your prophecy voice.

A speaker crackles to life overhead. “No divination,” Cowboy snaps.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” you say.

“Prophetess lies,” Strongwoman says to Cowboy. “Remember, she always lies.”

“It’s still a threat—”

“Prophetess,” Strongwoman says. “Let’s go over next steps. When we get to Charlotte HQ, you’ll be taken to a secure floor where you’ll be asked to remove your mask. It’s important that you understand your identity will remain confidential until your loved ones can be secured—”

“He killed her,” you interrupt. You watch the ceiling of the car. “I can tell you my identity now if you’d like.”

There’s a pause. “That won’t be necessary,” Strongwoman says. Is it just you, or is her voice a little softer? “There is a proper course to this investigation.”

The way she says it makes it sound like she’s promising you something.

It’s like your mind is scrambling for connection to her. There is nothing in what Strongwoman says that reminds you of the Fool. And yet, as the car falls back into weighted silence, one word rings. Proper.

There is a proper way, the Fool whispers. You could fight this spell, but don’t. You sink into the car seat the best you can with your hands behind your back. Hear me out.

Please, you think. By all means.

------.

The first time you ask her to dinner, you’re too hasty. There’s blood on the hem of your robes (possibly a tooth) and the city is still screaming the sirens of your escape. The Fool isn’t shivering like the rest of your henchman; she is standing next to you. Her Jester’s mask is carefully secured with three exact ties despite the haste with which she put it on.

“I can never wear this skirt again,” she says. She is standing on the very edge of the building, the toes of her sensible work shoes a bare inch away from nothing. “This was my best work skirt.”

The city sparks with the purple of your magic, violet vines climbing the buildings and blocking your view of the street below. Your magic is mostly illusion, but all power leaves behind a mark. Where your spell has started to fade remains a charred outline of leaves and flowers against the concrete and stone of the buildings.

While the rest of your minions look a bit like chimney sweeps, the Fool remains untouched. It’s an obvious sign of favoritism; you had room for one other person underneath your cloak and you chose her.

Somehow the memory of her pressed against your side as she used her power to lift you both up to the rooftop makes you blush.

“You don’t have any residue on you,” you say. “You can stitch it up.”

She scoffs. At you. “It’s recognizable, Prophetess.”

It’s really not. The black pencil skirt is the same kind she wore when you first met. How many does she go through? You find yourself smiling at her bare thigh.  Since she first told you she knew who you were, you’ve seen her rip at least three.

“Something amuse you?” she asks. Her voice is short and snappish, the tone she uses when one of the other paralegals aren’t as thorough as they need to be with the briefs. She turns to face you so that the setting sun lights her outline in orange and pink and gold.

“Have dinner with me,” you say.

And for a moment, the hope of her saying yes is as blinding as the sun behind her. Her lips part and you imagine that her eyes widen behind her jester’s mask. A wind picks at the long strands of her hair, sending them fluttering around her like a halo, and you’re standing so close that one brushes your cheek.

“There is a proper way,” she says and then stops. Her right hand twitches at her side. “There is—” is she stuttering? “This isn’t—Prophetess.”

You’re fascinated. She’s always so precise with her words. Even when you threatened her all those months ago she never once floundered like she’s doing now. “Hmm?”

“Hear me out,” she says.

You nod. “Of course.” You lean forward so that you’re only inches away from her. “I’m listening.”

“This…is not the time,” she says. You feel her attention slide to the others and then back to you. She hisses when she finds you even closer. “Prophetess.”

You don’t want to push too hard.

You lean back onto your good leg. “You let me know when it is time,” you say. Your lips quirk. “My little Fool.”

“Oh my god,” she mutters. She turns sharply on her heel. “Get yourself off the roof. I’m going home.”

You watch as she steps off the roof without hesitation. Her telekinetic powers are unique in that they can work on people too. You usually rely on her to get you home.

Maybe you should have asked her afterwards…

You turn to your other minions. Low-level villains without the drive or power to execute their own heists who all owe you the same favor. You raise your brow. “So how are you lot getting me off this roof?”

“You’ve got legs,” the Ace of Swords says.

“I broke my left one,” you say. And, to prove you aren’t lying, you draw away your cape to show that your pant leg is soaked in red.

The Ace of Swords stares. “This is why she said no.”

“Was that what it sounded like to you?” you ask. His surety makes you frown. “For that, you get to carry me down.”

The Ace of Swords groans as the other Swords flee.

-----------.

Your Swords are not always Swords. Sometimes they are Pentacles or Wands or Cups. There’s meaning to the costuming you put your people through, a meaning that escapes Hero Force.

“Where are the others?” Cowboy growls at you over the interrogation table. He keeps aggressively tapping the photos he flung in front of you. Grainy shots of your Wands storming through the Christmas Parade you used as a cover to kidnap the Mayor, blurry screen grabs from security footage of them as Pentacles in the art museum, a delightful brochure featuring them as Cups in a reproduction of Macbeth you used to do some light money laundering. “If you tell us, we might cut you a deal. Six of your people are being prepared for interrogation right now. Want to bet who breaks first?”

The ghost of you smiles behind your dead eyes, leans forward, and sneers in Cowboy’s face. That version of you is delighted by Cowboy mistaking six people for twenty-four and wants to play the interrogation game he’s offering. But the real you feels as heavy as lead and it takes all your strength to watch as Cowboy slowly works his way into a frenzy.

“For too long you’ve been tormenting this city,” he says. He shakes a finger in your face. “I told Headquarters, I said you were a problem when you first showed up in Raleigh. I said, ‘This one is going to come to Charlotte and she’s going to show up with an army.’ I did. I said that and now you’ve got the largest crew in America.”

“Quite the fortune teller, aren’t you?” you murmur. The Fool is at the front of the brochure, all done up as Macbeth. You’d tried to get her to be Lady Macbeth, but she’d insisted she be the main character for once.

You don’t understand Macbeth, you’d said.

His name is the play, she argued.

Lady Macbeth is the mastermind.

Did you read the play?

Did you?

Neither of you had.

Cowboy slams his hand on the table. “Look, Prophetess, I’m the only chance you’ve got at a deal. As soon as those DC heroes get in here, it’s off the table.”

Ha.

“It would be convenient for you if there were no witnesses,” you observe. “More convenient if you get to them before the DC crowd.”

“Witnesses to what?” Cowboy blusters. But he draws back and his gaze is colder than the Hero Force air conditioning that’s already making this room glacial. “To justice?”

How dare he lie to you? Her pale face haunts your peripheral vision. You can see her in the window of the interrogation room.

“To murder,” you say. Your glares clash when you finally look up at him. The soot is still in his stubble and you imagine you can smell her blood coming from his singed leather vest. “She surrendered. We all saw it.”

“She was an A-rank villain with telekinetic powers strong enough to crush my skull,” Cowboy bites back. “I acted in self-defense.”

“With us both on our knees—”

Cowboy whips his arm across the table, scattering the photos of your people into the air. He slams his hand again. “Last chance. Tell me where the rest of your minions are!”

In your holding cells, you stupid—

“You’re a pathetic worm of a man,” you say. You clear your throat. “Sorry. Let me say it in a way you’ll understand.” You adopt your prophecy voice. “The dust Cowboy leaves behind is red, red as the blood on his hands. His golden star is stained—”

You see the blow coming. Not a prophecy, of course.

You just know what heroes do when their buttons are pushed.

-----.

The second time you ask her to dinner, you’re too stupid for her to say yes. It’s not your fault though. How could you have known the Mayor had superpowers? He didn’t do anything besides embezzle taxpayer money!

“Maybe,” she says tightly, dragging your leaden and paralyzed body through the grand halls of the mayoral house, “you could have done a single iota of research instead of sewing all those costumes.”

Feeling is coming back into your hands. They still ache from finishing the elf-themed Wand costumes you’d made for your employees. You think the group costume of Five of Wands came out particularly well. All those little elves holding giant candy cane wands…a perfect symbol for the tumultuous election Season. You flex your fingers and then wince when the Fool’s nails dig into the soft undersides of your arms. “Ouch. Could you—”

“I am not slowing down,” she says. She grunts as she slings you around another corner. “We need to get to the backyard. Ace is meeting us there with the chopper.”

“Such a waste of money,” you bemoan. The chopper had been Two’s idea and all she does is maintain it. She won’t let you fly it until you get your license. “We should’ve got a boat.”

“Great idea,” the Fool snarls. She adjusts her grip so her nails are now digging into your shoulders rather than your arms. “A giant vehicle we have to keep in the harbor. The heroes would never find that.”

“Okay, you have me there,” you say. Your words are crisper now and you can even push a little with your legs as she pulls you into the empty kitchen. “But consider this. I could take you to dinner on a yacht. I can’t take you to dinner on a helicopter.” She stops in her tracks, head whipping down to look at you. Your noses nearly touch. You grin dopily. “Hi.”

“Are you asking me to dinner right now,” she asks in a tone that tells you you’d better be careful with your answer.

She’s so pretty. That’s why you aren’t careful when you slur, “Yes.”

She drags you through the doorway into the backyard. “I sure hope it’s the drugs making you this stupid.”

“Hey—”

“Hey!”

Both of you look back towards the house to where the Mayor has just appeared. He’s wearing the smoking jacket he’d monologued in and the handkerchief he’d used to drug you is hanging limply in his grip.

He points at you. “You. You should be unconscious! Nobody escapes my venom!”

“Oh gross,” the Fool says. “Does he make the sedatives from his body?”

“From his sweat,” you affirm. Then, raising your voice over the growing sound of the chopper and her gagging, “Maybe you should sweat better drugs, huh?”

The Fool coughs and wheezes. You recognize a laugh in the sound. “Don’t antagonize—”

The Mayor bellows and sweat begins to drip from his forehead. He mops at it with his handkerchief and then advances across the grass. “Get back here!”

“Hahaha,” you say, “He was definitely a hero. I know how to push their buttons.”

It becomes a race to who gets to you first; the chopper or the Mayor.

As usual, the Fool wins.

-----.

Cowboy isn’t allowed in your room after hitting you in the face. You can feel him lurking in the hall outside when Strongwoman takes the seat across from you.

“That…wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. She’s sitting on a special crate they brought in for her. It creaks when she leans forward. “Are you sure you don’t need medical attention?”

The Fool is the only one you let tend to your wounds. Blood stings your eye. Cowboy was wearing his rings when he hit you. “I’m fine.”

Strongwoman sighs through her nose. She’s short and stocky, dark hair and wide nose. There’s a beauty to her when she’s still and quiet. When she moves? She moves like a threat. “We need to know where your base is,” she says.

“Home is where the heart is,” you say. And you killed mine.

Strongwoman’s lips thin. “Look, if you want the guys who speak riddles, we can wait for them. Or you can answer my questions and maybe we can come to some sort of understanding.”

“Interesting offer.” You lean back and contemplate her. “You have my spell book.”

“Except that,” Strongwoman says immediately. She winces. “Sorry. You’re in custody. The spell book isn’t even on-site anymore.”

“Then you can take these off,” you say, nodding to your cuffs. Their faint glow is making you sick. “As a sign of good faith.”

“Tell me everything about your operation,” Strongwoman retorts. She shakes her head. “Nobody believes you’re harmless without your spellbook.”

“Cowboy does.”

“Cowboy is operating under a lot of false assumptions,” Strongwoman says. She leans forward to match you. “Like the one where you have over 30 lower-level villains working for you.”

“Oh?”

“We have six,” Strongwoman says. “Tell me where the rest are and we can negotiate.”

Ha. She doesn’t know either. You are so good at costuming. It’s not like your henchmen can multiply. There are always just six with you and it’s through your costumes that they transform. You’ll have to tell the Fool—

Your mood sours. Tell the Fool. Who’s the Fool now? You’re not in the mood to play games. “I tell you everything, you let me talk to those you have.”

“No—”

“I don’t know everything about them,” you snap. “You’re asking me to betray my people. Fine, I’ll do that. You lot will pry and pull and claw until you find out anyway. But allow me to give them the chance to tell you about whatever family or loved one they haven’t told me about. If I must take them down with me, at least let them beg Hero Force for leniency for their loved ones.”

Strongwoman considers you. “And what do you want in exchange?”

“Let,” you clear your throat. Your eyes are hot and itchy. “Let me have a moment with them. To mourn one of our own passing. To—” you clear your throat “-to lay the Fool to rest.”

The silence sticks to the walls and builds. It presses into you on all sides until you feel like you’re in a coffin. You once told her you would die with her.

Not allowed, ma’am. I don’t think we’d go to the same place.

You swallow hard and stare at your hands.

“Deal,” Strongwoman says finally.

“Thank you,” you say. Your head bows until your forehead presses against your shaking hands. “Thank you.”

“Cuffs will stay on,” Strongwoman says gruffly. She pulls out a pen and pad. The pen looks like it’s made of metal. “Start talking.”

You do.

-----------------.

The third time you ask her to dinner, she stares at you for a long time. It makes you nervous in a way you haven’t been before, her unrelenting stare. Is it because she’s usually so quick? Or could it be because you can feel her eyes on your bare face for the first time since she stood in your office and called you a villain?

The same office you’re currently standing in now as the sun sets behind her?

“I have concerns,” she says at last.

Oh thank god. You’re smiling too widely. “I can work with concerns.”

“Can you?” Her eyes flash gold with the sun. “You keep asking me out while we’re working,” she says.

You blink. “Do I?”

“You do.”

You consider her words, leaning back against your desk. You’re wearing your pinstriped suit today and it’s getting a little tight. She feeds you before and after every meeting you have and you have a lot of meetings. “I’m always working.”

“That’s true,” she says. She turns on her heel. “And that’s the concern.”

You stand up. “Wait, how is that—”

She stops at the door and turns to look at you in a way that steals your breath. “I am not work,” she says. Her lip twitches. “Nor am I a fool.”

“I know, you’re—”

“Ace says they’re already at the meeting place. According to your schedule, we’re running late.”

“We haven’t finished talking.” You try to sound firm, like you used to. Instead, the words come out as almost a plea. “We can be late.”

“You’re never late. Besides, I hear it’s going to be a regular rodeo.”

“Cowboy? Ha! When did he blow back into town?”

“His probation period is up.”

“Lucky us.”

-----.

Lucky us.

You Fool.

--------.

You look over the bowed heads of your employees. Ace, Two, Five, Eight, Ten, and Page. The room Strongwoman led you to looks like the cockpit of a spaceship. Noxious blue light undulates up the concave walls. There are no chairs in here, no pulpit for you to stand behind.

So your employees kneel when you walk between them all to stand in the very center.

“Prophetess,” Ace says. Her voice is thin and high. “We—I’m so sorry.”

Two looks up. Her face is drawn and there’s a deep bruise along the side of it. “We know how it is to lose.”

“You do,” you murmur. You’re aware of the eyes on you here. You saw Cowboy sneering in the observation room on the other side of this one. There are cameras scattered like black stars across the ceiling. “I know you do. But there is a renewal in Death. If—” you swallow hard “-if you allow it.”

You expect fear. What you’re asking of them has happened exactly six times. The favor they owe is not only to you, but to each other. Death is the complete annihilation of everything you know. It can be the end. Or it can be the beginning.

But it takes people to begin.

And you have asked them too many times before.

“Anything,” they say as one.

Your head shoots up. “What?”

Six of your employees – your friends – return your gaze unflinching.

“If I have to redo everything again, I will,” Ace says. She presses a hand over her heart. You know a picture of her son lies there. “Time doesn’t matter. We won’t lose anything but time.”

“We know we can rebuild,” Two says. Her eyes are fierce. “We can do it better.”

“You taught us how to do it better,” Five says.

“I thought you would’ve already done it,” Page says. He scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t eat lunch thinking you woulda done it by now.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Eight tells him. Then, to you, “You did it for us. Again and again and again—”

“—and again and again and again—”

Eight punches Page. “Shut up.” She breathes in through her nose. “Prophetess. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“The memories you have made will only remain with you,” you remind them. Your hands are shaking. This—you have asked this favor for the sake of others. Did they feel this vulnerable asking? So hopeful and so full of dread. “It will be different. Time changes all and you who have experienced it—”

“—will be like fortune tellers in a strange new land,” Ace says. “We know.”

“We’re okay with it.”

“Are you?”

The time is approaching. You can hear voices outside the room. Ten minutes. She’d promised you thirty, but you figured they’d interrupt sooner. Especially considering what you’re saying.

You breathe in deeply through your nose. You think of her pencil skirt and her flashing eyes and her warm smile. The ghost of her pale face is fading into blackness as this curtain closes.

Your resolve firms. It was a bad ending. As a villain, you’re allowed to rewrite those.

“Tonight,” you say in your whispering voice, “we rebalance the deck.”

The blue in the room flickers. The voices in the corridor gain urgency. The cuffs around your wrist flare and then go dormant.

“I see my son a babe again,” Ace sings. Her eyes burn with your purple power as she brings her hands up towards you. The memory of the favor you granted her rises with her words. “I hold his hand.”

The blue flickers purple and electricity arcs. The Hero Force suppressors are to stop superpowers.

There is very little they can do against fate.

“I see the bus that takes them away,” Page says. He doesn’t sing. His voice is as dry as the desert and he salutes you. His hand glows against his temple. “They get on it.”

“I see my friend at the crossroads,” Two says. She holds her hands palm up and tilts her head to the sky. Tears of neon violet fall down her face. “I follow them.”

“The power I have falls into my hands like rain,” Eight says. She cups her hands in front of her and they fill with your power until it spills over onto the ground. “I drink from it.”

“The harm I caused erased,” Five says. He crosses his arms over his chest and bows his head. A halo the color of lilac blooms over his head. “I atone.”

“I do better,” Ten says simply.  They stand with their hands by their sides. Their eyes burn with your power and they do not flinch. “I don’t bury them.”

Your power crawls along the walls. There are no more blue arcs of power. There are purple flowers and thorns that leave shadows in their wake. They seal the door shut and you are distantly aware that Strongwoman is trying to smash her way inside and can’t.

Fate takes a different type of strength to overpower.

“I see her again,” you say. The tides of the world pull at your long hair. You are drowning in light. The ground shakes under your feet. You think of her life outlined in gold, yourself outlined in gold. Is it possible you can see it glittering there in the unrelenting ocean flooding into you? “I see her again.”

Thunder crashes and everything becomes nothing.

-----------.

You are at your desk. You blink at the pages lying before you. A brief. A case. From four years ago.

You release a trembling breath. You never doubted it would work but it’s a relief to see not so much time has passed. Ace will still share some memories with her son. Page will not have to sit by his brothers’ bedsides again. Ten won’t be trapped in her father’s house.

The rest…the rest will not expect your help. You didn’t help them the last three times. Cruel, maybe. Fate often is.

You think Two is in Charlotte at this point. She mentioned something about a halfway house…

You freeze grabbing your coat as familiar footsteps echo from the hall outside your door. The skyline is twinkling with city lights, but it’s nearly midnight. Nobody should be here, you don’t remember anyone being here at this time—

The door opens without a knock. Her hair is chopped beneath her ears and she has a lip piercing and there isn’t a pencil skirt to be found. But it’s her. It’s her.

“Anika,” you breathe.

Her gold eyes flick to you, to your desk, to your coat in your hand. “You working?”

“N-no,” you say. Your words pile up behind your teeth. Do you remember? Of course you do, otherwise how would you be here. But how? Did I infect you? Did the outline of my life really drag you into my power enough--

Anika waits. When you continue to stare at her, she prods, “I’m not your paralegal.”

“You don’t look like you’ve even finished your degree,” you blurt out. You point. “A lip piercing?”

Anika rubs her piercing. “I’m not the Fool,” Anika says patiently.

A light bulb goes off. “Oh,” you say. “Oh!” You get down on one knee. “Anika, will you marry me—” Anika throws her purse at you. It misses by about three feet. You stand and try again. “I mean, will you go to dinner with me?”

“Yes, I’ll go to dinner with you.” Anika rubs a hand over her face. “Everytime I give you an inch, you take a mile—"

“For the rest of our lives,” you promise.

Anika shakes a finger at you. “Dinner.”

“It’s a beginning,” you say cheerfully.

The best one you’ve ever had.

-------.

Thanks for reading! I do love my supervillain stories and appreciate you for making it through this one! Sometimes I wonder if I can even write flash fiction anymore haha

Next week's story is already up on my Patreon (X)! I'm super excited to share it as it made me laugh writing it. It's an AITA style post from a woman who used to be a Cryptid professionally and feels like she's made a misstep with her Slasher boyfriend.

See y'all next time!

[sapphirebluebird]

I do think it's high time to rave about OKAGE: Shadow King on here...

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

Being stuck in a strange book was not what you expected, now you had to worry about your fellow Ramshackle doormates!  You hoped they would be fine, without Yuu or you. You glanced at Yuu and Grim, the two students happily looking over the strange pumpkin patch.

You look away only for a moment, hoping to see what was over the garden wall. Instead what caught your interest was the odd scarecrow hidden in the shadows. Raising a brow, you walk closer, hoping the moonlight would shine on the object.

“(Y/N)! Look at this one!”

You pause, you turn attention back on Grim as you see the little furball try to pick it up. 

You sigh, feeling the wind play with ends of your clothes, about to walk over to the two. An idea forms in your mind!

Kneeling down, you notice the scarecrow seemed much closer than before. Gently picking up the smallest fruit, the unmoving straw body was MUCH closer now!

You tilt your head, eyes shining with curiosity. You notice the sign above its head, “Halloween… Town.”

Reading aloud, you turn away, a sweet laugh leaving you, flustered as you hold the autumn fruit closer. “I… Hope you don’t mind.” You say to the scarecrow, “I promise to return it.”

Turning away, you carefully walk through the pumpkin patch towards your companions. Letting out a cough to grab their attention, you hold the pumpkin as if it were a skull.

“To be.. Or Not! To be.. Such is the question..!” You quote, expecting a laugh. Instead, Grim frowns in confusion. “To be what? A pumpkin?” He questions.

“No. It’s Shaksphere? Yuu, please tell me you know!” The Prefect shrugs, tapping their chin thoughtfully. “It sounds familiar…”

Going back to the scarecrow, you lean up against the wooden pool. Fluttering your lashes dreamily, letting out an over-dramatic sigh, “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.” You state, raising the object close to your lips, as they pucker.

Yuu huffs, about to retrieve the fruit as Grim lays on their shoulder.

“I still don’t get it! But whoever this shake-ysphera guy is, sure is dramatic.”

“Well, that line was Juliets… From Romeo and Juliet…” You murmur as you chuckle at Yuu snatching the pumpkin away, placing it next to its brethren on the soil. “Rome and Jule?”

“No… Okay let me explain.”

Heading to the other side of the scarecrow, you say another quote. “A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows. Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.” 

“Hmm… Henchman, do you get it?” Grim questions the other magicless human. They nodded thoughtfully, the wind tussling their hair.

“Kinda like... Christmas and Halloween, two opposites and can’t collide.” Yuu states proudly like they figured out the code!

“Oh so like that made-up holiday you created during winter!” Grim states, pointing a paw at you.

“IT’S NOT-How is that even-?” You groan, moving away from the protector of the patch. You try to explain, or direct the conversation elsewhere.

A glove-like hand grasps your own, as an unfamiliar laugh rings behind you, Yuu and Grim gape in fear while you  freeze. A young man with a grin steps into your view, his grip like a spider's web, strong yet delicate when holding your palm. 

“I greet you with a kiss, for this wonderful encounter..~!” 

-

“Gino! What am I to do with these!?” Foulworth asks his companion, holding the box of decorations in worry. “(Y/N) and Yuu instructed us before, but this not as simple as I hoped.”

The fox-beastman grumbled, poking at a strange velvet hat with a cotton ball placed on top. Mixed in with the other Halloween items placed inside the brown box.

Rollo scoffed from his seat, hiding his sour words into his silken handkerchief. Watching the two fumble with green and purple tinsel as the ghosts aid them.

-

[Ya’ll, I’m head over heels for mister Skele-boi over hear. He’s voiced by one of my all-time va’s. So I’m just in awe! I’ve been squealing all day about him! I might, possibly write for this event if anyone is interested. Let me know!]

[lerokpaw]

🐉Dragon grass 🐉

You lit incense, but you didn't even think what it would lead to

!!!nsfw !!! !!! 18+ !!!

! All characters 18+!

Female reader

Sorry english don't my first language. But I hope you enjoy it 🐉

Status : Couple Y/N - Perfect (The head of a dilapidated dormitory)

A small heat source in the form of a green firefly lit the way for one of the most mysterious people in Twisted Wonderland or for you Tsunagotaro/Mal Mal/Malleus. His task at the moment was to see your face, or rather a smile on it. But first of all, to invite you on a little evening date. You and the future king of the Valley of Thorns have been dating for about six months and one of his favorite pleasures was to see you in a good mood, and if his favorite combo in the form of you, gargoyles, your love and beautiful art, which he saw in all of the above, were collected in one place and at one time, then Malleus was literally melting with love. And in the sky you could see how the stars were shining brighter. Wandering in his thoughts, the Dragon discovered that he nuzzled your door, while accidentally touching the bell with his horn, and he notified the resident of the Dilapidated dormitory of his majesty's presence. Hearing rapid footsteps on the stairs, the so-called Tsunagotaro moved away from the door and waited for your face to appear in its crack.

-Hello, Mal Mal! -"Greetings, my dear," horned smiled with his trademark gentle smile.

-Oh, listen - She slightly covered the already small gap as if to show that he does not have to see what is behind it. But now Malleus' interest has only grown.

-Yes, honey?

-I understand that you probably came for me on a date, but I'm a little unprepared… And could we sit here in the dorm today?

-I dare not refuse my dear couple this request, - he bowed familiarly You laughed a little

-Then come on in, I'm sorry, I'm a little at home.. I'm going to run to the kitchen for ice cream and return it, go to my room for now.

-Ice cream? Won't you need any help? - he already imagined how his favorite dish would be on his tongue.

-It's not worth it! Come into the room! - I was already shouting from the kitchen. The old wooden floorboards and stairs creaked under your boyfriend's feet. He was slowly moving deeper into the dorm when he felt a pleasant and sweet smell in his nose. Approaching your room, he realized that this fragrance was coming from there. When he entered, he saw Grim, who also exchanged a glance, but no longer friendly

-"Henchman, you brought that Tsunagotaro again without my knowledge! Malleus just narrowed his eyes and smiled at the furry creature.

-Don't go make-up, please, if something doesn't suit you, then go downstairs - she shouted through the whole dorm

-I'll actually go to the Adeuce duo then! At that moment, the monster ran out the door and pointedly slammed it -Sorry, Small, for this performance - she said calmly as she approached the room

-It's okay, I understand, my dear

-Your ice cream

-Thank you very much

Sit on the bed Have you started noticing how your boyfriend's pale face is starting to turn purple?

-Honey, are you hot?

-what? Oh, I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what's going on.. Am I just not used to it?

-Hmm, do you have an allergy to herbs?

-As far as I know, no, why? - now he was interested in what was happening to his body.

-Well, I just lit incense.. And I thought maybe they made you feel bad.

he approached you slowly and carefully, trying not to scare you off

- Can I smell you? -N-an unexpected offer- you blushed slightly - but I don't mind - you pushed the hair that was lying on your neck to the side, as if trying to tie it into a bunch

-Thank you - Mal said almost in a whisper and approached your neck inhaling the armat and now his previous sensations have doubled. As if waking up, he jumped back.

-I just don't know… It seems to me… - after these words, he attacked you with a sensual kiss. You've kissed before, but this… It was something that foreshadowed something more. After you stopped getting enough air.

-As if I want all of you - finally the thought was complete.

-What!? I'm sorry!? He abruptly leaned back from you

-Oh, I'm sorry.. I just.. I don't know what came over me Malleus rubbed the back of his head confused

-No! It's not that I'm against ours.. Continuations.. You started gesturing actively

-It's just me.. I didn't expect you to. Similar actions

-Hmm really? Malleus said, approaching you with a slightly mischievous smile and half-open eyes.

-Y-Yes! I am.. Sorry. I'm a little nervous.

-Maybe then you're not ready? I'll understand.. I won't insist - he gently took your hand and kissed it gently

-I didn't say that! It's just… this.. Nervous

-Are you afraid of me? -No! I love you very much! And as you can see, when you're so close to me, I don't push you away. Because I'm not afraid..

-Then I'll try to be gentle... Malleus smiled at you tenderly and ran his hand over your cheek You're blushing

- You always know how to embarrass me. Tsunagotaro gently ran his hand down your neck and ran his fingers a little over the top of your pajamas. He pressed his nose against your shoulder and inhaled the fragrance, his pupils sharply narrowed

-Darling? - He said in a slightly trembling voice

-What is it?

-Are you sure you agree to what happens next? I won't be able to restrain myself..

-Yes.. Just be gentle to start with You felt his smile appearing on your skin. It was important for him to hear the permission from your mouth. Now small spikes and a tail began to show on his back. Although it wasn't visible through his clothes yet

-Good...- he slowly began to take off your shirt. After he took it off, he said

-Darling.. I didn't think your kind had such cute gadgets..

He pointed to his chest and gently kneaded it with his hands

-Tell me if it hurts you. even in his lust-intoxicated state, he tried to take care of you. -M?!

She turned her head away, blushing

-Except yours.. Is there no view of them?

-There is, but I never paid attention to it…

He leaned against the chest area with a languid look and began to kiss her slowly and sensually.

-Mm.. The taste is as incredible as the smell ~

After his words, you whimpered softly while he kissed you and smiled, and his hands slowly made their way to the area below your stomach. Now Malleus was slowly sliding towards your stomach and was already kissing you there.

-Mm~ My rose.. Will you let me go on?

-Yes.. Oh sure The horned fairy grinned and his hands pulled the elastic of your night pants a little, gently pulling them off you. After that, your underwear became his barrier to your wonderful taste, he puffed up a little from this fact. But he continued to slowly spend his hands removing this obstacle, while feeling like you were already wet. Pushing your legs apart a little, the scent of your arousal hit him right in the nose and the smell of incense gave him even more strength to continue.

-It really looks like rose petals.. - he said, spreading your vulva

-Mm!? Where.. How? Where did you find this comparison? - She said, looking at him with one raised eyebrow

-Well.. He massaged it a little with his fingers and looked down intently.

-It's a little awkward..

-What could be more embarrassing than my position in front of you?

-Hehe, you're a darling.. Once.. When I was younger, I became interested in the topic.. Mating. And I asked Lilia what it was like.. Well, he told me that "everything is so beautiful for women that I look like rose petals" Frankly, I did not believe him, and I did not quite understand what he was talking about. But now that I see it all in person.. His words make sense

-Well, that's an interesting comparison..

-Do you think so?~ - he said in a seductive tone when his face was between your legs, where he slowly ran his tongue between the folds -Mh!? - you jumped a little out of surprise, thereby hitting him a little in the nose with your hips

-Honey, calm down.. Otherwise, I'll go crazy before I give us pleasure~ I'm already holding on with all my strength so as not to eat you.. That smell.. Intoxicating~ - Malleus tightened his grip on your legs, scratching them a little with his claws, starting to run his tongue up and down.

-Mmm~

-That's what I wanted to hear, my rose ~ -

He mimicked the movements of his tongue in your petals. Quickly finding the middle, he rushed there. Each time, his movements became more violent, as he quickly began to lose his composure. Listening to your moans, he couldn't hold back his own mooing, thereby sending you impulses that didn't help you not melt in his grip.

-Ah! - From his accidental sharp thrust, you moaned and mechanically moved your hands to his horns. With these actions, you finally pulled the trigger from the dragon, who was now furiously beating his tongue at you and your petals

Driving in like that for a couple more minutes, you felt a wave of pleasure begin to catch up with you. Malleus felt your back begin to arch and your legs to shake.

-Mm~ Have you already?

-Don't talk.. Ah! Go on..

-Hehe - you felt his smile tremble in you

-Mmm~Ah! - when he hit you with his tongue the last time, you sprayed him in the face, squeezing between his legs. The dragon rose slowly, carefully releasing your legs. His eyes were sparkling with a green light, and his whole face was in your netar. He licked his face and approached your already breathless face.

-Malleus.. phew..

-Yes, my rose ~ before you say it, I want to say that you are magnificent both in taste and aroma, as befits a flower ~

-You.. The dragon is too greedy..

-Naturally ~ - he gently tucked your hair behind your ear.

-Phew..

-Are you ready to continue? ~ - Malleus is clearly pissed off after your taste

-WHAT!? We just did..

-Hehe, this is just the beginning, I want to feel your nectar not only on my lips ~

-You.. You're vulgar! - you got up and hit him with a pillow

Ahaha, darling, but you like it ~ He stopped you by grabbing your hand - And since you're already so active, I can continue~

The incense finally burned out.. But the smell of "Dragon Grass" has long filled the whole room..

[sandbees]

Yuu creates a crime scene with the Grimace shake to freak out the First Years, who were coming over for a sleepover. They get Grim and the ghosts in on it, too.

⚠️Another attempt at writing conventional horror, be warned!

So, when the First Years walk in, they see that the lobby is “destroyed” with Yuu hanging by the foot upside down, their mouth dripping with some sort of purple liquid. (Keep in mind, it’s late at night, so the First Years can’t see well.

Within the kitchen, is Grim “drowning” in the sink filled with purple liquid. It’s overflowing. Everything is bathed in this weird purple liquid.

Ace kneels down to taste it.

Epel: What the FUCK is wrong with you?! You’re gonna die!

Jack: Holy shit. Holy shit, oh my Sevens, what the fuck, Ace.

Deuce, panicking: So, what is it?!

Ace: It’s…it tastes like a milkshake? This stuff tastes good, actually.

Sebek: …Ace, walk towards us very slowly.

Ace: ???

Like a dumbass, Ace turns around.

There’s this large purple blob behind him, dripping in that “liquid”.

Epel: RUN!!!!

The First years starts running, completely unaware that Yuu is missing from the lobby. They’re forced to run upstairs, as the purple blob stops chasing them once they come to the second floor.

It’s worse, actually. The entire hallway was covered in the purple shake. There was only one door open, with a dim light leaking from the crack.

Jack: We should go back.

Ace: NO? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Sebek: And run into the monster?! Do you have a DEATH WISH?!

Deuce: I just want to get out of here…what happened here??

Epel: Fuck it, it’s either the room or the monster downstairs. I’m taking my chances.

They walk in. The room is lit with candles. There’s Yuu, purple drag marks. They’re laid on the center of the room, a cirlce of candles around them.

The words, “Happy Birthday Grimace” is written on the walls.

Jack hesitantly steps forward, calling Yuu’s name. Suddenly, Yuu jerks up, causing Ace to scream. They open their mouth, the purple shake spilling from their mouth. All they say is a bunch of garbled nonsense, more of the shake spilling from their mouth.

Someone faints, and it’s a wonder who does. Then, the lights turn on and the Ramshackle residents laughing their asses off at the First Years.

Epel: *Starts beating the shit out of Yuu* WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?? I HATE YOU SO MUCH!

Sebek: Stupid human!!! Did you know how worried we were!?

Jack: Where did you even get this idea?!

Grim: My henchman had this trend about some monster thing-

Yuu: Taste bud!

Grim: Whatever, but people were trying it and then “died”.

Deuce: All of this for a sick joke?! That’s messed up!

Ace:

Ace: Can we prank Heartslybul next?

[pandoa]

the henchman: a grimmer tale

where another overblot strikes night raven college, and the prefect is prepared to face the dark magic alongside both grim and their friends to save the day yet again. but... where was grim to begin with?

part two/prologue to this fic in grim's pov !! can be read separately grim x platonic!gender neutral reader

warnings: angst ~based off of the theory that grim eventually overblot and mc will be forced to fight him~

“Grim?” You called out into the empty hallways of your school, searching for your cat-like friend among the deserted classrooms of Night Raven. Through the windows of the college, you sensed that another event of chaos was brewing from the way the sky seemed to darken in black, foreboding smog as students from all over the campus began quickly making their escape from whatever discord that struck the premises of the school. 

Another overblot? The thought crossed your mind as you continued searching for Grim after being unsuccessful with finding him in his usual napping spot back at Ramshackle. Really, the thought of another overblot cursing Night Raven was not a surprising one. For something that was known to be a rare occurrence in a mage’s life, it was awfully common in the school you had happened to stumble upon after being taken away from your life back in your own world. Truthfully, all you wanted to do was to find your dear friend Grim and get this overblot over with.

But since when did things ever go your way in Twisted Wonderland in the first place?

“Grim?” You called out again, this time a little louder, until you spotted the familiar silhouettes of your four friends—Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel—approaching you in their usual group. Relief flooded over your senses as you hurried to meet them halfway, a thankful look to your face before you spoke. 

“Hey, have you guys seen Grim anywhere? Maybe somewhere near Ramshackle? I have to go get him before we go out to deal with that overblot again-”

“(Y/n),” Jack’s voice called out your name, his tone stern with a cold warning surrounding it, “Grim is the one who is overblotting. You won’t find him back at Ramshackle.”

You stopped in your own tracks as you turned to your friends. The slight shake in your voice was enough to make a few of them shift in regret. “W…what?” you managed to choke out.

Jack continued with his cold, direct tone, leaving you with no room to truly process what was actually happening, “We don’t know how it happened or what triggered him, but all we know is that Grim is overblotting right now as we speak. You do not want to see the state he’s in right now, not with everything you’ve been through together. It’s not safe either. Even the strongest mage in Twisted Wonderland would have trouble overcoming the blot in Grim.”

“It’s too dangerous to be out there, (Y/n),” Epel explained softly after Jack as he carefully walked closer to you. It was almost as if he was so scared that you would run away from them if he made any impulsive movements. The purple-haired first year then continued to speak while placing a sympathetic hand to your wrist, a gentle tug urging you to turn away from the havoc around you.

“Crowley sent us here to make sure you didn’t try to face Grim…” 

Epel and the rest of your first year friends all watched as your expression turned into one of bafflement at each of their actions. There was no way they were telling you to do what you think they wanted you to do. Grim was their friend too. They cared for him. They loved him as much as you did—or that’s what you always thought. There was no way they would just leave him to destroy himself in flames and dark, oozing blot…

No way.

“And you all were just going to what? Stop me from saving my best friend?” you spat as your eyes twitched in disbelief.

“...It was Crowley’s orders.”

The downcast gaze of each and every one of your friends sent a flurry of rage and anger through your veins. That answer was not enough. Not enough to turn your gaze away from your feline friend who absolutely needed you right now.

“To hell with what Crowley orders us to do!” A yell was heard from your form as you roughly yanked your wrist out of Epel’s grip, twisting to turn your attention back to Ace, Deuce, and Jack as well. 

“I don’t see him helping anytime soon!”

Ace interjected your outburst, clearly trying to at least reason with you. But nothing Ace or anyone else said to you would change your mind. That, you were sure of. “(Y/n), you know we would usually be on your side on this. But this time Grim’s overblot is just too danger-”

“It’s because it’s Grim out there that I have to help now!” You interrupted him back with a strain to your voice as you bit back a crack in your throat. A certain type of vulnerability no one had ever seen from you. Not until now. “He’s the only family I have left to hang on to!” 

“What do you guys not understand?!” 

You continued to shout as the group of first years noticed the small shaking of your hands. “(Y/n)... You know you can’t save everyone…”

… What?

A sharp pang then struck your stomach at those words as your expression contorted and ached into despair. Confusion filled the trembling of your form, the world around you suddenly going silent and suffocating. At that moment, everything surrounding you made you feel as if there were boulders being mounted onto your back as you stared into the grueling eyes of your friends in front of you, their gaze piercing and scrutinizing.

Why were they looking at you that way?

You’d never seen their expressions look so… distraught. Like they were lost and had no idea of what to do next. Even after everything you all had been through together—from dangerous spells, estranged housewardens, and random magical adventures—you still had never seen the faces of Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel appear so conflicted. So desolate. They were almost unrecognizable.

“Do you guys really think we should just let him suffer out there alone?” You glance up once more, ignoring their expressions as your voice softened. A sliver of pain was entwined in the way you could barely even bring yourself to finish your sentence.

“Ace? Jack? Epel?” You asked each and every one of them one by one, causing the young men to stand in silence as if even they, themselves, were ashamed of their own actions. A sigh then escaped your mouth at their reluctance to answer. 

“Even you, Deuce..?” You faced him, hoping that at least one of your first year friends would be on your side. But with the way Deuce just stood there, stance unwavering, you realized that for the first time since you met the people of Twisted Wonderland, you were inherently alone.

The deafening silence lasted for what felt like days until you managed to free your legs from the ground to begin slowly walking away, leaving all four of your friends to drown in their own thoughts. They clearly made their choice. And you would make yours. “I… I have to go,” you mumbled as you gradually turned running towards the shaking halls of Night Raven College. The first years remained rooted to the floors of the school as they wordlessly watched you flee, their expressions filled with worry and shame.

A sigh was then heard from Ace as he interrupted whatever thoughts were swirling through everyone’s minds. Walking the same path you had just been on, Ace then dragged Deuce with him as the two followed you into the trembling hallways surrounding you all after attempting to reassure Epel and Jack that they would handle this.

“We’ll go talk to them…” the two promised as they tried to catch up to wherever you had gone…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“(Y/n)!” Ace’s voice rang in the flaming room, catching a certain prefect’s attention.

“What in Twisted Wonderland are you doing?!”

You turned to face your two friends, Ace and Deuce, with a petrified but unwavering look present in your eyes. Grim was out of control and if Crowley refused to help you for the thousandth time, someone had to stop him. 

Even a mere human with no magical abilities such as yourself would have to do.

“I’m saving Grim!” you replied back.

The Adeuce duo glanced at one another, concern for their friend clearly shown in their facial expressions.

“Saving him?! (Y/n), you’re insane if you think you can stop this!” 

Deuce added on to Ace’s chiding, his tone a bit softer as he gazed at the prefect, “(Y/n), there’s a big chance you won’t survive...”

You sighed, sorrow woven in the next words you said.

“Then I suppose I’m taking that risk. For Grim.” Screeching roars that could destroy one’s hearing enveloped the mirror chambers as the magicless freshman faced their beloved cat companion and friend.

You couldn’t comprehend why your friends tried to stop you. All you had wanted was for Grim to come home. Was that such a difficult thing to understand?

Tears began to threaten your eyes as you made your way towards what was left of the quickly disintegrating Night Raven mirror chambers as you left Ace and Deuce’s unreadable faces behind you. A combination of ashes, dust, and wet tears stung both of your eyes as you practically sprinted towards the raging chaos.

Blue flames mockingly danced around you as the heat radiated onto your sweltering skin. But despite the inevitable obstacles, you remained determined to bring your friend back to you as you took a deep breath, whispering your final string of hope into the smoke-filled air.

“Grim… please just come home… Please.”

a/n: alexa play i bet on losing dogs by mitski

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

For those of you who don’t know, I decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus, which is comprised of 9 units. I have completed four of the units (here is my queer cinema syllabus round up post with all the films I’ve watched and written about so far). It is time for me to make my way through Unit 5- Lesbians, which includes the following films: The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995), Bound (1996), Water Lilies (2007) [Skipping for now until I can get access to it], Saving Face (2004), D.E.B.S. (2004), Set It Off (1996), The Handmaiden (2016), Carol (2015), Imagine Me and You (2005), Two of Us (2019), Rafiki (2018), and The Color Purple (1985).

Today I will be talking about

D.E.B.S. (2004) dir. Angela Robinson

[Run Time: 1:31, Language: English] [Content Warning: there is one use of the r word] Summary: Plaid-skirted schoolgirls are groomed by a secret government agency to become the newest members of the elite national-defense group, D.E.B.S.

Cast:  -Sara Foster as Amy -Jordana Brewster as Lucy Diamond -Devon Aoki as Dominique -Jill Ritche as Janet -Meagan Good as Max ___

This write up will not be very long because this movie is not working with substantial, in-depth, layered messaging. BUT HOLY SHIT IT WAS SO MUCH FUN. This is a shitty little cult classic that sees a paramilitary agent (who was recruited from some secret questions in the SATs) and a supervillain falling in love and running off into the sunset together. 

So, I’ve seen low budget films that have quite a lot to say and know it can be done, so I was curious about how in-depth this film might go into discussions of law enforcement, mostly because in the evil lair there is a sign that says The Only Good D.E.B. is a Dead D.E.B. But this is a light hearted comedy piece so though we do get Amy literally saying she’s a cop, there is not a whole lot of like anti-cop sentiment or anything in the film. 

The premise is a spy and a supervillian literally crash in to eachother, have some level of instant connection, the spy has her queer awakening and runs off with the supervillian, is rescued essentially mid coitus, and the supervillian is inspired to start returning all of the things she’d stolen over the years in an effort to get Amy to leave D.E.B.S. and just be in love with her. It’s riddled with hilarious sound effects, forcefields made of plaid, and a SECRET TUNNEL! 

What it does is show that the world’s most wanted supervillian is pretty chill, very gay, and has maybe been portrayed as more ruthless than she actually is (yes that is in fact Madam Super Villan dancing with her henchman in the gif above). What it does show is that little Miss Perfect Score on the secret spy test does not want to be a spy but felt obligated to do so because she was good at it. I did enjoy the repeated questioning of standardized testing, Lucy asking what the spy test tests for and Amy realizing that she doesn’t know and never bothered to ask yet that test was deciding her entire future. 

But again this was SO. MUCH. FUN. to watch and I would recommend it to many people even as just like a silly little wind down film if they were in need of a quick pick me up.

Also there was lots of gay kissing, which I feel is important to note. 

Favorite Moment

My favorite moment was Lucy breaking in to the D.E.B.S house to see Amy the first time. What an iconic piece of comedy: the plaid forcefield around the property that matches their school uniform, Lucy cutting a hole in the forcefield with what legitimately looks like a sonic screwdriver from Doctor Who, jumping over laser detectors on the grass that are also plaid, and climbing up the wall with those like hand-held suction cup things with the most hilarious and incredibly incorrect popping motion every time she sticks the suction cup to the wall. 

Favorite Quote 

“Yes, well, the poster child doesn’t know it yet but she’s into me.” 

I love when queer people recognize queer people, and appreciate that because Amy is young and was just getting out of a relationship with her boyfriend that she might not know her own sexuality yet or have a full understanding of what she is feeling. But Lucy Diamond is an established, adult, queer woman who definitely sees the way that Amy is acting around her and understands immediately what is happening. 

Score

10/10 

For this moment alone

THAT SAID. I do feel the need to justify this scoring. I tend to score things by what they put forth, so a show with campier premises and executions like this one would be scored almost exclusively by vibes. Things like The Miracle of Teddy Bear, for example, which takes itself incredibly seriously, has multiple layers of messaging, and incredibly realistic depictions of queerness, homophobia, and domestic violence is something I would score with a number of actual story telling factors in mind. 

This gets a 10 for vibes, I don’t think I had a single critical thought in the entire hour and a half watching it and I was having a fucking BLAST.

[saltydumplings]

Prompt #40

The villain had been gone for a whole month and the henchman was glad to say that they'd held down the fort successfully. The supervillain's request for their superior's help had come as a shock for sure - and on such short notice too - but it was hardly an opportunity they could turn down. Hardly an opportunity that the villain would want to turn down: they'd dreamt of working with the supervillain for years...

In a selfish way, the henchman was afraid. They loved working for the villain. If this became something permanent - if the villain's new work excursions changed from a month of hands-on scheming to a fulltime employment then where would that leave them? The business the supervillain ran was different. There was no room in it for the henchman, or any of the other small criminals that the villain had roped together under their own small company. If the villain left, then they supposed that would leave them in charge but the henchman didn't want that.

After all, they'd never entered the business of villainy for their own gain.

They liked playing the role of assistant. They liked being able to support the only person they had ever truly cared about.

The henchman shook themself a little as the doors to the office opened, quickly brushing down the villain's seat and standing to the side of it - eyes roaming over every little detail even though they already knew everything to be perfectly in place.

"Villain, welcome b--"

They cut off almost instantly. The shadow of their superior that stood before them so uncharacteristically small.

The villain was pale. Their shoulders hunched inwards and their eyes stayed focused down - the skin of their left cheek mottled with purple and black, the narrow cut there barely a few days old.

"Villain?" the henchman asked, and their voice had never been softer. They drifted forwards slightly, hands itching to reach out. "Are you okay?"

A breath.

The villain's eyes turned up ever so slowly, the corners shining with unshed tears.

"Henchman, I...I think I made a mistake."

[whatswrongwithsweaters]

Purple Pincer stood in the middle of the deck, wisps of fog whipping up around her face, gobsmacked.

"I mean, I got to quit my second job cause of of this" The yellow coated henchmen yelled over the surf. The wind blew more of the fog up around the two. "And the premiu- GARY! GARY CAN YOU TURN THE FOG MACHINE DOWN" he yelled into the hold. "YEAH, 5 is too much now, take it back to 3."

Purple Pincer was getting angry, "And that's enough for you to scare off the other fishermen and mutate all the clams!"

The henchmen held up his hands in exasperation, "look I don't come up with the evil plans, Dr. Progress proposed this a year ago, we've spent months on it"

Purple Pincer pointed her fist in a karate stance, "He won't get away with this!" The lobster strapped to her gauntlet snapped it's claws finishing the action pose they practiced all week.

“Stand down! Join the side of justice!” The hero exclaimed at the villain’s henchmen. “But why? Our boss gives us healthcare, paid vacations, and homes for our familes to live safely.”

[fanartforthesoul]

Thinking of rewriting Harumi’s redemption but it would take a long time so here’s the cliff notes:

Harumi’s desire for revenge is shattered at seeing the little family she nearly destroyed. It’s not long before everything she did to Lloyd- not to mentioned the emperor and empress- comes back to haunt her. Suddenly, she is terrified at seeing her parents again- She must be such a disappointment. So she leaps at the Overlord’s offer to keep her alive.

The Overlord, to be evil and hopefully get a more loyal henchman absolutely TORMENTS Harumi with her guilt and builds the idea that she can’t ever be redeemed.

Lloyd meanwhile is miserable because he’s so hurt and angry by what Harumi did but deep down still wants SO BADLY for her to have gotten to heal, like he did as a kid.

Harumi still does the Overlord’s bidding in the mask but Lloyd rips it off when they first meet. Shock, horror, suppressed hope on both sides.

Harumi figures out the Overlord caused her parents’ death but he just reminds her of what her parents must think of her. Her only real hope of redemption is to help him put the world to rest in darkness. Who will see her guilt in the dark?

Harumi tries to believe this until some point she and Garmadon cross paths and he reaffirms that he sees her as a daughter. After talking with Lloyd, Misako is torn between anger with Harumi, knowledge of Lloyd’s hope for her, and her own compassion. During some fight, maybe she gets a chance to overtake Harumi but just says, “You have no idea how much you mean to my son.”

When Lloyd breaks in as the mechanic, Harumi says she never ever has to trust her again- but she’ll do whatever it takes to beat the Overlord. Lloyd quickly realizes she doesn’t literally mean whatever it takes, as she explains her deal with the Overlord. But at the same time- This is the hope he’s been desperate for.

With some difficulty, Lloyd and Misako give Harumi some pendant with a magic-y tea mixture that could sever the Overlord’s control over her. They don’t have a catalyst yet (The ninja, seeing what this means to Lloyd, each test their powers as the final piece though none work) but will keep looking. In the meantime, Harumi can throw any magic looking thing in a bit of the mixture to see if it works.

High tension as Harumi does everything she can to sabotage the Overlord’s plans, and Lloyd does everything to help her, but all it takes is a suspicious look from the Overlord to make her back down.

Come final battle, Harumi can’t skirt between sides any more and stands directly between the Overlord and a downed Lloyd and Garmadon. This gives them the chance to defeat the Overlord, but not before he begins to drain Harumi. Even as he vanishes, Harumi collapses with a dark purple light streaming from her.

Lloyd catches her and scrambles for everything in reach to try with the mixture. The mixture is a splattered mess on her face, but Lloyd doesn’t care- He never wanted it to end like this! Harumi’s breath speeds up in a panic as he holds her and says he’s sorry for not finding a way to save her- including with the Great Devourer.

Harumi slows down. She takes his hand with a pained but almost playful smile and says she forgives him. (Of course implying that he did nothing wrong in the first place.)

Tears in his eyes, Lloyd forgives her too and kisses her on the cheek.

The mixture lights up. The secret ingredient? Was Oni spit.

[simplydannie]

Velvet & Veneer Fanfic

"Back to the Underground: Poisoned"

Story Arc || Part 1 || Part 2

@jules0511 It's been two weeks. The twins have now been doing any means necessary to survive. The hunt for them isn't over....but a new problem occurs causing more struggle for Velvet and Veneer. We also learn that a small little Trolls has been held captive in the under city of Rageous.

“Boss… she’s on the other line..” 

Shank sat at the chair center of his base: an underground run down old subway terminal. Huge screen monitors displayed across the walls. 

“Put her on.” He gestured towards the screens. They lit up: her face was shadowed, all you could see was her graceful neck, down to her waist as she sat behind her desk. From what he could see, her hair was long with a deep purple hue. Her skin was like porcelain, light purple porcelain. She wasn’t at all pale as those in the under city, she was definitely from the upper atmosphere…. What was attractive was her voice. He couldn’t put words, but her voice sounded like a friend, loving, someone you can trust… but she wasn’t. Shank yelled for everyone to get out… he was to talk to her alone. 

“Mistress.” He greeted.

“I’m not here to make small talk. Do you have my twins or not?” She asked. Today she wore a black velvet blouse, it tightened her bosom but fell loose around her arms. This was her… the twins old manager. The puppeteer behind the green haired puppets. 

“They decided to make a mess of things and off one of my guys. What do you say to that?” Shank asked her. 

Her smile was cunning, vicious, yet beautiful. 

“Did you know what they would do?” He asked her.

“After whats happened and the amount of Troll essence they absorbed, I had my theory. You’ve seen the effects of Troll poison first hand.” 

“But nothing like this. This is different.” He responded. “It cost me a guy, and a drone?  I expect more compensation.” Shank sat back in his chair, crossing his legs. 

“Oh so you expect me to pay double for your idiot henchman and your stupid machine? Honey, I can easily find someone else to do it in a heartbeat. But because of our past, I decided to give you chance. You haven’t let me down. If I recall, YOU were the one to tell me about them in the first place, am I wrong.” 

Shank began to scowl at her words.

“If you can’t handle this, honey, I’ll gladly take it off your shoulders. But I am not paying you anything for a fallen idiot and robot. You’re dealing with the wrong girl here.” She finished.

“FINE!” Shank groaned in annoyance. “If that will get you to shut up. I don’t understand, why them? Cant you get other loons to fill in their place? The boy basically ratted you out.”

“He ratted themselves out. He knows what would’ve happened if he DARED mention my name. My interest in the twins is none of your business. All you need to know is that they’re special….very special.” Mistress replied. 

“Whatever. You better pay me the amount you had said.” 

She moved closer to the camera revealing her face, her beautiful heart shape face. Her dark purple lips pursed into a smile; her bright green eyes staring intently at him as she rested her chin on her hands. 

“Thank you, hun. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Now, I can pay you back in other ways as Ive done before.” She winked biting her lips seductively. “Just come up here and pay me a visit when you can.” 

“Well, I can’t deny that form of payment. Can I now?”

Time passed. 

It had been two weeks since their return. Two weeks they spent in the underground subway trying to figure out where they could go.

Word would have spread to Under Rageous already about the infamous Velvet and Veneer: the frauds of Rageous. 

No one would hire them, work with them. No one would trust them and now, they are being hunted down. If there was one way they were going to make ends meet, they would have to revert to how they survived down here before… thieving. 

Velvet had done her share the past week. She stole only the necessities, and now it was Veneer’s turn. Velvet knew her brother was more than capable of handling his own; his innocence would cause people to turn a blind eye, but ever since the encounter they had with those thugs when they first arrived….she worried. Every time Veneer would leave, her heart would stop in anticipation for his return. They gave each other a time limit: if they were not back within the hour, they would go looking for each other.

Velvet sat on the small used up couch in their hideout. She leaned her head back staring up at the ceiling. 

30 minutes. Veneer had 30 minutes to return or else she would go find him. 

She glanced around at their temporary home….How was it that they came back…to this? They were at the top. Their names known throughout ALL of mount Rageous. They were immortal, gods to them. All the young of Mount Rageouns worshipped the path they walked on. They had it all…the money, the fame, the luxary. And now they were back down here.

The images of that day replayed over and over in her head…. and the more they did, the more it fueled her anger. Her anger towards one specific person in general: Veneer. Velvet clenched her fists tightly at her sides. Stupid, stupid idiot! She thought to herself. He ruined everything for both of them, and for what? They weren’t safe. They weren’t better off than they were before. He just sent them back so they could live like rats again. What was he thinking, she began to fume. 

It began feeding on her rage. The voice began to spin and murmer in her head. It’s his fault. Traitor. Coward. Weakling. You sent us back. Traitor. Velvet grasped the side of her head.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She screamed, but the voices kept talking. You know it’s true. He only thought of himself. Maybe you should have let that thug kill him. You can still go back….Go back….Go back. A pink hue began to glow in her eyes….

Veneer made his way back down into the underground subway, his bag filled with more things than he should have gotten. Before hoping over the tracks, he waited and listened, making sure he wasn’t followed. When all was clear he ran across the tracks in back into their deep hideout. As he got close to the door he did the secret knock he had taught his sister. He listened in carefully….He could hear her voice whisper, as if she were talking to someone. 

“Vels?” He called out as he opened the door. “Vels, I got the necessary stuff. Buuuutt I may have snagged a few “extra” things. I had an idea for that drone and….Vels?” His expression changed from enthusiam to worry....Velvet sat on the couch, hugging her knees, rocking back and forth whispering to herself. He walked closer to her, but stopped as he did….He saw her eyes…Her glowing pink pigmented eyes. Veneer’s heart began to race as he began to slowly walk back towards the enterance.

“….Coward.” He heared her say.

“What was that?” 

“Coward. You’re a coward Veneer!” She clenched her teeth staring at him with anger on her face. 

“Vels please…..” He begant to say. 

“You’re a coward! You’re a traitor! You took everything from me!” She stood up facing him, eyes still glowing pink. Veneer was to stunned for words. What could he say to her? It was his fault, but he didn’t want to be living a lie, he didn’t want to kill Floyd.

“We can finally talk about this. So let’s sit down and talk.” He said calmly.

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK!” She leaped at him, knocking him backwards onto the floor. Talking one fist she punched him across the face causing pain to seer through his left cheek. 

“Velvet! Stop!” He cried. She pinned him down using her knees, taking her other fist she struck him across the face again…and again….and again.

“I HATE YOU! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! I SHOULD HAVE LET THAT THUG KILL YOU!” 

SMACK….SMACK…SMACK…. She could see blood flying everywhere.

“PLEASE STOP. I’M SORRY!” He cried…. She heard the voice of a child…She heard his voice when HE was a child. Veneer crying and begging for his aunt to stop….and that’s when Velvet paused, the pink glow slowly leaving her eyes, her mind starting to come back, the poison loosing its grip again. 

What did I do?…She blacked out…

The smell of food is what woke her. 

Velvet found herself lying down on the single bed they shared, pillows engulfing her in an embrace. She peered through midway opened eyes to find her brother hovering over a small pot over a fire, heating up whatever food he managed to collect. 

“Ven?” She called out. Her vision was still a blur as she slowly started to wake up. 

“Hey! FInally, you’re up!” He walked over to her with a plate in hand. “Not the best, but it’s something.”

Velvet gasped as soon as he got close to her; she finally saw the damage she had done. His left eye was swollen shut, bruises and cuts filled his face, a gash was on his upper lip. He saw the look of horror on her face.

“Oh! It doesn’t feel as bad as it looks.” He smiled.

“I….I did that….” She stared at her hands, “Oh my god…..I….I could’ve killed you….” 

“But you didnt! Vels it’s…it’s not that bad.”

“Shut up!” She cried. “Just shut up! Look at yourself! I could’ve killed you! I was so angry…I AM angry…but …I don’t know what happened…Ven, I’m so sorry…”

He was speechless; she never apologized…ever. Veneer didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know how to react. All he knew at that moment was that something was wrong with her, that she needed help. Using the Troll left her mad, left her crazy. Maybe the ones who would know about this would be the Trolls, but they were far gone. Even if the twins were able to make it out of Under Rageous, they didn’t where to look or where to even start. The best thing he could think of at the moment was placing a hand over hers, hoping she didn’t push him away….she didn’t. 

“…We’ll figure this out. Using the Troll, it didn’t leave you right Vels. Now you know why I had to stop it? Why I had to says something?….I was loosing you..” Veneer said in almost a whisper. 

“How are we going to figure this out?” She asked as her voice shook. For the very first time, Velvet was afraid, she was completely afraid…only her brother was able to calm her and give her some sense of peace in this hell hole. 

“I don’t know Vels…but we will.” 

Their small little footsteps echoed in the giant empty hallways.

The little Trolls ran as fast as they could. Feeling the ground shake beneath them they knew they were being followed…a Rageoun not to far off. 

“Over here guys!” Branch called out as he neared a vent. Who didn’t know where this lead? But wherever it lead was safer than where they were. He opened the vent signalling them to jump in. One by one, each freed Troll went inside. The last Troll was a Funk Troll about his age.

“What about you?” He asked.

“I’ll distract them. This isn’t my first rodeo with giant goofballs like them.” Branch stated. The voices begant to get closer. The Funk Troll gave him a nod.

“See you on the other side, man.”  He jumped through the vent and was gone. Branch made his way to the center of the hallway as the Rageons grew nearer. He quickly took in his surroundings seeing where he could exit. Whatever he did, he had to try and lead them away. Within moments two Rageons where in his line of view, one male and one female, both sporting the same pale skin and dark blue hair.

“Found one!” Cried the female as she glanced at Branch. 

“You did. But can you catch me!” He ran right towards them. What Branch remembered when he faced the twins on their yacht was that Rageouns were big, but their movements were slow compared to that of a Troll. He moved with ease right underneath them, causing them to trip and stumble over each other. Branch also remembered how long their limbs were, how they could easily reach and grasp with ease, but he was prepared. Using his hair, he wrapped it around the neck of one Rageoun causing her to panic as he swung around her and slingshotted himself towards the forehead of the boy…a move he learned from Viva. 

The male Rageoun fell backwards in a daze, knocking himself out as his head hit the cold floor. Branch continued to swing around the female’s neck. He released and wrapping his hair around a metal pole nearby, he sling shotted himself once more towards the center of the girl’s forehead. The force was greater causing her to fall unconscience that moment. Branch landed with a small THUD at the foot of the two Rageouns. The groaned and moaned in pain. 

“That’s what you get! Morons.” Branch ran back to the vent lifting it up. He could hear more voices grow near as more Rageouns approached. “I’m coming home Poppy.” He jumped into the vent.

He could feel himself twist and turn in the darkness as he fell straight down. Branch reached out to grab something, anything as he felt fear enter him. He let out a small yell as he finally his the floor. The vent had lead to the outside of the building they were in. The small Troll rubbed his elbow as he looked around cautiously. 

“Guys.” Branch called out to the other Trolls who escaped before him…silence. He saw small footprints leading away. Okay, they made it out, but where did they go, he wondered to himself. It was dark, it was muggy, the atmosphere of this place felt eerie and distant. Branch heard the small bustling of music and saw glimpses of lights flash above him. He looked up and his jaw dropped in surprise.

“That’s…..that’s Mount Rageous.” He murmured looking up, up, up towards the upper atmospher of was Mount Rageous. 

“If that’s Mount Rageous…then what the heck is this place.” He walked up the small hill that over looked the under city. Lights also shown down here, but something about the artificial lgihts made it seem dark and sad, unlike the lights and the clouds of Mount Rageous. The city above completely covered any light, any rain, any clouds from entering the city below. And I thought Rock Trolls were gloomy, he thought.

This was unknown territory, he had to tread care fully. He hopes he can meet up with the other escaped Trolls somewhere, but his main goal was to find a way out and get back home….get back to Poppy. 

[musekicker]

Set in the Bill wins au, A moment where Ford literally can't disobey orders.

Day.. well who really knew what day number is was with time under Bill's control? But it had been awhile since Bill had gotten everything he wanted. His henchmanics spreading their mayhem through the world. Bill often times joining them. Though he did have a reason to return to the Fearamid often.

His captive human.

Ford was not taking the loss of everything he knew and his gilded cage treatment well at all. The human was still stubborn even after everything. It would be endearing if it were not so frustrating.

Bill however had a plan to break a bit of that stubbornness. And it was in Bill's secret alcohol and snack stash. The really good shit he kept away from his friends.

He had access to a large variety of fun treats and drinks really. What was it about not needing to actually eat or drink that made the act of doing either feel so hedonistic? Maybe it was the use of resources that Bill just did not need.

In any case, Bill was seeking out a particular brand of drink tonight. And when Bill found the stormy purple bottle with equally purple liquid, he stroked the side of the bottle. Dark thoughts about the fun he could had tonight with his favorite human.

Getting Ford to drink the stuff wasn't that hard. Not when using his powers to make the drink look just like water. And though at first Ford had tried refusing food at drink, enough threats pointed at Ford's trapped in a dream bubble had convinced him to just eat and drink what was given him.

The effects of the drink were fast, Ford's world suddenly swaying a bit.

"Bill... what did you do?" Ford asked, correctly guessing that Bill had done something.

"Oh, that would be the drink working on you." Bill said.

Looking at the glass again, Ford saw that the liquid was purple. He dropped the glass in terror. Bill made the glass disappear before it could hit the floor and break.

"It.. I thought it was water. You told me-" Ford said.

"I tell you a lot of things Sixer. Doesn't make most of them true." Bill said. "But here is the truth now. What you just drank is referred to as "Bird song wine". Called that because drinking that makes you do and say anything the first person you see tells you to. Fun little interrogation tool."

"I just took one sip.." Ford said, sounding just a touch forlorn.

"All it takes." Bill said with a touch of glee.

"If you had this, why did you bother with torturing me and using my family as a way to get me to tell you the equation?" Ford asked.

"A good question! Good to know your brain hasn't gone stagnate yet." Bill said.

Ford looked up at Bill to give him a sour laced glare. Bill continued.

"The answer to that question is that it takes a while to brew. Even with my powers sometimes you got to wait. But you got the first taste of this batch. Feel honored!" Bill said.

Ford's glare did not break off of Bill. Bill didn't care.

What he did care about was getting to the fun.

"Get on your knees." Bill told Ford.

The words had a instant effect. Even as Ford opened his mouth to tell Bill what he could do with these orders, Ford found his legs starting to shake. To the point that they seemed ready to give out from under him. He had to kneel or risk falling right onto his face.

Once his knees touched the floor Ford made a attempt to get up despite his still shaking legs.

"Stay on your knees." Bill ordered.

Now Ford's legs were no longer shaking. Instead they felt so heavy. Impossible to move. The shape of Bill's eye, somewhat half lidded like a content cat, showed just how very pleased Bill was by this.

To Ford, it was starting to sink in how bad this was. A great number of things could happen here. Ford couldn't do much to stop any of it before. But being unable to fight any of the abuse that was coming his way was terrifying. He tried not to gulp as he stared at Bill.

"That was a easy one. And you did it so fast I'll reward you with another easy one." Bill said.

Bill floated closer to Ford. Ford tried to rise from the floor once more but still heavy legs. He suspected it would be that way until Bill gave a order that would conflict with or over rule the last order. Or the effect of the drink wore off. Whichever came first.

Now Bill was right in front of Ford. For a moment Bill took in the sight. The his hand went towards Ford's face...

The stopped just short of touching. The back of his hand was now presented to Ford.

"Kiss my hand." Bill said.

Ford grit his teeth at the order. It would not matter how much the thought of such a tender act given to his bitter enemy made him want to spit bile. The back of Bill's hand was waiting.

"Any time now, Sixer." Bill said in a slightly sing song fashion.

The fight to disobey the order did not last much longer. Even when he closed his eyes to avoid looking at Bill's hand the pain was a constant, thrumming feeling in his head. Finally he could not stand the pain any longer.

Almost carefully he took up Bill's hand in his. A incline of Ford's head and his lips were at the back of Bill's hand.

Bill felt what acted as blood for him rush. He hadn't expected such a simple, soft act to affect him like this. Even if the act was only because of a drink. It brought a slightly more red hue to his normal yellow.

Ford meanwhile tested the power of the drink a bit. He had had to kiss Bill's hand because of it. But would it stop him from doing something more. Before Bill knew what was happening, Ford's teeth bit into Bill's hand. Bill yelped and pulled back.

Ford had bit down hard enough to draw blood. Black with golden specks blood was now smeared on Ford's face. And the taste of Bill's blood was in his mouth. It made Ford think of nightmares, stars, and oddly enough a touch of cinnamon.

He really wished he could wash his mouth out right now. But as it was, the blood was already beginning to dry on his lips. Bill was still looking at the bite wound. Though not for very long as the wound was already healing. Once the wound was gone Bill looked at Ford.

Ford expected rage or to be hurt back for his attack. The number of things Bill could do to him without killing him was staggering. His mind was close to spiraling when he realized something.

Bill was laughing.

"A little more bite to you then I remember. I love that." Bill cackled.

Bill then leaned in, his eye focused on Ford and only Ford. Then that eye opened to a toothy maw. The sight made Ford freeze. He had mental images of Bill biting off something like a hand or-

"I'll return the favor soon enough." Bill promised through the eye mouth. "Mark you up more so everyone knows you are mine."

A dark moment that Ford did not doubt would be revisited later if he stayed trapped in Bill's grip. In the next moment Bill's eye turned back to normal. Or as normal enough as anything was for Bill.

Then Bill gripped Ford's chin. Ford didn't bother trying to bite again. There was clearly no point in the action.

Bill seemed to be thinking. Probably coming up with the next order. Ford had the fear that Bill's next order would be something more invasive. More then how the kissing Bill's hand had felt. Though he knew that was still a fairly tame demand.

Ford was stared at so long that Bill was starting to feel awkward. Then Bill's eye lit up literally. Bill had come up with something. Ford went stiff, knowing something bad was coming. But the next words that came out of Bill were not expected.

"Now, tell me the truth, Sixer. How much did you miss me?" Bill asked.

The feeling of pain was there almost immediately. As if the magic at work sensed that Ford would put up more of a fight at this order. And he did fight it. Enough that Ford's hands and teeth clenched.

It was more then the wanting to not obey any orders given from Bill. It was because he knew what words would come out of his mouth. Even though he hated Bill so much that the thought of him made Ford's blood boil, there were old, strong emotions mixed in.

Ford would had rather died then letting Bill know any of that information.

That said, it hurt. A acid like burning sensation that started from the back of his throat. And the longer he tried to keep his mouth shut the further the pain spread.

"Come on Sixer, I know you can do it." Bill said in a tone that just felt like a smirk.

"You really want to know how I feel? Fine!" Ford hissed. "You were the center of my universe. My sun. I thought that you were my muse. I... I thought you were my friend! So that... that I do miss." Ford said.

Bill had knew Ford could get very poetic. And Bill had heard many things in his time of existence. But this, oh this was the sweetest thing that he had ever heard.

The wistful look in Bill's eye must had sparked thoughts of how much Bill had really betrayed Ford. Because Ford's next words were said with such venom behind them.

"But that was the past! It doesn't mean anything now." Ford insisted.

Of course Ford had to add that. As hollow as it felt after all he had just said.

"Oh, but it does to me." Bill said.

Bill's grip grew tighter as sharp claws grew from his fingers. Ford tried not to yelp as the claws dug into skin. Ford was bleeding from those claw tip wounds. Bill idly thought about tasting that blood, licking it off his claws. But first, he had a point to make.

"This could go on and on you know? I could drug all your food and drink, order you to eat it even though you know full well that the drugs are in there. You wouldn't ever be able to fight me ever again." Bill continued.

Ford's back and shoulders grew stiff at those words.

"Not on staying here with me. And certainly not on any activities that I've been wanting to do with you for so long."

Bill's words had dark promises behind them. He finally let go of Ford's chin, long enough to make his eye a mouth again, licking the blood off his claws as he had thought about. Ford made a expression of disgust.

This time when Bill floated closer, Ford made a attempt to push Bill away. The action made Bill's eye narrow just a bit. The song bird wine did not last that long it seemed. Not nearly as long as Bill would had liked. As it was now, Ford was not strong enough to break the control fully but getting close.

This particular fun was soon to end.

Bill could easily just make Ford drink more of the drink, that wonderful cocktail. Maybe even up the amount of the Bird Song wine that went into the mix. If he was going to go down that road he would have to start having a large amount of the stuff made. That would take time.

That was okay. Bill could still have so much fun with Ford. He had Ford where he wanted him. And if time still existed, he would have all the time in the world.

[brazilspill]

Actual real things about the plot of 90's Brazilian children's show Castelo Rá-Tim-Bum

The main character was a 400-year-old boy wizard who lived with his aunt and uncle in a giant-ass castle in the middle of a big city that no one in the city knew about

He lived with his aunt and uncle because his parents and sister were on a trip to Mars and he didn't want to go

The castle was secret but there was a pizza guy who'd pop in once in a while (maybe he worked for a company that delivered pizza to the supernatural?).

There was a kid who lived inside a tv and that was treated as completely normal.

In the first episode he lured the three other protagonists to the castle by making their ball float to the castle entrance (he was bored and wanted friends).

The castle's librarian was a talking orange cat.

There was an alien named Etevaldo who would sometimes pop in for a visit.

There was a random tree in the middle of the castle's foyer where some birds and a talking pink anaconda lived

The anaconda was called Celeste

There was a little purple monster who lived in the castle sewers called Mau (literally, "Bad") who wanted to be bad and a villain but he was really bad at it

There was no explanation as to what Mau was -- he was just this furry purple thing and everyone just went with it

Mau had a rat henchman named Godofredo (Godfrey) who had anxiety problems

The castle had a mouse who drove a mouse-shaped car and everyone was like "Yeah, that's normal, be careful so you don't step on it"

The villain was Doutor Abobrinha (literally, "Doctor Pumpkin"; abobrinha is also slang for "lies", implying he was a liar), who was a realtor who wanted to tear the castle down to gentrify the neighbourhood

The realtor looked like this: