#The demons will somehow come out on top still and continue their rampage

[hyperray]

How isn't Heaven alerted by demon ativity on Earth?

We often talk about how when I.M.P kill their targets the ones who go to Hell haven't yet attacked the imps out of revenge, but what about those who go to Heaven? Statistically speaking some or many of the ones who get assassinated would have to go to Heaven, and the angels should find about the imps through; A: Saint Peter's book might contain the information on how people die, it would be rather odd if they wouldn't have a device like that so that if someone dies a certain way, like suic#de which counts as a cardinal sin, it would determine if they'd go to Heaven or Hell. Since Helluva and Hazbin co-exist we know that the angels don't actually know how one gets to Heaven, but SOMETHING should. B: The victims would tell the angels directly about their cause of death. So how come after all this time noboy in Heaven has gotten alerted to send someone down to deal with them, why shouldn't they? Demons going around on Earth and messing with human's lifes and free will should have to count as some violation, right? The same counts as the succubi and incubi using their asmodean crystals so unless I see a certain list of laws thoe guys have to follow that may make them avoid killing humans to avoid Heaven's wrath, I call bs, but even then Verosika stages people to sin through a supernatural allure so I'd consider this a violation too.

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Prince Animage May 2021 Issue (Part 2)

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

Due to the amount of content in the magazine, I have decided to the split the translation into three parts:

Part 1: Elder Son’s Resolve! Interview with Director Satou Teruo

Part 2: We Won’t Give Up On the Future! Father-Daughter Round-Table Talk with Narita Ken, Matsumoto Sara, and Komatsu Mikako

Part 3: The Strength to Overcome Destiny. Interview with Director Satou Teruo

Intertwining Fates

The curtains on the Yashahimes’ story briefly closed with the shocking scene of “Setsuna’s death”. With Towa and the others at its center, the complexly intertwined fates of various people continue into the second chapter (season).

The fire that tore Towa and Setsuna apart, the Dream Butterfly that stole Setsuna’s slumber, the sleeping Rin, and the Rainbow Pearls that possess demonic power; all these things that became key to the story were connected to Kirinmaru’s elder sister, Zero.

Zero previously heard the Shikon Jewel’s prophecy: “An existence that is neither demon nor human and can cross through time will destroy Kirinmaru.” Thinking that it refers to Towa, Setsuna, Moroha, and Inuyasha, Zero tried to eliminate them in order to protect her younger brother. However, that was just an ostensible reason. Behind her actions lurked a feeling of jealousy towards the half-demons and quarter-demon that carried the Dog General’s blood. It seems her unrealized love for the Dog General was the motivation behind her twisted emotions and actions.

Zero’s behavior rouses Kirinmaru’s anger and she disappears from his sight. However, the story does not end with just this issue being settled. As part of the “Rite of Courage and Cowardice”, Towa and the others end up having to fight Kirinmaru and unbelievably, Setsuna loses her life during the battle.

There is a heap of other issues such as Rin who still continues to sleep even now and the Grim Comet that has appeared in the modern era. It is now an anxious wait for the broadcasting to see how future mysteries will be unraveled in the second chapter (season).

Character Bios

Zero Kirinmaru’s elder sister. She was in love with the Dog General. Being that she was the one who created the Rainbow Pearls, she went to go look for the scattered pearls after her breakdown with Kirinmaru.

Kirinmaru The beast king of the eastern lands. Irritated by his elder sister, Zero’s, misconduct towards Sesshōmaru, they part ways as brother and sister as a result. He battles the three (Towa, Setsuna, Moroha) and kills Setsuna.

Sesshōmaru The son of the beast king who once stood on the same level as Kirinmaru, the Dog General, and Towa and Setsuna’s father. It seems he is searching for a child named Akuru but the reason why is unknown.

Higurashi Towa She treasures her younger twin sister, Setsuna, above all else. As she grieves over Setsuna’s death, she receives a broken Tenseiga from her father, Sesshōmaru… …?

Setsuna A half-demon whose sleep and memories were stolen by the Dream Butterfly. She loses her life while battling Kirinmaru but just before drawing her last breath, she calls Towa “Towa-neechan”.

Moroha Towa and Setsuna’s cousin. Despite being enraged by Setsuna’s death, when she turned into Beniyasha, she was able to maintain her (sound) mind and not get overwhelmed by the rampage of her demonic blood.

The Offense and Defense Concerning Half-Demons

Zero has attempted to eliminate the half-demons that carry the Dog General’s blood by doing things such as spurring Kirinmaru to kill Inuyasha or burning the forest that Towa and Setsuna were hiding in. Sesshōmaru was always by her side. Though he does not say much, Sesshōmaru may have seen through Zero’s intentions early and acted one step ahead.

Rin and Zero’s Connection

Zero can connect to others via “fate” and control them as she pleases. Those whose fates are connected to Zero will die alongside her should she lose her life. It seems Zero herself connected her fate to Rin and used that to keep Sesshōmaru in check. The details on how Rin and Zero’s fates were intertwined is of interest.

That Which Sesshōmaru Searches For

Sesshōmaru is someone who never appeared on the story’s center stage for long. During that time, he was searching for a child named Akuru. It seems that the pinwheel Akuru holds is somehow connected to the giant “Windmill of Time”. After Akuru appeared before Sesshōmaru, the Windmill of Time that had not moved for so long moved again but what does that mean… …?

Setsuna’s Seal

Zero wants Kirinmaru to exterminate Towa and the others but Kirinmaru, preferring to fight fair and square, realizes the difference in strength between him and the girls and decides to hold off battling them until they have grown (in strength). It is there that Zero forcefully releases the seal placed on Setsuna’s demon blood so that Kirinmaru will fight Towa and the others seriously.

A Broken Tenseiga

The Tenseiga that Sesshōmaru carries is a sword of healing that was created from the fang of the Dog General and is known as “the sword that saves the lives of the weak”. Sesshōmaru resurrects the dead Zero with Tenseiga but that enrages Zero and she breaks the blade. Will the broken Tenseiga be able to revive Setsuna who has lost her life?

Famous Quote Pick Up!

The role of Sesshōmaru, Narita Ken “Anymore will sadden Rin”

“Personally, the monologue in episode 24 “Anymore will sadden Rin…” struck me. Even though Sesshōmaru doesn’t show kindness, periodically he will suddenly say something like this. On top of that, he doesn’t even put a lot of emotion into it and it just comes out nonchalantly. I think that‘s what’s good about him.” (Narita)

The role of Higurashi Towa, Matsumoto Sara “We’re not alone now.”

“(the line) At the end of episode 16 “We’re not alone now.” I felt was just like Towa. She says that to Moroha but of course Setsuna is among those she’s thinking of. Towa came to the feudal era for Setsuna’s sake she has always held the feeling of “It’s okay because Setsuna is here” at her core. The strength of her unwaveringness really shows when the three of them are backed into a corner.” (Matsumoto)

The role of Setsuna, Komatsu Mikako “You can always change the way you live”

“The phrase in episode 16 “You can always change the way you live” left an impression on me. Even though Setsuna is a half-demon, she’s quite farsighted (philosophically) for a 14-year-old. I think her environment up until now and the blood that flows within her makes her that way. Having passed episode 20 which depicted Setsuna’s past, I once again feel how powerful this phrase is.” (Komatsu)

We Won’t Give Up on the Future! Father-Daughter Cast Round Table Discussion

Role of Higurashi Towa: Matsumoto Sara Role of Setsuna: Komatsu Mikako Role of Sesshōmaru: Narita Ken

Demanding “A Sense of Smell” From Playing Sesshōmaru

— Since this is after the recording of episode 23 today (the day of the interview), thank you all for your hard work!

Matsumoto: Thank you! You see, today is actually the first time I recorded with Narita-san for “Hanyō no Yashahime”. It’s like “we finally meet” kind of feeling and I’m very happy!

Narita: Finally, it was our first father-daughter meeting! I look forward to doing this interview together.

Komatsu: Likewise, I look forward to working with you as well. Narita-san went straight into recording episode 24 (the final episode) right after recording episode 23. The last episode is next week for us, but we read the script and it was completely shocking… …!

— The final episode had an ending that really made you wonder about the future. Having traversed through the story up to this point, what is everyone’s state of mind right now?

Matsumoto: After episode 20, going into the final stage, the vigor of the story increased. For viewers, I think their theories up to now were all overturned at one point. We also started recording not knowing what was going to happen in the future, so we progressed through recording while talking about “What’s going to happen next?” every time. It was a continuation of surprises. Just when I thought we finally got to interact with our father in episode 23, this time, something like that happens to Setsuna… … I was shocked like “To think they would end it like this!” and I immediately started thinking about how the second chapter (season) would connect from here. My current thought is that as I look forward to the second chapter (season), I want to rewatch season 1 one more time before the broadcasting (for season 2) begins.

Komatsu: Back when I didn’t know what was going to happen, when I asked the staff “How is season 1 going to end and what’s going to happen in season 2?”, they told me “Most of the questions that the viewers have will be answered in season 1. Around the last episode of season 1, you might be able to record with everyone in the Higurashi family again.” That’s why in my (mind), I had my hopes up like “I wonder if in the final episode, the whole Kirinmaru situation and Rin’s sleep would all be resolved and Setsuna and the others go to the modern era again, and in season 2 the three Yashahimes would start a happy school life?”

Everyone: (laughs)

Komatsu: And then it went in a completely different direction! Just when I thought the story was connecting in a line, there’s suddenly more questions. There’s still many unanswered mysteries and in the second chapter (season), what will happen (in regards to the those mysteries) … while having that anticipation, as Setsuna, I want her to be revived as soon as possible. In the Inuyasha world, you get pushed down many times, no matter what, and those intense developments where you fight as you climb back up are a distinct characteristic. Hence, I look forward to those intense developments in the second chapter (season)!

Narita: I don’t like calculating future developments and then think “I’ll do this part like this” so I go into the recordings without knowing the upcoming story or the movement of the characters as much as possible. Besides, it feels more fun to go into it without knowing the story. As such, all I use is my sense of smell. In this work, it feels like I’m using my sense of smell 1,000 times more than usual. That’s just how much concentration is needed, and I feel that this work is very stimulating in more ways than one.

— It seems that Sesshōmaru himself moves knowing what Kirinmaru and Zero are after but Narita-san, you were acting without knowing the upcoming development I see.

Narita: That’s right. Sound director Nagura Yasushi-san asked me “Would you like me to give you something that explains how things will turn out?” but I purposely declined. If I found out, it felt as though unnecessary emotions would come out of my voice. When I act, I aim for the middle between “Lines written in the script as is” and “my own considerations” like “It probably goes like this right?”.

Komatsu: Even though I think Sesshōmaru probably knows everything, his lines have various components mixed into them, so I always get a sense of “I wonder?”.  That’s why as a fan, I love speculating that marginal aspect.

Matsumoto: I’m the same way. (His lines) always leave room for pondering.

Komatsu: He doesn’t speak much to begin with, but I think it’s just like father to not say everything within those few words. Watching Narita-san record in person today, I was moved by how Sesshōmaru’s nuances were expressed with such finesse.

Narita: As expected, you two are “Inuyasha” fans (laughs). But it really is difficult. He won’t say things with words after all. Although, he would just become a boring man if he said everything. I think he himself knows everything, but suppresses giving out the answer and just highlights it a little bit… that kind of moderation is important. I’m always conscious of this when I act but it’s tough after all. I only have a few lines so I have this feeling of “If I mess these words up, when is the next time (I speak)?”. That’s why I act with this feeling of “I’m going to put everything into these words” every time.

— Narita-san, how did you feel when you first heard about the “Hanyō no Yashahime” project?

Narita: I never thought they would revive “Inuyasha” in this form. If they were going to do it, I thought naturally Inuyasha would be the center of the story. The setting of Sesshōmaru’s children being the main characters never crossed my mind. I thought something like that would be impossible and I wondered about a lot of things like “Then who’s the mother?”.  Rin (being the mother) was unexpected.

— It was unexpected?

Narita: I didn’t think he would ever touch upon that. I wanted to shake Sesshōmaru’s shoulders like “This isn’t like you~!” (laughs).

Komatsu: Love sprouted!

Narita: How do I put it, love is something far off to Sesshōmaru… I even think he had kids because he probably had some kind of objective.

— In other words, not because he wanted to create a family?

Narita: That might be true for Inuyasha, but for Sesshōmaru, I think there was an experimental aspect to it like “What sort of chemical reaction would happen in my heart if I had kids”. After all, I don’t think it’s necessary for him to be a dad.

Komatsu: Sesshōmaru certainly does seem like he would have that kind of desire to “want to know”.

— Then how did you feel when you saw the girls?

Narita: “Ah, so this is what they’re like” is what I thought. I thought they were brave, healthy looking kids. When color was added to the characters, I felt there were aspects similar to Sesshōmaru. But you know, the shock that he had daughters really is big. It was like “Will the Sesshōmaru up until now fall apart?” “I don’t want him to start ogling”. It was a little complicated there. It's just that it’s true that in the story of “Inuyasha”, he gradually showed his affection for Rin. In that case, something close to that may also bud for his daughters and that too may become a new appeal for him.

Reenacting Sesshōmaru’s Solitude for the Final Recording

— It’s been 20 years since the time of “Inuyasha” but Narita-san, do you remember the time you met Sesshōmaru?

Narita: I did not get the role of Sesshōmaru through auditioning. It seems there were actual auditions, but they couldn’t come to a decision, so they had Takahashi Rumiko-sensei, the author of the original work, listen to the voice samples of various candidates. It was there that Rumiko-sensei picked me is how the story goes. Until then, I did not have many appearances in anime works, so I think there are many young people who recognize me for my role as Sesshōmaru. I also felt that things changed after I played Sesshōmaru. That’s why to me, his existence is very big.

— His looks are androgynous but his voice is deep, so in the beginning, there may have been people who felt an element of surprise from that.

Narita: When I first saw his character appearance, I remember thinking he was woman dressed in a furisode. That’s why during the first test, I used a higher pitched voice. Like the pretty boy voice so to speak.  Then, the sound director at the time, Tsuruoka Yōta-san told me “Please make it deeper”. I lowered my voice while thinking “What?” yet he still said “Deeper” … That’s why it was very hard in the beginning. It was to the point that I thought “I can’t keep going like this!”.  That’s why I raised my voice just a little bit at time so that it wasn’t noticeable. Otherwise, I felt that I couldn’t express (things). When I did that, it gradually became easier.

Matsumoto: So that’s how it was.

Narita: Although, there was a trigger behind that. At one point, I received a letter from someone who was a fan of the work and it seemed that the Sesshōmaru that person imagined was a certain voice actor who was very popular at the time. When I read that, I thought “Whaaat!” (laughs). But if that’s the case, I thought “It’s fine if I do this more freely” and my shoulders relaxed instantly, and I felt better.

—  As in acting in a way that only you can?

Narita: Yes, that’s why I’m grateful for that letter. It’s thanks to that that I was able to reach a turning point after all.

Komatsu: Meaning you broke through that “Sesshōmaru has to be like this” kind of (mentality). When I first heard Sesshōmaru’s voice in the animation, I was able to grasp that “This is what Sesshōmaru’s scariness was”. To begin with, his beauty and contrasting calmness pierced through me and I had this scary image of him from when I read the manga. However, the moment that became a voice, I really felt that it made it convincing. That’s why from the start in my mind, I couldn’t imagine anyone else for Sesshōmaru other than Narita-san. It’s the complete opposite of Inuyasha’s high tone and he’s calm. He felt like a true greater demon. His rank is much higher than Inuyasha’s and I could feel that sense of him being beyond anyone’s power.

Narita: Afterall, his father (the Dog General) was Ōtsuka Akio-san and his mother is Sakakibara Yoshiko-san. The parents were amazing, weren’t they?

Matsumoto: For sure, the whole family is strong… …!

Narita: But Sesshōmaru’s strength is that he doesn’t flinch even before such parents. Like he has his own world. I thought I really should (act) that part without wavering.

— How did it feel playing Sesshōmaru again for the first time in a while in “Hanyō no Yashahime”?

Narita: It’s been 20 years since “Inuyasha” and 10 years since “Inuyasha the Final Act” so that amount of time is pretty hefty. I thought I could do it instantly but when I tried, it felt off. I was bewildered like “I did this originally so why?”.  I started acting while doing my utmost to recall the feelings from back then, but it didn’t go well immediately and even I was surprised. The stronger the emotional attachment, the closer to myself I got and I thought “This is a human”. I kept comparing and adjusting many times like “Gotta change it back, gotta change it back”.

— So there’s a certain feeling when playing a demon.

Narita: That’s when I thought I probably focused a lot more back during “Inuyasha”. The onsite studio for “Inuyasha” had a peaceful atmosphere and I felt that I couldn’t let myself get caught up in the atmosphere. Stubbornly, I strongly made myself think “I am solitary”. Until I stood in front of the microphone, I would create Sesshōmaru inside myself and carry on as such until the end. That may have been what I was missing. That’s why at the recording of the final episode today, I purposely told the girls “I want you out”.

— In other words?

Narita: Just as I said earlier, I recorded episode 23 with the girls but I recorded the final episode alone. During that time, the girls waited for me (until the interview started) and they could’ve stayed in the booth but I purposely wanted to do it alone. It probably wouldn’t have changed much whether there was someone inside or not but how to put it, I wanted to get closer to the me back then, even just a little.

— I see.

Matsumoto: There’s certainly emphasis on recording with a small number of people right now, so it might be a difficult environment to face your role in. It’s pretty much you get to the studio, immediately voice the scenes you appear in, and then immediately go home when you’re done. Even as a newbie, I can feel it throwing off my rhythm somehow.

— So even bout scenes get (cut up) into small pieces then.

Matsumoto: I think if we had recorded with everyone together from the top, we could’ve created time for each of us to focus on our roles while feeling the flow of the story. I think there’s definitely something that can be built with everyone onsite. However, there’s difficulty from not having time to build that.

Komatsu: When you can feel the flow of the whole thing onsite, the feeling changes a little from when you’re reading the script at home. There are times where you realize things for the first time. But right now, we’re only doing our corresponding scenes, so things come up that we just can’t grasp. There is merit in just doing your turn in a short time, but it feels completely different from doing it with everyone.

— So there’s a challenge that comes from the Corona crisis.

Komatsu: The staff have shown consideration for us by making it possible for us to interact with each other as much as possible, so I’m grateful. While taking in consideration counter measures against spreading the virus, they adjusted it so that those voicing scenes with character conversations can record in the same booth together. Thanks to that, the cast of the three Yashahime were basically able to record together.

Narita: They were limiting it to around 3, 4 people at most. I recorded with Kirinmaru (Yoshimasa Hosoya-san) and Zero (Sakamoto Maaya-san) many times. Then there was Jaken-chan (Chō-san). Jaken was the same old Jaken and he made me think that I had to do my best without losing. I didn’t (record) together with my younger brother (Inuyasha played by Yamaguchi Kappei-san). Not that I want to meet him or anything.

Matsumoto: It’s Lord Sesshōmaru! (laughs)

Komatsu: Thank you! (laughs)

Narita: (laughs) Also, I was able to record together with Rin (Noto Mamiko-san) in episode 1. It felt as though Noto-san had matured a little bit. Her growth as a woman came through a little in her acting, which I thought was wonderful.

Matsumoto: Us daughters haven’t recorded with Noto-san but I just happened to be able to watch the recording for episode 15, so that’s when I greeted her. When I told her “I’m your daughter; thank you for giving birth to me” Noto-san was like “Oh my god~! My daughter~!”. But we had to maintain social distancing so we were both like “I can’t hug youuuu~!” (laughs).

Komatsu: I’m so jealous. I can picture that situation (laughs)

Concern about Setsuna’s life and Towa and Riku’s relationship

— In regard to Rin, it was revealed in episode 23 and 24 that her “fate” is connected to Zero. Matsumoto-san and Komatsu-san, as daughters, what do you think?

Komatsu: I thought “what a cruel fate”. While the feeling of wanting to hurry and meet mother face to face grows stronger, currently the only way to prolong Rin’s life is to keep her asleep, and it’s there that Setsuna’s Dream Butterfly is involved. All that is linked to Zero.

Matsumoto: It’s a negative chain where in order to get Setsuna’s sleep back, you have to kill Zero but doing so would also kill Rin. Towa wants Setsuna to be able to sleep but she still doesn’t know about that connection. She tried to sever that in the final episode, but the result was…

Komatsu:  Setsuna, who was never able to sleep, was finally able to sleep via death. It was such an ironic plot twist… …!

Matsumoto: Seriously, I thought “You’d write this kind of script!?”! (laughs) In the opening for cour 2, there’s a scene where Rin catches a falling Setsuna but I want them to hurry and do this scene in the main story.

Narita: Setsuna will be in season 2, right? We won’t be able to sleep in Setsuna’s place because we’re so curious.

Komatsu: I have faith that she’ll appear… … For that reason, I look forward to Towa’s efforts.

Matsumoto: I’ll do my best! At the end of the final episode, Sesshōmaru takes out a broken Tenseiga and says “Shall you try, Towa…”. That was the first time father said my name. Earlier, I watched Narita-san record from outside the booth and that was truly unforgettable. Seriously, I think it was a scene that entrusted a lot of things (to Towa) so I want to carve that voice into my heart and take on the recording for the final episode.

— In regard to Towa, her relationship with Riku is also of interest.

Matsumoto: You’re right. The scene where she told Riku “I like you!” really surprised me!

Komatsu: Love made up a large portion within the story of “Inuyasha” but “Hanyō no Yashahime” doesn’t have a love component to that level. It was a scene where you saw a small sign of that.

Matsumoto: For the line “I like you”, Nagura-san directed me before the recording “It is absolutely not fawning. Please don’t go in the LOVE (romantic) direction.” I think it was a refreshing emotion and that she liked Riku as a person type feeling. I was also told “It’s okay to show happiness when Towa sees Riku like ‘Oh it’s Riku’”. Even though she doesn’t think it’s (romantic) love, it seems she’s always had this perception of “Riku’s not a bad person” and I think what burst out from that was “I like you”. The fact that Riku hugged her was something that lingered with her into the next episode, and it was very memorable.

Narita: Riku… … he can’t be overlooked in many ways (laughs). This won’t do, I can’t let him live. I guess I should cut him down in a single stroke!

Matsumoto: Fatheeeeer!! (laughs)

Komatsu: Like “I won’t forgive anyone who make a move on my daughter” (laughs)

— Riku’s wellbeing will be something to pay attention to in season 2 (laughs). Lastly please give a message to our readers who are looking forward to the second chapter (season).

Komatsu: First off, there’s what’s going to happen to Setsuna. I’m sure Towa, who’s been entrusted with things, will revive her in the second chapter (season)… … Personally, I want to see father-daughter interaction and a reunion scene with mother. I also haven’t given up on my dream of an exciting modern era school life! Just once is fine but I want an episode where everyone goes to the modern era, wears a school uniform, and takes Kirin-sensei’s class. Having it end as “it was all just a dream” is fine too (laughs). I believe there are issues as well like Inuyasha and Kagome being trapped in the black pearl, so I hope everything is included in the second chapter (season)!

Narita: Indeed, when I think about what all is going to happen, I can’t help but be curious. Coming to episode 23, I recorded with the girls for the first time but how are things going to be between (Sesshōmaru) and the girls going forward? I’m also curious about the relationships with Inuyasha and Kirinmaru. I’m just like the viewers in that I want to enjoy each episode one at a time. I’m truly happy to have encountered this work. I would be happy if everyone continued supporting us.

Matsumoto: In terms of hopes, I want Setsuna to be revived immediately at the beginning of the second chapter (season)… … Even if that doesn’t happen, I want Setsuna to be revived as soon as possible. I think there will be new encounters getting there. At the end of season 1, there was a character named Akuru that appeared along with the keyword “Windmill of Time”. I’m excited to see how those will connect into the second chapter (season). Another thing I’m curious about is the promise that was made to Mei, “We’ll come back for sure”.

Komatsu: Oh yeah

Matsumoto: I do feel that I want to see a scene where Towa says “I’m home” to the Higurashi family… … but right now I don’t want to go back to the modern era! Need to revive Setsuna and clean up everything before that! Riku, Zero, and Kirinmaru might show some new movement in the second chapter (season). Please look forward to it without missing the details!

Q. Who did you think was Towa and Setsuna’s mother?

Narita: I thought it was Jaken (laughs).

Matsumoto: The Mama Jaken theory! (laughs)

Komatsu: Even among the fans, there was the Mama Jaken theory in the beginning (laughs).

Narita: Well, Jaken stays close to Sesshōmaru the most and knows him best. If love was going to sprout, it would’ve been from Jaken. Plus, he’s a full demon.

Matsumoto: Master Jaken really looks at Lord Sesshōmaru after all.

Komatsu: In actuality, Master Jaken was both the educator and caretaker, so his position was like a wet nurse.

Narita: He might’ve been breast feeding them periodically. Demons seem like they can do anything (laughs).

Komatsu: I think Master Jaken guessed what Lord Sesshōmaru was feeling and thought “What is my role…”.

Narita: He probably can’t be by Sesshōmaru’s side if he doesn’t have that kind of anticipation (laughs)

[therewasatale]

broken wings

On Ao3.

Lightning zigzagged through the sky and it was closely followed by the sound of thunder. The battle of forces was so loud it could have been heard in heaven, despite the fact it was closed. The rain and the sharp wind find its way into every nook and canny, the storm hit anything that got in its way. It rampaged, it was as if someone had wanted to vent all his anger on the world

You got booted out from your dream by the persistent dance of a throbbing headache inside your skull. Even before you were fully awake you had a suspicion that it was raining. Somehow your migraines and thunderstorms went hand in hand.

"Son of a…" you reached out to your bedside table and gave out an annoyed moan as you raised the empty plastic bottle in front of you. "Agh, god fucking ..."

You started massaging your temple and forehead with slow circular motions. It helped to at least be able to sit up in the times to come.

Another groan filled your room as the screen of your cell phone lit up. The light flashed into your brain like a knife and you needed some time to adjust to read the exact time.

03:04.

When you felt you would be able to stay on your feet for a while you stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen squinting.

Dean and Sam presumably slept like logs. You hoped Kevin had also knocked himself out in the hard work of translation and was sleeping on the table either in his room or in the foyer. So only the chained Crowley remained awake, whom you had no desire to visit, especially since he began to act strangely.

And of course, there was Gadreel, the angel who barely spoke and whom you have to talk into getting out from Sam's body. The angel who, for some reason, was terrified of sharing his name, even though he was much stronger supernatural being than even a demon. It got out three day ago when Sam let him go after he got finally healed. Since then, the angel spent most of his time in the room they assigned to him, reading. During this time, your opinion of angels has changed a lot.

You snorted softly, massaging your nostrils. God damned lies, and asshole angels…or at least most of them.

"Not now..." You tried to order your thoughts to get them to calm down. You didn’t want to dwell too much on the past while the present was just as messy. More and more it looked like the biggest threat to angels, were each other.

Bloody idjits.

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen and sipped it slowly as you squinted to read the weather report. The thunderstorm is likely to be heading south tomorrow around tomorrow noon, but for the time being it will tirelessly besiege the area. You could have sworn for a moment that you can clearly hear the thunder from outside. Closing your eyes, you imagined the deep rumbling of the sky, and chill ran down your hand.

You had to hunt in the rain more than once, with your siblings or even alone. The night was one thing, even in complete darkness with the right tricks you could keep ahead of the monsters. But rain threw all the rules out of the window. The wind could change at any moment, the raindrops lowered visibility, and the thunder was a great disguise if someone tried to approach you silently. You loved and hated the rain.

Making your way back you noticed a muffled sniffing from behind one of the doors. Looking around, you soon had to realize that you were standing in front of Gadreel's room. You stared at the door for a few moments and then tried to continue on, but the soft sound of crying stopped you again.

Three days, he didn't talk much during that, but somehow you were sure something bad had happened to him. Something utterly terrible, something. they did to him in heaven. The thought made your hand involuntarily clench into a fist.

Sam and Dean may have been tiring and sometimes inhumanely hardheaded, but you could always count on them. Even when you had that falling out with your father and left them, not long before his death. Even after all the shit regarding the apocalypse, you watched each-others back after. They were your brothers and you all loved each other.

You had to fight the urge to throw up, when angels were pretending that they are brothers and sister, yet they constantly hurt each other. You could not help but despise those who do something so unforgivable and still called themselves your family. But of course, you also knew that blood relation, or just the creation itself, doesn’t mean much if there are dickheads in the family.

You softly knocked on the door.

"Gadreel?"

He either didn’t hear it or didn’t want to hear it. You knocked again, and even though you weren’t really motivated to disturb an angel's solitude, yet your instincts told you it was the right idea.

When you opened the door, your words got strangled on the way out of your throat.

There should have been complete darkness inside, but an angel curled up in the corner lit up the room. The faint light was given off by his remaining feathers, which were still able to somehow cling to his broken wings. Someone must have broken them, probably multiple times and the injuries weren’t cared for properly.

Even standing in the doorway, you could make out the deep cuts, you were sure they were made by angel blades. Yet the worst to see were his feathers, they were torn and ruffled pointing all direction.

"Gadreel?" you swallowed stepping inside.

The angel shuddered, huddling up even more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

You saw dozens of torn out feathers in his hands. As you walked closer you had to avoid handfuls of feathers lying on the ground, by now they were devoid of light.

"Heavens, Gadreel," you knelt beside him. "Hey, angel wake up ..."

Gadreel trembled and jolted awake from his sleep. His eyes glowed in a greyish colour as he pulled away from you in horror.

"Hey, hey, it's all right" you raised your hands slowly "it's all right, I don't want to hurt you."

"I…" He took a few deep breaths and gripped the feathers in his hand. You could see the glow fading from eyes as he slowly noticed them. "I-" his voice broke, and tears began to stream down his face. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

"Hey, hey it's okay, hey-" you tried to divert your attention as you moved closer very slowly. "A bad dream." Reaching out, you touched his hand and sighed softly as he shivered but didn't move.

"It's okay," you caressed his hand. Your thoughts came and gone with speed, but somehow, they all came back to you wanting to calm down the angel in some way. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with closed eyes and his wings lowered. He looked like he was waiting for punishment.

"It's okay," you stroked his arm as you sat next to him, taking care of his wings. You only caressed his arms for minutes, listening to his labored breathing. "It's okay, you're safe here."

His body relaxed, but very slowly. He first lowered his shoulders and then opening her clenched hands, let the feathers fall into his lap. He sniffed a bit from time to time and, with a tiny nod, accepted the handkerchief you handed him.

When he looked at you, you saw that in his eyes, though very faintly, the glow of his grace was still visible.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

After a few moments, he shook his head.

"Okay, then just take your time, I'll stay here with you." You glanced towards the wings that were still visible.

"They're repulsive, aren't they?" The tone of his voice resonated painfully inside your soul. One of the feathers hanging alone at an point on his wings, trembled slightly.

"What? No its ..."

"Wounded and ugly," he took a deep breath and squeezed the sentence bitterly. "Just like they should be."

"No, no, that's not true." You answered seriously as you looked into his eyes. "Listen, I don't know what happened to you upstairs, I don't even know why they did this to you. But you were the first to show up to help my brother, without any ulterior motives, so you're one of those angels I still consider good." You took his hand in yours. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but nobody... no one deserves that-"

"It's my fault, the whole thing…" Interrupted the angel" ..everything that’s happening. That the angels are down here, and the fact that demons exist."

The words just started to pour out of him. He was babbling, jumping from topic to topic, but you still managed to make out the most important bits. You were able to figure out what happened, and why he was locked up

"It's all my fault," he covered himself with his broken wings. "It's all happening because of me!"

Is it…really?

You watched him quietly, then leaned closer and gave him a small kiss on his wing. A feather tickled your face which elicited a sad little smile from you.

There was a shocked silence in the room.

"...(Y/N))?"

"It's a bit early and we will have a long talk about this, but it's not all your fault."

"But...because I..."

"You made a mistake, yes," you replied calmly as you carefully caressed those spots on hos wings where the injuries were not too recent. "But we all make mistakes, even angels, even gods damned archangels."

Gadreel was watching you quietly, and you were already grateful just for that.

"Lucifer did quite a bit of shit and yet God made sure that he could be freed. And then on top of that, he was in quiet a good shape that fuckin' bastard. You made a mistake that your father could have fixed with a snap... just a single mistake, you're not responsible for everything." You looked at him.

"Our adopted father always said that if we can't catch a monster, at least not for the first time, what that monster does or would do until we get him, well, its not our fault. We have to take care of ourselves, so we can save more people…And as I understood right, Lucifer bothered you quiet a bit. He''s an asshole, and the one who did this to you too. "

"But well, I-"

"No, you didn't deserve anything close to that, nobody would deserve this," you reached out and caressed his head.

He gave out an embarrassed sigh as his wings slowly became invisible behind him.

"I just..."

"I know it's really hard, but if, for no other reason, remember that we need your help, so don’t hurt yourself. You're an angel who have the power to do a lot of good, don't throw this away from you, Gadreel."

He lowered his eyes and nodded with a sigh.

"I'll try."

"Wonderful," you picked up a blanket from the nearby bed and sat back next to it, wrapping yourself up. "And now sleep."

"But I don't need-"

"I do, but I'm not going anywhere so I can make sure you don't hurt yourself," you muttered, eyes already closing, "lovely angel." You didn’t even notice when your headache disappeared, and when exhaustion took its place. It weighed heavily on every part of your body "It's okay… you didn't do anything wrong… just rest a little…"

"Well ..." Gadreel scratched his head and froze a little as you leaned against him, already. He sat motionless for the rest of the evening to not disturb your sleep. He wanted to make sure you have a good rest, though he wasn’t sure exactly why yet.

[dazaii-sann]

DAZAI x CHUUYA FANFICTION: ONE-SHOT [LOVE OR GUILT]

Blue.

Brown.

Green.

Yellow.

Orange.

Varied colors blended with each other like a 24-color palette. The wind blew from the west, causing the nearby tree leaves to dance along with the non-existent beat. The blue, clear water rampaged in silence, creating an almost seemingly soft serenade. A huge shining orb in the distance was split in half, projecting its reflection on the calm, unmoving water from below.

The whole place is quiet as if every single living soul had already vacated the area.

Well, not quite.

Two figures stood beneath a tree's shadow, taking refuge and solace after a whole day of struggles. The calm, light afternoon breeze soothe their souls as they look at the orange-painted sky.

Silence ensues but for them, it's what they need.

The quiet rage of the sea.

The hushing sound of overlapping leaves.

The way the remaining rays of the dusk kiss their flesh.

The sound of their even breathing.

Sounds romantic, right?

It is, except for one thing.

Everything, everything seems to retain its brilliance but something decided to exclude itself from that small band of glow.

A redhead's eyes… It's empty. The very exact opposite to his surrounding's radiance.

Meanwhile, the brunet beside him stood still, unmoving, as if he's already accustomed to that kind of scenario.

But is he?

No. Definitely not. Not in a million years.

Seeing his ex-partner like that made his knees wobble. All the remaining courage in his body had left him that even panning his head to Chuuya became an impossible task.

The guilt is slowly consuming him, pulling him into a world far more hellish than hell itself.

They stayed like that for a while, the stillness of the setting sun completely vanished into existence and was dethroned by a huge dark blanket covered with stars. The moon is in its crescent form, seems incomplete but whole all the same.

The coldness of the night embraced the two up to their bones, causing them to shiver.

"It's getting cold, Chuuya. Let's go inside?" The brunet proposed without looking at Chuuya.

He can't. Or maybe he actually can, but he chose not to.

Chuuya nods his head slightly and Dazai saw that movement from his eyes' corners.

Dazai's feet move in front of Chuuya's rear. With a slight push, the wheels on Chuuya's seat were sent into motion, carrying Chuuya's body along with it. Trails of the redhead's wheelchair and the brunet's footprints were engraved in the shore's sand and were immediately erased by the wave's arrival.

In just a few minutes, they reached a small house built near the shore. From its size, one can conclude that its interior can only shelter two people at once.

Upon entering the house, Dazai turned on the lights that he closed before going outside with Chuuya this afternoon. It has a simple structure. A kitchen, two couches and a table in between them, the comfort room, and a shared bedroom.

Dazai carefully lifts Chuuya's body and transfer it to one of the couches.

"You're so light, Chuuya~ Am I not feeding you well?" Dazai tried to annoy Chuuya like he used to back in the days but the redhead's expressions didn't even change. Not even a single move in his facial muscles. The brunet knew from the very start, that he could no longer hear Chuuya's annoyed response coming from his own mouth but he's still hoping, hoping that he could still hear Chuuya's voice one more time.

Chuuya's just like a lump of flesh without a soul inside of it. It is said that the soul is the trigger of an ability.

Maybe that's the exact reason why Chuuya lost his.

Ah no… There's no one to be blamed but Dazai.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

After moving Chuuya in a comfortable position, Dazai left him and went straight to the kitchen.

Dazai was a bad cook. Everyone must ready their pitiful stomach before taking in Dazai's food. Not only that but for the aftermath (puking included). But who would eat those kinds of stuff (can't consider them as "food") in the first place?

Everything changed when he started to live and take care of Chuuya over the past 3 years. He learned how to prepare varied homemade viands. Well, he doesn't want the redhead to eat canned goods every single day!

Dazai turned on the flame and let the ingredients fly and land on the pan's heated surface. He hummed a familiar tune, hoping that Chuuya might remember its tune but to no avail.

Dazai arranged the food into a plate and went to the redhead, utensils in his other hand.

Without a word, he scooped a spoonful and brought it closer to Chuuya's mouth.

"Say ah~"

If anyone could see this kind of scenario, the brunet looks like he's feeding a 3-month old baby.

"Well, he's indeed a baby," Dazai said at the back of his mind while moving the spoon back and forth.

After that dinner, Dazai once again carried Chuuya to their bed. It's not that big, but not too small. Just enough for the two of them.

Dazai then wrapped his arms around Chuuya's body. To give him warmth, a human's warmth to liberate the coldness of the night.

With the brunet's slender arms encircled around the redhead's body, and Chuuya's head leaning against Dazai's shoulder, they fall asleep.

Almost at the same time.

 ***

 For three years, the very same sequence of events happened.

Watching the sunrise and sunset together.

Helping him to eat his own food.

And then finally, cradling each other until they got consumed by the God of Sleep.

Have they grown tired of it, especially Dazai?

Even he doesn't know the answer. He was known as the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia, someone who can see through everything. But why can't his superior, almost inhumane mind comprehend this feeling of longing?

Longing for what?

Is it for the return of his ex-partner's glory or the longing to return to his old life?

Maybe, but maybe not.

Dazai thought that the same exact happenings will happen again for today, and the days after that.

But he's wrong.

On with their usual routine, they watch the sun's tiny movement, trying to pull itself up higher in the sky as if it's trying to assert dominance and power. Somehow, the sunrise resembles Dazai every time he rose to bed, struggling his way up like he was being pulled down by the Earth's gravity. To make it less fancy, he's just simply lazy.

"C-chuuya… Is that you?"

Dazai froze, literally.

T-that voice…

Dazai panned his head to where the sound originated.

"A-ane…san…"

Kouyou smiled, but there's hidden remorse in it. The intensity of her eyes changed the moment it landed on Chuuya's frail body.

She looked away and face the brunet once more.

"It's been a while, demon."

 ***

 "So… You're still taking care of him?" Kouyou sat in one of the couches inside of their house.

"Mm…" A simple nod is the only response that he could offer. He's not in the right mood to entertain a conversation right now, especially to those with whom he had ties.

Despite his seemingly uninterested remarks, he's still on the lookout. Who knows? Kouyou might try to do something funny. As for Chuuya, he doubts that this woman will do such a thing.

"I see… I see…" At the same time, a mocking laugh escaped out of her lips. Dazai, on the other hand, painted confusion throughout his face.

"It's all your fault anyway. You've got to clean your own mess and atone with what you had done."

Dazai clenched his fist as tightly as he could.

"Why are you still taking care of him?"

Dazai's lips went agape, trying to utter a word or two but failed miserably.

Why then? What keeps him from escaping and leaving Chuuya behind?

He doesn't know.

"I…"

"Do you love him?" Kouyou's question streak kept on bugging Dazai's feelings.

Dazai's so sure of that fact not until Kouyou retorted once more.

"Or is it because of guilt?"

Guilt, huh?

The brunet said no more and silence governed the two of them.

"Now demon… Which one is it?"

 ***

 Darkness… Just pure darkness…

Or at least, that's what Chuuya sees.

He can't feel anything, nor grasp reality. He's just there, floating in the middle of nothingness. But amidst that abyss, he can feel his bones cracking, his body collapsing, and his blood leaking out of his system. The pain must be immeasurable and unbearable but none of those physical pains can equal his suffering.

He hates the dark, the emptiness because it always made him feel alone.

He can hear a huge crowd of people screaming at the top of their lungs as if their lives are in danger of death.

Yes, that's actually the case.

They're fleeing, away from the young boy in the middle of that immense object and that enemy he's battling against.

Their abilities clashed and the fiery battle caused a deal of damage to the establishments and facilities in the city, but Chuuya came out victorious. Yokohama is safe once again. The civilians already evacuated, thus no casualties recorded.

Everything's fine now.

But Chuuya's still not.

He's on his limit, and his rampage will continue up to the end of his life.

He had already accepted his fate, that corruption will disappear along with his existence but a bandaged hand tamed him.

But it's already late.

Chuuya got hospitalized after that. His life was saved, but his nervous system was badly affected.

Dazai couldn't help but blame himself. He was doing a lot of paper works at the armed detective agency's office (forced by Kunikida of course) but the unexpected foe barged its way to Yokohoma without even knocking.

That's why he's late to arrive at the scene.

Why did Chuuya activate his corrupted form without him?

He's such an idiot, an utter idiot…

But he's far worse than that.

 ***

 "Chuuya~ Let's go outside?" Dazai asked his ex-partner but the latter shook his head weakly, much to the former's surprise. It's the first time Chuuya declined his invitation.

Instead of going outside, Chuuya points his finger to their room's direction, by which, Dazai understood and followed. Maybe Chuuya is just sick of watching the sun's routinary motion every day or he just wants to rest.

To ease his boredom, Dazai cooked for their supper, but a creaking sound came out from Chuuya's location.

Dazai dropped the spatula in hand and sprinted to their bedroom only to find Chuuya scribbling something on a small piece of paper. Because of his malfunctioning muscles, the pen he used created a noise as it dropped on the floor.

"Chuuya? What are you doi-" Dazai is stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw the letters inscribed on his paper. Beside the redhead is a small calendar with eighteen days crossed out for the month of June.

Today's June 19. Dazai's birthday.

"Ha…" Chuuya struggled to say something with his shivering and shaky voice. "Ha…ppy bir-th-da…y, sh-itt…y mac…ke-rel."

Dazai's heart starts to pound harder as if it wants to leap out of his ribcage. His head feels so fuzzy, but light at the time.

What's this feeling…?

Sadness?

Happiness?

Longing?

But Dazai knew that it's more than that.

"Now demon… Which one is it?"

"Ane-san… I already know the answer." He said at the back of his mind before embracing the redhead. He leaned closer to the former executive's ear and whispered, "Thank you, chibi."

Chuuya might not be able to restore his condition the way it once was but for Dazai, that doesn't matter now.

Whether Chuuya the petite mafia executive who kept on bickering with him back in the days or the Chuuya who's struggling to write a single sentence of greeting over a sheet of paper… Dazai's always fond of him, whatever the version.

And that will not change until the end of time.

-END-

[peppersonironi]

Batfam Whumptober Day One

{Read on Ao3}

No. 1: Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

Summary: Jason wakes up restrained in the med bay of the bat cave after a major pit-rampage. He panics and it takes Bruce rushing in to calm him down.

A/N: This is kinda soft? I just couldn't NOT put comfort at the end. It's really my first time writing anything whumpy/angsty, so bear with me. Unedited; we die like Robins.

TW: Panic attacks, referenced self harm

Jason tensed as he gained consciousness. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep, and in his business, that was bad news.

Jason sucked in a breath as he tried to raise a hand to his face. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was tied down to a medical bed in the cave’s med bay. They had used the heavy-duty restraints, the ones that were only pulled out there was a serious safety risk.

Jason’s mouth went dry as he imagined the implications. He was a security risk, so much so that no one was in the room. Not Alfred, not Dick, not Bruce, no one. Whatever happened had been serious.

Jason blinked several times and his breathing grew erratic. Why had they tied him up? Bruce promised he wouldn’t lock his son away again - PROMISED. Had Jason gone too far? Who had he hurt? Not Tim again, they were fine now. No one else had ever actually bothered him that mu - oh no.

Jason’s began to sweat, his chest clenching as he stopped straining to remember what had happened. Jason let out a choked sob as the images flashed before him.

*****

The League had come to Gotham, Ra’s leading it with Talia at his side. So of course everyone was called in.

They had taken down the agents preparing for whatever the f*** the old guy had planned, and were in the middle of a confrontation.

*****

Jason tried to calm his breathing, only to grow with panic. No, no, no, no.

*****

Ra’s had sent Talia in first, along with several of his assassins. Everyone got their turn to take down a league member, and it was going well. Then Jason had decided he wanted to take down the woman that had both saved, and ruined his life.

He ignored Bruce’s command to let him take care of Talia and attacked. They quickly disarmed each other and moved on to hand-to-hand combat. The demon’s daughter tried once or twice to pull a knife move on him, but Jasonw as lucky enough to have heard Duke’s sudden warnings.

Eventually, he pinned her to the top of the roof. Most of the fighting had stopped, and everyone was helping each other take care of the ninjas, except Bruce.

“How does it feel to lose yet again, Talia?” Jason had asked.

“Red Hood,” Bruce said as he approached the pair, “that’s enough.”

Talia smirked. “Why don’t I tell you how it feels?”

“Jason,” Bruce said in warning, “let her go.”

Jason ignored him, which turned out to be a horrific mistake.  When Talia leaned up and whispered in his ear, Jason’s eyes widened beneath his helmet. He fell backwards, scooching away from the woman.

“Little Wing?”

Jason wrapped his arms around his helmet at the sound of his older brother. He shook his head, trying to shake off the emotions stabbing at his control.

No, he thought, I can’t let Talia win.

Jason couldn’t breath, and began to scratch at his helmet, clumsy fingers struggling to rip it off. But when he did, he flung it across the roof.

“Jason?” Bruce asked, ignoring the retreating Al Ghuls.

“Enjoy your fun, Beloved.” Talia called from the helicopter she had just boarded. “He’s going to tear you apart.”

“No,” Jason muttered, tearing at his hair and face. His mask came off a moment later, and his scalp screamed at him, but he couldn’t care less. He somehow found himself on his knees, and looked up to find everyone staring at him.

The crowd was too much. The noises of the city were too much. The rage was too much.

“NO!” Jason yelled, his breathing becoming ragged. He lifted his head up to look at his family, eyes wide. For a moment, he couldn’t see anything beyond sickly green. “Stay back!” But he knew it was too late.

He stood up, stumbling backwards. He couldn’t hear anything anymore, beyond the great rushing of the pit. The roar filled his ears as he tried to look away from the other bats.

He tried, oh boy did he try. But it wasn’t enough. The moment someone came into his vision, he lashed out.  There were sudden yells as Jason blindly struck the person before him. The person was small, so he where he would otherwise have struck the gut, he hit the shoulder instead. Only one person was that small: Damian.

Jason could only watch in horror as his little brother spun and landed against the roof. Hard. He wanted to cry at the pool of blood forming beside the now prone body, but the pit would n’t let him. The red fuelled his rampage, causing him to lash out at the next nearest person: Bruce.

Once upon a time Jason wouldn’t have bothered to restrain himself, would've been elated at the development of events. But this time he couldn’t. This time all that filled the sliver of sanity left in Jason Todd was a cold twisting in his gut.

No, he thought pathetically as arms grabbed him, as broken fragments of conversation - it’s the pit! Hold him down! Talia! Triggered! Rage! Hold on!

No…

*****

Jason gasped and yanked on the restraints, trying to forget how everyone had crowded on him. Except for Damian. How someone had managed to tranq him.

He’d lashed out at his family.

He’d let the pit take over.

He’d let Talia get to him.

He’d killed his brother.

Jason whimpered and sunk down onto the bed, suddenly nauseous. He’d … he’d really done it. This was it. No way Bruce could ever forgive him after this. They’d already lost Damian once, and this time Jason was responsible?

“Damian,” Jason whispered softly, in between ragged breaths. He tried to swallow, but shouldn’t. It was too dry.

Jason shook, the room seeming to close in on him. He pulled on the restraints, suddenly aware of how tight they were. Almost as bad as in Arkham.

Oh no.

Arkham.

Jason blinked, trying to calm the rising panic. Bruce … Bruce had promised not to send him back. But, after he killed Damian? Proved that he has always been unstable? It was now a distinct possibility.

“No,” he muttered, “Please no. I can’t go back. Don’t send me back.” His vision blurred, and the silence of the room became stifling. “I’m sorry,” he cried, like it would do any good, “I’m so sorry. Sorry. Sorry …”

Jason shook his head and blinked away tears as he continued to mutter. He couldn’t think straight. Every spot of logical reasoning had left him. Some part of him knew this. Not that it mattered.

“Chum?”

Jason looked over his shoulder to find Bruce standing in the entrance. He wore civilian clothes - sweatpants and a t-shirt - and looked insanely tired.

“I’m sorry!” Jason began his chant again, the sight of his father renewing panic in him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m -”

“Hey, It’s alright,” Bruce cut in, rushing forward to sit on the chair beside Jason’s bed.

Jason shook his head, unbelieving. “No, no I’m sorry!” He hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller. It was what he had done when he was small, and first came to the manor. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable in years.

Bruce seemed to get this. “Jay, it’s alright. You’re safe.”

Jason shook his head vigorously. “No, you’re not. I can’t - You shouldn’t - I’ll just -” Jason let out a dry heave of a sob and squeezed his eyes shut. His hands shook in the restraints, irritating the already growing bruises. Suddenly, there was a hand in his own.

“Jason, look at me,” Bruce said calmly, patiently. Jason took a shaking breath before slowly turning to look at his father. “Hey, chum, it’s alright. No one blames you. Talia - whatever Talia said was purposeful, there to hurt you. You had no control over it.”

“But I could’ve stopped the pit, I let it get to me.” Why didn’t he get it? Jason was the problem here. He was the one who’d make the … mistake.

Bruce frowned, his eyes soft. A small part of Jason was surprised - he hadn’t seen Bruce look at him like that for a very long time. It was calming, he had to admit. “You held it off for as long as you could,” Bruce said calmly, “Besides, you did warn us. We just didn’t listen.”

Suddenly, the slowly calming emotions flared back up again. “Damian.” Jason out, eyes wide. “Oh no. no, no, no.”

“Jason,” Bruce said, grabbing his face, “breath. Damian’s alright.”

Jason blinked. “What? No, I saw -”

“He’s fine, just upstairs resting.” Bruce interjected promptly. “He was trying to draw your attention away, said that's what happened whenever his mom flared up. Just underestimated your strength.”

Jason frowned. “But I saw him-” Jason hiccuped.

Bruce smiled softly. “He just reopened some stitches on his soldier. A minor concussion from the fall, but Alfred says he’ll be alright with some bed rest.”

“He’s alright?” Jason asked, still shaking and not quite believing Bruce’s words.

“He’s alright.” Bruce confirmed.

Jason collapsed back onto the bed, the twisting in his restraints slowing down. He closed his eyes and breathed.

“The kid’s okay,” Jason whispered to himself.

A few moments later, Bruce spoke again. “Think I can take these off now?”

Jason opened his eyes and looked over to where Bruce was gesturing to the restraints. He tensed, staring up at Bruce. “I thought they were for you?” He asked, more than stated.

Bruce frowned. “No, no of course not. When we brought you in, you had started to wake up again. ‘Kept scratching yourself, and pulling out your hair.” Bruce paused to make sure Jason was looking him in the eye. “These were to protect you from yourself.”

Jason took a few moments to breathe. “Okay,” He said at last, “You can take them off.”

Bruce promptly reached forward and undid the restraints on both his wrists and ankles. He took a moment to gently rub the abused skin of his wrists before setting them down.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, moving back to his chair.

Jason paused to consider. “Ish?”

Bruce chuckled - honest to gosh chuckled! “I’ll take that, he said, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jason’s forehead.

Maybe it was tiredness. Maybe it had to do with released inhibitions from the pit. Maybe general emotional instability. Or maybe he just darn wanted to. Whatever the reason, Jason reached his arms up and wrapped them around Bruce. The man quickly reciprocated, keeping his son securely in the hug.

“Thanks, dad.” Jason said, and smiled.

They remained there for a while, neither really speaking. Slowly, Jason closed his eyes once more. This time,  it wasn’t out of panic, or fear. He was just tired, and honestly, Bruce was a great hugger when he wanted to be.

Later, he’ll check on Damian (bring the kid Cheese Vikings or something. Maybe a new cat?), and both thank and berate him for his actions. He’ll go to Kate and Selina, Dick, Tim, and Steph, Duke and Cass, and Harper. Check on them, and apologize.

But for now?

Now, Jason thinks he’ll sleep.

Tagging: @starrystories2

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 81 Rundown

Code Geass: Lelouch attacks Tokyo… again, except this time there’s no random kidnapping that makes him run out at the last minute. Suzaku has Nunally’s new nuke and threatens to use it if Lelouch doesn’t surrender/let him explain but Lelouch knows Suzaku wouldn’t intentionally nuke a whole city full of civilians while they can’t evacuate thanks to his EMP trains. He’s right since he only took the nuke as a deterrent and had no plans on using it. We get another plot thread pileup with a lot of stuff happening at once but the bullet points are Kallen escaping containment and going on a badass rampage in the Guren Seiten which is still one of my favorite sequences in the series and she kills Bradley and his annoying catchphrase. They basically have Suzaku cornered since the Guren Seiten is a god machine and Suzaku’s Lancelot is just a demigod machine. However Lelouch using his Geass on Suzaku to make him live continues biting him in the ass as it makes him nuke the city which he would never do but the command overrode him seeing it as his only option to survive. Gilford gets a nice death saving Lelouch who he thinks is Cornelia and telling him to live just as he told Suzaku to live. Actually we kill off a lot of the no-name second tier villains in this episode thanks to Kallen’s rampage, a lot of people that have just had a couple scenes throughout R2 bragging about how cool and important they are get stomped. Now the nuke has seemingly killed Nunally who was evacuating at the time which means Lelouch is officially having a BSOD moment (like he doesn’t even do the narration for the next episode preview that’s how out of it he is) and shit seems to have hit the fan. Though honestly I kind of expected more from a nuke like it didn’t even destroy all of Tokyo and Suzaku and Kallen who were both right there when it fired managed to survive and their Knightmares are relatively undamaged, guess you can only die if you’re plot relevant. Though even if you don’t know the spoiler that Nunally survived and this is just an angst fest for Lelouch it should be obvious since Rolo was sent to go get Nunally (and he was gonna kill her because he’s a yandere little bitch, dunno why Lelouch didn’t see that coming after he killed Shirley) and he was right where she was and he survived somehow. Like I don’t remember exactly how this happens but if Rolo survived basically right on top of Nunally’s location chances are she either escaped or also survived.

Inuyasha: We get the second half of the Ayame filler arc this time around and it’s basic but serviceable, Ayame has a really neat design and she shakes up Koga and Kagome’s dynamic enough to make it interesting. It’s kinda funny how she can tell how not into him Kagome is better than either Koga himself or Inuyasha and she kinda feels a bit bad that he has an unrequited love just like she has for him, as well as sympathizing with Kagome. So basically your classic “don’t hate other girls for being romantic rival, female solidarity and all that shit” stories which is always good. Also Koga gets to protect Ayame from the hair demon and actually gets the kill on it, when was the last time Koga actually got the kill on a significant antagonist? That’s also nice. Koga eventually remembers his promise to marry Ayame and off-handed as it was he still feels responsibility to her but tells her they have to forget the past because he doesn’t know if he’ll be coming back from the fight with Naraku alive and doesn’t want some war widow waiting for someone that might never come home. Ayame agrees to forget about the romantic past they shared but still says she’s fallen for him and will train to sense jewel shards like Kagome which as was as we know isn’t a thing you can just do. The hair demon tells them Naraku’s gone somewhere he can’t be found which even though this is filler and it doesn’t directly advance the plot is pretty decent foreshadowing for the Mt. Hakurei arc, even though I think this stretch of filler is probably one of the longest or at least feels that way so it’ll be a while before we get to Mt. Hakurei.

Yu Yu Hakusho: The Rokuyukai fight continues and this time Hiei is up which is funny because Hiei fights are like the exact opposite of Kuwabara fights, Hiei rarely shows a struggle even when he feels it and ends up vastly outpowering his enemies with double-edged sword moves while Kuwabara struggles constantly and usually has to outthink his enemies with some creative ploy. Sure enough Hiei gets knocked around for a bit and doesn’t show any sign of being hurt and uses the Dragon of the Darkness Flame which ended up being a wet dream for every angsty teenager that watched this show back in the day. Though Kurama tells everyone even though Hiei literally murdered and demolished his opponent he sacrificed his arm to do it and had legit no other choice to squash their team leader. That being said their real team leader Chu comes in and he is hilarious and drunk and Australian, always knew demons secretly came from Australia. The smell of alcohol and violence reminds him of home and finally wakes Yusuke up and he’s ready to throw some hands with the weird aussie punk. And it’s basically just Chu stumbling around the arena for half the episode like “Yo I’m fucking great at everything except rock paper scissors” and Yusuke makes fun of him for being scared of a children’s game and Chu murders some crowd members before they get ready to fight. Honestly even if Yusuke loses they still have the Masked Man versus the injured Rinku since Chu killed the other two team members so he could step in as the alternate. Yu Yu Hakusho does this weird thing of making the fights cool but making them less suspenseful by subverting common tropes, like it’s not a tie game here down to the wire, Yusuke’s team is comfortably ahead and can afford a loss here but he’s just like nah this is fine I ‘m good with fighting the Mohawk demon aussie.

Fate Zero: So Kariya loses to Tokiomi and jumps off a building in flames… that was kind of anticlimactic but I guess “moth to the flames” isn’t an expression for nothing. Kyrie saves his life because he realized Gilgamesh is right about him being a sadist and wanting to watch Kariya suffer. Meanwhile Gilgamesh and Lancelot are just kinda still dueling in the sky until Lancelot… does something? Idk what he does he like sprinkles jet fuel from his exhaust over Gilgamesh’s Da Vinci machine and it explodes or something. Lancer breaks his fuck you no healing spear so Saber can use her arms and do her thing and he also takes care of taking apart Lancelot’s jet so he stops aggroing Saber whenever he gets within ten feet of her. Meanwhile Iskandar pulls Caster’s Bloodborne Monster into Unlimited Dude Works and at Kiritsugu’s command drops him back down which idk why the specific location deal was necessary because Saber just ends up Spirit Bomb Getsuga Tenshoing the thing into oblivion, I thought there’d be like a ravine in the river that gets it stuck or something but I guess it’s just put there to minimalize casualties. Iskander and Gilgamesh muse that they’ve just witnessed a Spirit Bomb Getsuga Tensho and scientifically speaking it was pretty fucking dope. Iskandar thinks Saber’s just parroting ideals that were forced on her and crushed her chance at having any sort of normal life just like what was going on with Shirou in UBW and apparently Gilgamesh only jerks off to two things: himself and that exact scenario of girls in despair. Personally I think he’s being a little hard on Saber, like idk Shirou gets a pass on wanting to save the world despite not having the power to do it and actively causing some of the problems he’s trying to solve, and I can’t help but read a little bit of sexism into them calling her “just a little girl” when half the male heroes were probably forced into being great at a young age too, it’s not exactly something people who are well-adjusted wake up and decide to do one day. Alexander the Great himself is famous for throwing away the choice of a long normal life for a short great one, but I guess that’s why he’s big on people getting that choice at least. Just feel like it’s somewhat diminishing of Saber to assume she had no choice in it, wanting to save the world is a normal thing for people to want and at least she’s not doing it with her bare fists and a stick like Shirou was.

Konosuba: So we’ve got the big Darkness episode that’s kind of been hanging over our heads from her introduction. She’s in an arranged marriage with probably the nicest character in the series, like he’s just a genuinely cool dude and I want nothing but good things for him. Unfortunately Darkness likes scumbags. Kazuma kind of hedges his bets here and it’s actually pretty smart. Even though his intent is to dump Darkness off on this guy so he can get rid of her and get someone more useful (even though I don’t remember there being a hard limit on party size and he was just complaining last episode about how hard quests are without her) but he gets in good with her dad so either way he wins. If Darkness gets married he gets rewarded by her dad and gets to do his dumb replacement plan and if she doesn’t he gets his friend back, so there’s no bad ending here for him even if he doesn’t see it that way. Anyway since we haven’t had Darkness around for a few episodes we have a lot of masochism jokes and tit shots to catch up on and that’s basically most of this episode. It’s honestly just kind of weird because you know where it’s going so there’s not much to say about it, I wish the Konosuba characters had some more layers to them because this episode could’ve really added some depth to Darkness but they end up going the route of “Her mom’s dead, she’s lonely and idk she’s just a freak idk what to tell you” like it’s not particularly great in terms of backstories with informing her current character, it shows why she wanted to be in Kazuma’s party but they’re generally all pretty awful to each other as it is. Compare this to something like Black Clover where all those characters also have semi-annoying one off gags that define their whole characters but their backstories usually put a tragic spin on their quirks and make you stop laughing for a sec, that’s the kind of stuff I wish Konosuba did more of because this kind of stuff just makes me wonder how these people function at all and if they really just hate each other and are only sticking together because of plot and spite.

Sailor Moon Crystal: The season two premiere kind of leaves a good impression for how hard I was being on season one. Like yeah we’ve got the totally not Four Kings of Hell again bad guys and their sub-group the totally not four kings of hell again but girls and their mystic seer, but at least there’s some kind of cohesion with this group. Plus the relaxed tone of the mystery around Chibi-Usa and how chill everything is leads to some good comedy and character stuff which is what I was looking for more of in Season 1. Like I love goofy gremlin Usagi and her dorky friends way more than Magical Girl Barbie and the Children of Destiny. Anyway Chibi-Usa invites herself to stay at Usagi’s place and then Rei gets roped into being social which is a good demonstration of how just like the Guardians make Usagi a more dependable person, Usagi makes each of them more personable and relatable, which is nice. Doesn’t last long though as the mini-boss gets into a fight with her and has blue fire and everyone knows in anime logic blue fire is just better than red fire so Rei gets kidnapped while Usagi Rod-whips the girl that did it the Middle Manager of the Black Moon comes down and takes Rei away anyway for a decent cliffhanger.

Durarara!!: Masaomi meets with Dota’s group who get pretty pissy when he talks about them being in the Blue Squares before and blaming the Dollars for the Slasher attacks after they saved his girlfriend. Still he’s trying to find the Dollars leader to straighten things out and they point him to who else but Izaya, who’s just like “Yo it’s your friend Mikado, how’s that for a tragic backstory” and now Masaomi thinks Mikado’s pretty sus but tells his guys not to fight the Dollars under any circumstances to try and de-escalate things but as you know every group has its assholes and the jerks that were picking on Celty and Shinra’s dad earlier break one of Mikado’s classmate’s arms because he’s a Dollars guy, looks like it’s gang war time. Also Walker and Erika narrate this episode and it’s some weird navelgazing about reality and delusion being what you make of it.

[yangssunglasses]

For SSM 2019, Day 10: Fox’s Wedding

Rated T

Summary: AU. When love turns into pain, all trust is gone, and the demon is at the gates demanding its pound of flesh, is there still some hope for salvation?

Available on FFnet

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The Maiden and the Fox

Chapter 1

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In the times of peace, Konoha became a prosperous village filled with joy and laughter. Walking down a street you’d encounter many happy inhabitants. Just an hour ago, Haruno Sakura had been one of them.

Not anymore.

When she headed off to meet with Sasuke, she was almost skipping. She was going to confess her feelings to him. On the return, her gait turned into an unsteady shuffle, her shoulders slumped forward and head bent down as she stared at the ground through the pink hair covering her blotchy, wet face.

There’s no reason for me to love you and surely there’s no reason for you to love me. It’s impossible for anything to happen between us.

Sakura shuddered and sobbed, thinking about those cruel, damning words coming from his perfect lips. The rejection burned her so badly, it was rendering her soul apart. She really thought they were getting closer, that he was showing her interest that wasn’t a mere courtesy, but came from a place of affection. Did she really imagine those covert glances he gave her when he thought she wasn’t looking?

Stupid! Sasuke could never love her. She was so ashamed of herself for presuming that he would that she wished for the ground to swallow her up, never to be seen again.

And despite all the shame, the humiliation, the heartbreak, she still loved him with every fiber of her being, with every shard of her broken heart.

Sakura wiped her eyes and let out a choked laugh. She must be crazy. Or a masochist.

There was no hope in sight for her. The love for Sasuke was in her blood and she had no way to free herself from it. This pain was going to stay with her for the rest of her life and she couldn’t even fathom how she’d be able to withstand it in the days to come.

Weeks turned into months, spring gave way to a summer, and Sakura still suffered. She didn’t see Sasuke much, but every time she glimpsed his regal profile on the other side of the street, even his proud silhouette in the distance, a fresh torrent of pain took her breath away. Her heart throbbed and bled, while she gritted her teeth and carried on with her day, as if pretending she wasn’t hurting would make it better somehow. She had nothing else.

There was no cure for unrequited love.

The worst blow came unexpectedly from the mouth of her best friend.

“Did you hear? Sasuke-kun is getting married!” Ino exclaimed with excitement when they saw each other one morning.

That was the final nail in the coffin. Sakura felt as if a poisoned arrow pierced straight through her chest. She was dealt a mortal wound. She smiled and nodded mechanically as Ino narrated the story of the upcoming Uchiha wedding, but on the inside she was completely numb.

For days after, Sakura contemplated what she should do. The last vestiges of hope she’d unknowingly harboured were now gone. Countless times she fantasized about dramatically stopping the wedding. “If anyone has cause to object to the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the pries would say and she’d swoop in, declare her undying love and make Sasuke realize that he loved her back after all. Of course, in reality interrupting the ceremony would be inexcusable. Instead, she thought about a thousand times about going to him, then confessing again like a madwoman, as if repeating the same thing to him would somehow change his mind.

In the end, she did nothing.

Until something happened, a catastrophe so monumental that it shook the fundaments of the village’s existence, threatening the peace and happiness of its inhabitants.

The Nine-Tailed Fox attacked Konoha.

The distant rumble was the first warning; then the quakes; then, bringing a storm like nothing the village elders had seen before, the raging beast came, burning down anything in its path—crops, cattle, and people.

Their leader, the Hokage, had gone to stop the monster before it entered the village walls. Whatever he’d said or done had been successful because the Demon Fox halted his rampage.

The Hokage returned with a grim look on his face and gathered the village assembly in the central square.

“I talked to the Nine-Tailed Fox,” he announced.

“What did he say? Is he going to leave?” called the impatient voices from the crowd.

The Hokage raised his hand. “Let me speak.” When they quieted, he continued. “The Fox agreed to leave Konoha in peace and without further damage, but on one condition.”

“Well, what is it?!” someone shouted.

The Hokage took in a deep breath. “The Fox demands a human sacrifice. A virgin bride.”

The crowd exploded into shouts of disbelief and fear, followed by loud protests. No young woman wanted to be picked, no one wanted to sacrifice their daughter, sister, niece, or friend.

“Before any of you ask if anyone else would do, the answer is no. I offered myself as a sacrifice, but the Fox didn’t want me,” the Hokage told them wryly. “I hate to do this, I really do. I swore to protect you all from harm. I can’t in a good conscience pick one of the girls to do this, but we have until the dawn or the Fox will destroy Konoha. So I can only ask you to look at your friends and families, at the village we all love. Look into your hearts and make a decision that you feel is right.”

A hand rose into the air, surprising everyone. It belonged to a long-haired, immaculately dressed stern man. He was one of the clan leaders—Hyuuga Hiashi. “I volunteer my daughter Hinata. Her sacrifice for the sake of Konoha will bring a great honour to the Hyuuga clan.”

“Are you sure about this? This is your daughter you’re talking about. You will never get her back,” the Hokage warned.

Hiashi nodded. “I am certain,” he said solemnly. “It is also a duty of the Hyuuga clan to protect Konoha.”

“Very well.”

Sakura watched as Hiashi pulled his daughter to come along with him to the Hokage. She looked deathly pale and her body was trembling, but no one was paying attention to her. Some people were already leading a relieved and cheery conversation, convinced that the danger was as good as gone. Sakura didn’t know Hinata, she’d spoken to the girl less than a handful of times, but she had seen her around the village, shy and quiet and modest, always falling into the background. Now Hinata’s pale lips quivered as she cast around pleading, wild looks. This was not how a willing sacrifice looked like. Sakura also knew from Ino’s gossip about the strained relationship between Hinata and her father. It wasn’t hard to infer that Hiashi jumped at the chance to honourably get rid of a daughter he considered unworthy of the Hyuuga name.

A spark of rage ignited in Sakura’s chest and grew into a raging inferno. Before thinking of the consequences, she yelled out on the top of her lungs, “Wait!”

People turned to look at her in surprise. She stepped forward, eyes solely on the Hokage. “You don’t have to take Hinata. Take me! I volunteer!”

“It’s already decided. Hinata volunteered first,” Hiashi interjected with a frown.

“I didn’t hear her saying that. You volunteered her, Hyuuga-san. Hinata didn’t say anything at all,” Sakura rebuffed, an icy calm overtaking her, then she turned to the Hokage. “Surely I’m a better option? I made this choice on my own, without any coercion. And I guarantee that I am untouched. If someone has to be sacrificed, then pick me, not her.”

Hiashi glared at her with his unsettling milky white eyes. “You dare to rob my clan of the honour-“

“Enough,” the Hokage cut him off. “Are you certain? You have a whole life ahead of you,” he told Sakura gently.

She gave a sharp, decisive nod. “I will do this.”

The Hokage turned to address the assembly again, when she spotted Sasuke standing next to his father. Sakura averted her gaze almost instantly and put a hand over her twisting, tearing heart. “I have nothing to live for anyway,” she whispered to herself with a pained little smile.

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AN: I couldn’t finish this idea in a oneshot, so this is going to be a multichapter. Sorry for low Sasuke content in the first chapter, I promise he’s going to be in the story more, even if Sakura is the main character. Let me know how you liked it :) Until next time!

[kayuripax]

Mutatink 2

My plot bunny from the Ink Demonth decided to breed. And it spat out over 6000 words. Thanks go to @lost-seal for being a wonderful beta-reader and putting up with my at times horrendous reasoning for some plotholes.

 Once again, trigger warnings apply:

TW: Cannibalism, Body Horror, Gore, identity loss, murder, violence

It’s rare that he's actually lucid enough to think over what he is doing. Usually the rage clouds his mind now, and the gaping void in his chest hurts too much to let the rage disappear. Every once in a while, however, the ache lessens and he’s able to actually think. Most often it happens when he gets near the Duplicate of his human form. Oh, how he loathes it. It took his soul, his memories, and his place. But unlike how he used to be, it’s pure ink. And it doesn’t even know.

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Loop chases after loop, the days blur together. How long has it been since he was last lucid? At least five loops ago. This time it comes when he sees the double approaching the boarded off room of the ink machine. He screeches, mid lunge and almost touches it, the ache of being soulless intensifying for a second before leaving in favour of ice-cold awareness when he crashes into the boards. He howls in fury when the duplicate runs.

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He sees the Duplicate again when it runs from Sammy. It runs the second he jumps out of the ink. He gives chase on his malformed legs, doing his best to insure he finally gets his soul back. He almost reaches the Double, but then the door slams close right in front of him. He slams his gloved fist onto the door, and growls loudly. All he hears are ragged breathing and words mumbled in panic. After a final knock, he turns around, the webs trailing along.

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The Duplicate is touching him. He had chased it after he discovered it running errands for the Angel, and in its panic it slammed its palm into his face. He lurches to a halt, his arms fall to his sides limply. His breath is ragged, but for the first time in what surely must’ve been years, he had ran normally. He felt whole. It’s… it’s a feeling that almost makes him cry. The only indication however is the intensifying tremble of his grin, that his limbs have a slight tremor, and the ink on his face is running faster. A peculiar sound escapes his throat and the double  trembles. The contact breaks suddenly when Boris slowly plods into the area. A lurching feeling, and then he feels empty again. Before anything can happen, Boris inches closer, and pulls him into a hug, pinning his arms to the side. Then, achingly slow, he taps out something in Morse.

H-E-N-R-Y

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Boris remembers. He saw when Henry stopped being Henry and the Double had taken his place. It wasn’t that obvious at first, but it definitely showed when Henry stopped talking about his family. When he is hurt, he partially dissolves into ink. Boris noticed. And now that he sees the Demon and the Double, the latter’s hand on the forehead of the former.  He knows what happened to Henry after he was sent into the ink machine during the loop where the ink laid it’s claim. He remembers since that loop. His desire to help Henry overcame whatever stuck them here. When he taps out the name, he feels the skeletal form slump against him, shoulders jerking up in mute sobs. He gently pats the Demon's back.

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He isn’t alone. Boris remembers. Boris remembers. Even without a soul he finally feels something: pure, unadulterated relief. When the Double attempts to take Boris away, the axe raised in trembling hands, he gives off a keening hiss, watching in morbid satisfaction when it jerks back. Now he only needs to get his soul and memories back from it, and then… then he’d finally be whole again.

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He trails after them for hours, the shadow they knew was there. His webs still dance across the walls, positively lethal to the Butchers and the Searchers. Once they fall asleep however, he goes his own way and to her level. He could go there. Usually he didn’t, her twisted but still holy energy managing to make it more difficult than he’d like. Now though? Now it doesn’t matter. Boris remembers. And he’d be damned to an eternity as a soul- and-mindless beast before he’d let her get her hands on Boris. When he approaches, several alarms start blaring, a few searchers jumping up but promptly dissolving under his webs. A roar sounds throughout level nine when she decides to use the metal door to hinder him. Teeth break apart, limbs elongate, becoming more muscled, and it doesn’t stand a chance anymore. Her screams echo throughout the  level. When they fall silent, the entire room is coated in ink and no trace of her and him are in sight. The only thing remaining is a piece of a miracle station, the halo on it prominent.

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When he re-joins Boris and the Double not one speck of ink is out of its place, but despite that Boris looks at him with a knowing eye. He decides not to pay attention to it, instead he viciously tears apart the lone searcher that they encounter. His hollow chest aches more today. He doesn’t trust himself, keeps his distance from Boris. That he is lucid for as long as he is is a wonder all of itself. When the Double inches closer to him, fear on its face, he pushes Boris away, screeches and slams the double into a wall. Cracks appear, his webs writhe. It’s too much, too much too soon. He wants to tear it apart, but he knows he can’t. Not yet. He opens a portal and nearly runs through it. His mind is fading.

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Boris watches in worry when Henry throws the Double into a wall and disappears. He isn’t sure how much of Henry still is there under the ink and it’s influence. It does bring out the darkest tendencies a human has. And Henry was in it for so long now... he grunts as he picks the Double up, carrying it to the stairwell to stuff it in a Miracle Station. The other inhabitants of the studio know to stay away from him, he is under the protection of Henry. The Double wasn’t graced with that mercy. The only person in this place who hasn’t listened to Henry’s declaration (it wasn’t a verbal one, but the fact that his webs don’t hurt Boris are a clear sign) was Alice. And she re-joined the ink. Boris felt when her twisted energy disappeared, and he could breathe a bit easier. He isn’t faulting Henry for lashing out like that against her. He is... unstable.

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Every creature inside the studio cowers when the ire of the Ink Demon swamps the studio. The webs are everywhere, the ink is full of agonized voices that have just lost their physical form and the stream of them is not ebbing the least. He is angry and not himself, the agony and overwhelming anger back in full force, worse than ever before. Nobody is safe. His mindless slaughter continues for quite some time, the miracle stations are crammed, creatures stacking on top of each other to escape him. Then a deafening scream cuts through the dusty air, a harsh and blinding light robbing him of what little remains of his sight. A fist with monstrous strength hits his face, and he can feel his teeth break apart from the force. The back of his skull hits wood, and he feels the inky mass cave in, the feeling strangely clearing his mind from the haze of agony. A second scream shrills, thin but strong hands closing in on his neck, suspending him mid-air. Norman always was strong, even when the studio was still running. Surprisingly so for a man of that age, but that came back to bite him now. He forgot the Projectionist sometimes abandons Level 14 to roam. The harsh light shines directly into his face now, and he hears the projector whirring. Bits and pieces of the inky remains of his skull clatter to the ground, the strange clarity not disappearing, the agony of soulless-ness ebbing in favor of the pain of broken bones. A pain he honestly likes more, because it reminds him that he used to be human. Then, his shrivelled and black husk of a heart stops, when a horribly crackling word escapes the speaker in the Projectionist’s chest.

S͏̞̝̯̤̰̖̙̱͙̬̮̭̲̺̖̖̞͠ͅͅT̶̢̻̰̺̦̞̳͖͎̖̠̹̫͔͉̻͜͟O̢̕͘͏̞̣̜̱P͍̘̹̞͟͠ͅ

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Norman is lucid. It’s rare, but it happens. How, he has no idea. His head was replaced by a projector, for God’s sake. It isn’t a feeling he likes. Even the aches of old age are something he prefers to this. And then there is the speaker lodged in his chest. It hurts. Hurts too much for him to be conscious still, but somehow, he can’t fall asleep and become unconscious. Norman resents the ink for making him go through this endless cycle of mindless beast and horrified man. And then there was Henry. Poor, old Henry. Nice bloke when he still worked with them. And now just as trapped as them. Trapped and tainted. He remembers his last lucid moments. Henry had been mid-transformation, and at that point Norman had stopped attacking. He couldn’t attack his former co-worker, not with the knowledge that it would only speed it up and turn it even more pain filled. The small bout of being lucid had disappeared fast, and then he could only remember small bouts. ‘Bendy’ attacking him, beheading him. Blessed rest in the ink. And then, suddenly, it was as if someone rewound the reel. He could feel how everything went backwards, and suddenly he was back to being mindless. However, he comes to his senses more often now. Small moments, ones he uses to rest outside the ink. And then the Ink Demon started rampaging. The webs are everywhere, creatures, former co-workers, scream and disappear back into the ink, some souls snuffing out permanently. Norman encounters the Demon on Level 11, the ink on it even more runny than usual. And for the first time, the always quivering grin is showing something else than malice. There’s panic there, anger and despair. And then Norman punches it, and suddenly a volley of emotions and a sense of being crashes in on him. That thing was Henry. That thing was Henry. He gathers his strength and bellows out a word.

S͏̞̝̯̤̰̖̙̱͙̬̮̭̲̺̖̖̞͠ͅͅT̶̢̻̰̺̦̞̳͖͎̖̠̹̫͔͉̻͜͟O̢̕͘͏̞̣̜̱P͍̘̹̞͟͠ͅ

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Deafening silence in the halls. The webs are frozen on the walls, and no one moves an inch. Only the soft pat of the ink dripping out from the fractured skull are audible, and it’s unbelievably loud. He slowly moves his head, the fingers still around his neck still holding him in place. The trembling of his grin lessens, then it goes still. The broken teeth don’t fit together anymore, not like they do when he becomes even more of a beast. This time they’re truly broken and shattered, small pieces missing and on the ground. The harsh light of Norman’s lens comes closer, the heat from it giving his cold, mangled frame a bit of sorely needed comfort. Then the fingers around his neck disappear, instead grasping under his arms, and he is pulled up. Staticy crackling escapes Norman’s speaker as the Projectionist shoves him to the elevator, almost punching in the call button and jamming it. As if the surprises weren’t enough this day and loop, his former co-worker’s speaker crackled again, the word escaping it almost... soft. It was his name. His shriveled heart stops again. Then they hear the hum of the elevator, and Norman slinks away in the dark, flickering light disappearing. A second later the elevator dings, and both Boris and the Double are greeted by the sight of an even more mangled form. The Double starts retching at the sight of him. Boris howls.

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Level S. Silent, dusty, and yet oh so loud. Only for him and Boris, the Double horribly ignorant to the screams still haunting the accountants office, not just the one caught on tape. Grant is still there, barely coherent. Screaming, always screaming. He would almost pity the accountant, but he is barely capable of caring about Boris and there is no room left. He slinks closer to the desk when the Double gets the valve, and gazes down on the quivering puddle. His webs cover the writings on the wall, and a quick change of intent silences the screams. Boris shoots him a glance, one that holds no judgment. The accountant had been screaming for over fifteen years. He deserved to be brought into the puddles so he could rest.

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Lost ones. Helpful in one loop, enemy in so many others. He sees how they flinch when people near them move, how their skin glistens in the murky lights. He gets... hungry at the sight. He hungers for the humanity they still hold. For the ink they hold, ink that would repair the remainder of the damage Norman wrought. His ragged breathing gets louder, inky saliva building up behind his teeth. Before he starts to act on his urges however, Boris gloved hand clamps down on his arm, a miniscule shaking of the head accompanying the motion. He growls, but doesn’t yank his arm away. Instead he opens up an inky portal, just like he did on the chasm, and goes to the room the vent system opens to. He trusts the double to go to the correct exit and not the one he always blocks. The trust is justified, it appears twenty minutes afterwards.

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He stares down at the carnival games with a head tilt. The remaining fractures in his skull grate against each other with the motion. The mutterings of the Double, that you were supposed to throw the bottles over, is ignored. He know how it works. He wasn’t thinking about that. He worries more about the upcoming meeting with Allison and Tom. Anger builds up at the thought, the webs writhing a bit more. He grasps one of the balls, agonizingly slow, and stares at it. Then, with speed he shouldn’t have, he throws it at the bottles. They shatter and fall over. It doesn’t calm him down completely, but the sound is still music to his ears. He repeats it for the other stacks. The shooting game is taken care of by the Double. He grins wider, mockingly so, when he notices that it can’t shoot at all even though it has his memories on doing so. The door to the room with the costumes grates open, the metal shrieking. Then he and Boris hear the double shriek at the sight of the costumes. He gives off a raspy, grating laugh. Soon.

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The Butchers in this area huddle together when they feel the opressive ink webs. When the demon comes out of the wall, fingers lengthened to claws, they feel fear for the first time. The slightly cracked teeth break apart, sharpening and growing wider. Then they clamp down and garbled screams sound. The Demon is hungry, not for violence. He hungers for life. So he takes. When the warm, sluggish ink fills his maw, he feels the cracks mending, filling in with ink. The chattering of teeth fills his ears when he turns around and he sees the Striker huddling close to the barrel. It’s stitches are torn and it’s able to open its mouth, revealing toony fangs. He leans closer, his breathing slightly gurgling because of the fresh ink still coating his throat. The nearby Piper groans loudly, and tries to smack him with its wrench. He whirls around, spearing it on his claws. It still flails when he swallows, quickly dissolving and assimilating into his ink. It’s a perversely good feeling, his aches disappearing under the influx of life and ink. The only remaining Butcher is the Striker, who is close to climbing under the barrel out of fear. It shivers at the feeling of the hungry gaze and curls together. It doesn’t want to die. It just got out of the puddles! A croon reaches it ears, and it feels the ghosting of claws on its skin. Claws that become blunt fingers that seize it’s arm and pull it away from the barrel and up in the air. When it dares to look, the trembling grin is back to normal and right in front of it. It squeaks in fear. Then the metal doors grate open, and the demon looks at the intruders. Nothing happens for a second. Then the Demon holds it up like it was a teddy bear, and croons. Boris facepalms.

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The Striker becomes an addition to the group. It stays far away from him though. He doesn’t fault it. He just ate its siblings after all. However, he is intrigued by it. Never before have the stitches torn apart, never before has it produced anything other than the normal garbled sounds. He wants to know what will happen next. It’s new. And new can be helpful. Or dangerous beyond belief. He knows that. Still, he plants it by the corpse of its brethren when they get close to Bertrum. The ride was dangerous. And he wanted to watch his new plaything a bit longer. After the ride starts up, he screeches right in its face, raking the claws over dead, bloated flesh that comes out of the seams of the ride. How he never noticed before is beyond him, but he doesn’t care. This way he gets soul scraps. Little pieces of humanity he wouldn’t be able to feel otherwise. They will carry him over for a while. Just long enough until he can snatch his soul back. Before he will be able to do that, he has some things to do first though. He screeches once more, and the machine goes silent and limp. The Double sits in a corner, axe in front of it, fear, disgust and horror on its face when it takes some in the damage he wrought. His grin trembles a bit more, the agonizing ache slowly seeping in. He turns, slams down the lever, and opens a portal on the nearest wall. He can’t lose it now, when Boris is in the same room. The toon jerks its head, a small but sad smile on his face. He understood what was going on. After Boris ushers the Double and the Striker out, he strides troughs the portal, appearing in the Lobby. Time to destroy The End before the Double got to it and would be able to set him back.

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The Vault is eerie when he tears it apart in his search, his soulless state becoming more obvious, cold and pain creeping in his body. Anger already clouds his vision. After a while he finally rips the right box open and holds the reel in his claws. It burns, even when it isn’t in terms projector. He snarls. Joey coated it in holy water. Given what he is, it’s no surprise that he feels pain. He drops the reel after a second, then sinks down next to it. He is tired. So, so tired...

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He comes to a bit later. The reel has left burn marks in his ink, and he relishes in the pain for a bit. He feels alive for the barest second, then the feeling is swallowed up by the cold. A low whine escapes him as he stands up. He had a plaything to observe. He had to protect Boris. Even with the Angel out of the picture there were enough hazards. And the canid toon never knew how to stay away from trouble. The inky portal opens up, he limps through. When he arrives, he sees the Projectionist approach a Miracle Station. He spreads his webs, grins wider when the flickering light swivels to face him. That grating screech that was Norman’s signature in this inky hell sounds, and suddenly they are fighting. His ink pounds in his ears, the grin trembles even more. For the first time he isn’t experiencing this fight in a mindless rage but lucid. Adrenalin pumps through him, lets him ignore the pain in his leg, his ink filled lungs. When he hoists Norman up at the throat, he hisses in amusement. Norman is struggling against the grip, unable to free himself. A second screech fills the air, then the light starts to flicker more, as if it was dying. He lifts his five fingered hand, runs it over the side of the projector. Then he grips the machine and pulls. The light flickers once more, then goes out. The Projectionist is down for the count.

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Allison and Tom freeze when they see him, the latter unconsciously lifting his hackles. It’s so doglike that Henry wonders if the man is even there anymore, or if the instincts simply take over when face to face with the biggest predator the studio has to offer. He hopes it is the latter. The smell of fear is sharp and distinct, and it’s an almost perverse pleasure to see the man who tormented him and deprived him of food so often be so afraid. Logically he knew that Tom had had no reason to trust him all these loops ago, but it makes him angry every time he thinks about it. The man turned toon could’ve starved him to death. Three times in his whole prison sentence he was able to eat. And always only when Tom was away. He takes pleasure in the flinch and backwards stumble when he limps closer.

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The duo refuses to go to their hideout with him near. He laughs, the sound almost like nails on a chalkboard. Everyone flinches, the Striker that still tags along huddles into a ball. At that motion he simply grins wider, picks the creature up by the scruff of its neck and thrusts it in the arms of the Double. He looms over it for a second, then turns around. His small nap from earlier wasn’t enough, he could feel the tiredness in his aching limbs. He limps through the wall, back to the vault. Once there, he sends his webs out once more, destroying the one searcher that thought of sleeping inside the cardboard boxes. With trembling limbs he opens one of them up, grinning genuinely when he finds the old radio. Oh so carefully he puts it on, then lies down. The music lulls him to sleep.

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Commotion above wakes him up. He grabs the reel, and promptly goes through a portal to see what is going on. Sammy. The man has pulled himself out of the puddles, madder than ever before. Accusations fly from his lips, ink coats the axe he holds, and Boris is missing one hand, the Double trying it’s best to shield both itself and the toon. The Striker lies between them, already halfway dissolved. It was the first one to be hit. Sammy always has been peculiar amongst the ink creatures. Just like him the musician can sense souls trapped by the ink. And the crazed man is the only one in the studio able to punt souls out of his reach. Not even the Angel could do it. And the man is trying his hardest to punt his soul out of reach. Anger overwhelms him as he claws his way out of the wall, his webs promptly flooding the entire area. He roars at the man, loud enough to rattle windows. Teeth break, legs shrivel, arms elongate, claws grow. A deadly dance, no one backing down. His soul was his to take. Not Sammy’s. Not the Angel’s. Nobody’s. Only his. Claws find inky flesh, sink in. The screams of the musician are music to his ears, more so than any tunes the man ever composed. When the body starts to go slack, he doesn’t let it fall, he knows the man is like a cockroach. Only when the ink making up the body starts to dissolve he allows it to slide of his claws. A horrified gasp reaches his ears and he turns. Tom and Allison stare at him and he bares his teeth even more. They flinch.

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Allison can barely bear to look at the giant Demon in front of them. She is too scared, way, way too scared of it and the power she knows it holds. When the thing turns around to look at the Boris, she grips her sword tighter, ready to jump in despite herself. But instead of skewering the toon, the Demon croons unhappily. It’s an unnatural thing, warbling and layered with sounds no throat should ever produce. Not even the throat of the Ink Demon. She inches closer to Tom.

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Boris is injured. Boris is injured. A hand is severed cleanly, the offending appendage already dissolved in the ink. The stump bleeds sluggish, congealing ink dripping to the cavern floor. They all watch how he becomes smaller, turns back into his usual state. The almost silent breathing of the Demon unsettles the others, more so than any other moves he makes. The breathing always sounds, you always know where the Demon is. That it goes silent now does not bode well for anyone. Allison starts fearing for her life.

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He is hyperaware of his surroundings, of Tom and Allison nearby. He’s aching, angry and hungry, always hungry, but he isn’t attacking. He knows the Congregation is moving. They felt their leader dying and they’re angry. But the anger won’t help them against his anger. His anger topples walls and kills in swathes. When the first of the puddles starts bubbling, he gets up, slouching and shuffling to the dead center of the cave. The second the Lost One leaves the puddles he tears into it with energy he hardly shows, tearing it open in a matter of seconds. Hot ink spills on the ground, the soul doesn’t even start to fade before he gobbles it up. It doesn’t help. It isn’t his soul. He needs his own. But he can’t get to it with the machine on. The next soul joins the ink again, the miners hat clattering on the ground noisily. He screeches and his webs dance. Screams sound out, audible to everyone but the Double, blissfully ignorant of everything but his rampage. Searcher after Searcher, Lost One after Lost One, they all fall to his webs. It’s a massacre and he doesn’t care; the ache is too much. He wants it to stop.

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Silence weighs heavily on them, the only sound his ragged breathing, the soft pittering of the ink on his claws splattering on the ground. He trembles, his claws twitch. He wants them to find their mark, to pull out his soul. He wants it desperately. He doesn’t want it. He… He doesn’t… He doesn’t know anymore. He wants to be whole again. He wants this miserable existence, an existence filled with aches and mindless rages to stop. And yet he… and yet he can’t. He’d have to murder himself for it. Even if it was a copy. A damn Duplicate. One that took his entire life, leaving him with the barest dredges of himself. He shivers, a lump in his throat builds up as a small sliver of warmth forms on his face. He lifts his head, stares directly in the small bit of sunlight shining through the cavern roof. He wants to cry at the little bit of warmth, so different from the one he feels when devouring shards of humanity. He wants to cry but can’t. He’s too inhuman. Too soulless. Too tired. He wants it to end.

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Allison stabs him. She stabs him to get at the reel he still clutches in his hand. He feels like simultaneously crying, laughing and tearing her apart for that insolence. He ruled the studio. How dare she? The webs writhe on the wall, he sees her expression become pained. A grim satisfaction grows in his stomach. She should be afraid. But instead of tearing her apart like he wants, he simply growls at her, takes in her shock when the wound simply closes before her eyes. He breathes louder, inches closer to her. Her hands shake, then the sword clatters to the ground. She can feel his breath on her cheek, shivers. It reeks of old ink and blood. A gurgling laugh, too quiet for the Double, Tom and Boris to hear. She starts to regret that move even more than she already does. He raises a claw, traces it over her face, stops at the left side. He could make her look like the Angel he already killed. It would take barely more than the touch he already initiated. It would be satisfying. But it would also remind Boris of how often he died at the hands of the Angel. He pulls back. The toon had become the sole reason that holds him back from these overly violent responses. It should concern him that he isn’t capable of doing so on his own.

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He clutches the reel tightly, ignores the burn of the Holy energy still clinging to it. He needs it. He won’t give it to the Double. He’d be set back to the beginning, mindless once more. He refuses. He won’t become that again. ( He already is, his oh so traitorous mind whispers ) They reach the board that breaks, the sound of the Double hitting the ground music to him. It’s pained groans even more so. Just for the slight thrill of it he jumps down as well, hitting the ground right next to the double. He sees it shiver when he breathes down its neck. It smells of paper, ink and bacon soup. A horrible smell, really. The bacon soup, that is. The stuff had already been there when he worked at the studio. That it’s still there, after 30 years, and is still eaten is... disconcerting. That he ate it himself when he still had his memories is something he expertly ignores.

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The Double shivers with every step he takes, every rattling breath. He would laugh at its fear, but he is occupied with stalking the resident Butcher’s that reappeared. His webs dance, the garbled cries sound through the maze. He takes great joy in ransacking Joey’s office, drowns it in the foul ink of the Butcher’s. The old man would never see it, but it still fills him with a vicious sense of righteousness. The audio log on the desk is another thing he destroys with vigor, this one to prevent the Double from making Joey’s voice ring out. It’s enough he has to hear it in a while, in the Machine. He hisses lowly when the Double gets near. It’s stench disgusts him.

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The vault is eerie as usual, but the remainders of his frenzied search for The End, the reel he still clutches to his chest, are still visible. Claw marks on the walls, the door ripped off its hinges. He almost laughs at the panicked expression of the Double when it sees the reel in his gloved hand. The realization that he controls this loop seems to horrify it. He finally relents and let’s out a long chuckle, the sound like sandpaper on glass shards. Tom and Allison, both just arriving, flinch at the sound. Boris just flattens his ears, not really intimidated. After the ensuing silence he shows them the reel, exaggerated motions making it clear he knows they can’t harm him. When Tom lashes out to get the reel, he screeches louder than ever, the sound turning into a blood-curdling roar, teeth becoming sharper already. The amputee wolf jowls in fright, jerks back. The axe clutters to the ground, the handle breaks. The urge to rip the pesky wolf apart gets stronger every second, and he leers down at Tom, inky saliva drips from the slowly separating teeth and onto the mechanical arm. It’s his turn to jerk when he suddenly feels Boris’ gloved hand on his bony shoulders. He swivels around, the keening growl dying in his throat at the disappointed look on the canines face. He hisses angrily, rage all over his mind, but turns around and opens a corridor to his lair. He snatches Boris’ arm, pulls him along. The panicked scream of the remaining three make him shiver in anticipation and glee. His soul was nearer than ever, it won’t be long now and he’d be finally whole again.

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He slumps on the throne a minute or so after closing the portal. Boris is looking around, both in awe and dread. This is the place where Henry died and turned into the Demon next to him, the soul snatched up by the Double. The look that currently lies on the Demons face however bodes well for him, and, in a way so unlike himself, a vicious grin that matches Henry’s grows on Boris’ face. The man deserves to become himself again, both in body and mind.

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The sound of steps on metal alert them both to the arrival of the Double. Boris anxiously looks at him, but he grins at him, the expression not nearly as stretched as usual. It seems to calm the toon down. When he gives him the reel, he gives a conspiring shush, then turns to the throne and shoves the toon in the seat. Assuming his beastly form is easier than ever, the few soul shards resting in his ink fueling the monstrous body beyond the usual limit. This time the legs bulk up too, leaving him semi-quadrupedal and even larger than usual. The change makes him more confident, and he prowls around the throne, finally lying down in front of Boris like an overgrown panther. When the Double comes in and seems them, it freezes and starts shivering. He grins even wider. The second it takes a step forward, he lashes out and pins it under his massive hand. One wrong move by it would cause it to bleed out or get crushed underneath the inky appendage. He growls as he leans in, inhales the scent of the Double. His saliva drops on the floor, the metal hisses from the slightly acidic fluid. The smell of fear is a sharp and welcome contrast to the ever present ink. He shifts his hand slightly to reveal the chest of the Double, and raises is other hand, then promptly plunges it down. The squelch of his claws sinking into the flesh is hypnotizing. Slowly he pulls the fingers apart, revealing the inky insides of the Double, a glowing and pulsing orb invisible to human eyes smack dab in the middle. He leans in some more, looks at the orb, his soul. It glows a soft blue, the ever present sepia not even attempting to mix in. Oh so gently he lifts it out, cradles it gingerly, as if it might break apart any second. He holds it close to his chest, releases the Double. A second of agonizingly hot pain laces through him. And then he can feel.

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Henry cries. It’s an ugly thing, but he still enjoys every second. He feels again. He still is an inky beast, but he can feel. He finally is himself again. He shivers and wills his ink back to his normal form, but instead of the lanky, misshapen form of the Ink Demon he looks down on his human hands. He howls again, tears of joy roll down his face. He... he really is Henry again. He slowly turns to Boris, pulls his friend into a hug, one that mirrors the one the toon gave him back when he was still the Demon. Boris slowly pats his shoulders, smiling widely. Henry is himself again, he even looks the part! After a while, Henry extracts himself from the hug and takes the reel.

“Let’s end this loop, once and for all. This time there is no Demon to destroy. The End won’t force me back to the ink.” Boris nods takes one end of the reel. They look at each other, and put the reel in. Henry grabs Boris’ hand. And then...

E v e r y t h i n g

G o e s

W h i t e

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Henry awakes to the familiar whistled tune. He growls at the sound, presses his eyelids tighter together. Then he notices the additional weight with him on the bed. He slowly cracks open one eye, and a wide grin overtakes his face when he sees Boris lying on the rickety old bed with him. The wolf grumbles when Henry moves, unwilling to wake up. They managed it. They got out of the studio. And probably broke the loop too, never before had anyone bedside him left the inky abyss of the studio. Gently prodding the wolf causes the toon to slowly open his eyes. After a minute of comically looking around, Henry is crushed in a bear hug and has a sobbing canine on his lap. Slowly, he pats his companions back, then gets off the bed. Boris follows, now smiling.

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The apartment is as ratty as usual, the half eaten omelette still lies on the table. Boris takes one look at it, and promptly swallows it whole. All Henry does in response to it is a headshake, a miniscule smirk playing on his lips. When Boris takes a closer look at all the letters and knickknacks on the corkboard, Henry turns to the storyboards. Had Joey known what the ink had done to him? If he did, had he planned it intentionally? That thought makes Henry growl quietly, a tremor runs troughs his limbs. His teeth ache. The trembling doesn’t lessen. The edges of his vision turn black. Boris looks at him in concern, the low hissing sound that comes out between Henry’s teeth reminds him of the studio. And then he sees it. The ink dripping from the man’s hairline. The slowly widening smile, a mad slash on the pale face. The way the shadows on the walls flicker and dance. You can take the man ( Demon, Boris’ mind whispers ) out of the studio, but you can’t take the studio out of the man.

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Joey flinches violently when he hears the hissing and sees the shadows flicker and dance. The plate he still holds slips out between his fingers and shatters on the floor. When he whirls around at the sound of splintering wood, he comes face to face with Henry looming over him, face a crude mockery of a human one. The smile was way too wide, looked more like the one the Demon he inadvertently created wears. The ink dripping from his old friends hairline adds to the similarities. And then he sees the way Henry’s skin slowly is overtaken by ink, how lanky he looks, how unnatural the angles of his body are. No sound escapes Joey Drew’s throat, but the old man’s heart hammers louder and louder, top fast for his body to handle. The last thing the old man sees when he slumps to the ground and feels the shards of the plate dig into his skin is a pale hand coated in ink shooting out and snatching something out of his chest.

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He swallows the old soul and gags at the taste of bacon soup coating it. He slumps down next to to the lifeless body of Joey, stares at the ink receding into his skin. He isn’t human anymore. He is whole, but he isn’t human. This episode proves it. And yet... he can’t feel sorry for Joey, t he man deserved it. A gloved hand invades Henry’s field of vision. Boris. He slowly grasps the hand and gets up, a small smile on his lips at the prospect of being free from the countless loops. When they reach the front door and it opens to the outside world, not the studio, Henry looks at Boris.

“Come on, Buddy. Let’s get outta here.”

[jokerfan99]

Red Alert (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

At the Blue Base

All has gone quiet. An aqua colored helmet, hold by an armored hand, peaks out from cover to see if the sniper reacted to it. Nothing. The hand shakes the helmet to if he reacts to its movement. Nothing. Church puts the helmet back, exposing himself out of the open before jumping left and right like a mindless fool. Still nothing. He let out sigh of relief as it would seem the sniper has stopped shooting for whatever reason.

Church: Okay, guys. You can come out now!

His two teammates did as they were told. Tucker is shocked by the experience. That sniper, whoever the hell he is, meant serious business. And as for Caboose, is still the good old Caboose.

Church: Everyone okay? Tucker: Holy shit, that was intense! I think a bullet just scratched the side of my helm. One more inch, I would've been killed! Church: Caboose? Caboose: I think I got a cut on my pinky. Ouch. Church: That's a yes. It's a good thing none of us got shot but goddammit, do they need to add more holes on our base! Tucker: So what do we do now? Church: Don't know. That sniper of theirs suddenly stopped shooting, and it could possibly be Grif. If I know him well, that fatass could be having another snack time again.

Church grabs his binoculars and looks through it to see what's happening out there on the Red's base. On it are three Reds, two of them he recognized but not the other, who is lying on the concrete floor with a sniper rifle in his hands. He noticed that he isn't wearing a helmet, however, due to the distance from here and there and the rifle the sniper's holding, he couldn't get a good look on his face. Don't tell me the Red's have another newbie in their gang, thought Church. And aside from that, is that a mini pyramid made out of sniper magazines beside him?

Tucker: Well, is it Grif? Church: No, it looks like the Red's aren't the only ones who got a new rookie. Tucker: They got a new member too?! Wow, Blood Gulch is turning a holiday destination. So what's he look like? Church: Don't know, I can't see his face that clearly. But the good news is, he really isn't shooting at us anymore. See.

Church hands out the binoculars to Tucker. The Teal One looks through them and surprised to see the pyramid of magazines. But what really caught his attention is what's beside the mini pyramid, a helmetless sniper. The hair's what caught his attention. Like Church, he couldn't clearly see the face but that doesn't stop him from guessing the sniper's gender.

Tucker: Well hello there babe. Church: What? Tucker: Nothing! Caboose: What's happening? Church: That sniper of theirs stopped shooting. Guy must've used up all of the Red base's sniper rounds. Tucker: No shit. He made a pyramid out of sniper magazines. Caboose: Oh that's good! Can we spank 'em back? Church: And go out there turning ourselves into swiss cheese? Not a chance! Plus, I wanna try spending a whole year not becoming Casper the Unfriendly Ghost. Caboose: How long did you not become a ghost? Church: Eight months. Tucker: Wait a minute, we don't need to get out there and go guns blazing. Church: Your point is? Tucker: We counter-attack with 'that'

Tucker points Church to the mystery rifle, once again being cudled in the idiot's arms.

Caboose: Don't worry, Sheila II. Everything's going to be alright. Church: Oooh, hehehehe. Caboose, get as many sniper rounds as you can and bring 'em back here. Caboose: Oh right! It's feeding time for Sheila!

At the Red Base

CLICK CLICK CLICK

Ruby kept repeatedly pulls the trigger to continue firing, but no shots came out from the barrel. Her fifty-eighth and last magazine has gone dry. She creepily turns her head slowly to Sarge and Lopez still standing still behind her. Lopez, despite being a robot, slowly backs up a bit when the sight of her demonic eyes made contact with his optics. Sarge, as the grown soldier he is, isn't phased by this but is gravely concerned for his favourite markswoman's sudden personality change.

Ruby: Magazine... now... Lopez: ¡Esas son todas las rondas de francotiradores que tenemos en la base!

Ruby shots up from the floor before walking towards Sarge and Lopez.

Sarge: Ruby, I order you to stop! You're acting strangely and you require some psychological treatment from me!

Ruby responded to her superior with a menacing glare. Sarge makes a second thought about the psycho treatment and moved to side to give the brunette way. Now she's heading towards Lopez. The poor bot's fear chip starts to heat up as he witnesses Mictlāntēcutli's child heading straight towards him. Perhaps she's now crossed at him that he couldn't give her anymore bullets.

Lopez: Realmente, eso es todo lo que tenemos! Sr. Sarge, haga algo! Sarge: Well, Lopez it's nice knowing you.

Lopez turns his optics off, bracing for the terrible fate that awaits him! But instead of Ruby tearing him apart, bolt by bolt, she walked passed beside him. Ruby then descends down the stairs but before she enters the base, she asked one thing from Sarge.

Ruby: Permission... to use... Mongoose. Sarge: Uhm... permission granted?

Ruby stood still for a while before continuing her way down.

Sarge: Well that was something. Lopez, I'm dissapointed in you. You should've told me something was wrong with Rose! Lopez: Al menos el hijo de Mictlāntēcutli se ha ido. Sarge: It looks like the sight of the Blue's holding her weapon has somehow triggered an animalistic instinct within her. Like a mother bear whose cub got kidnapped by a pack of hungry mountain lions and went on a rampage on them! Lopez: Entonces, ¿qué hacemos ahora? Sarge: If you mean, 'what's next', nothing. Lopez: ¿Qué? Sarge: Think about it, Lopez. The Blue's are the mountain lions who kidnapped her cub a.k.a her rifle, she'll pour all her anger onto them and tear them apart like hot butter! Lopez: ¿Crees que es una buena idea dejar que luchen contra ellos solos? Sarge: The Blue's don't have time to react when Ruby shows up at their doorbell. Get a bucket of popcorn, and some chairs as well!

BANG!

Sarge: WHAT IN SAM HILL?!

The sound of concrete shattering caught both of their attention before another chunk of concrete get's blasted nearby. Sarge quickly ducks onto the ground, however for Lopez, the third shot pierces through his neck. The shockwave of the shot erupts his neck, causing his head to fly off from his body. His head landed right in front of  his superior before the bullets began flying above them.

Lopez: Que pasó ?! Sarge: Damn those, Blues! They're now using Crescent Rose against us! Thieving barbarians!!!

Sarge puts two of his fingers on the side of his helmet to contact the Warthog team.

Simmons through radio: Yes, Sarge? Sarge: Simmons, how far are you to the base? Simmons through radio: We're stopping by at a tree, sir. Fatass here forgot to do his business before we left! Grif through radio: It just kicked in! Sarge: Well tell that idiot to hurry up! The Blues are unleashing a counter-attack with Crescent Rose on us, we're being pinned down! Simmons through radio: Yessir! Hurry up, Grif!

Back at the Blue Base

Caboose continuosly pulls the trigger as he fires at the Red base. He fires the cartridges last bullet before loading up a new magazine while singing Ten Little Unggoys, counting each Unggoys with each shot he fires. This puts a smile on Church as he witnesses the mayhem Caboose unleashes through the binos. He laughed when one of the shots obliterated the sniper's mini magazine pyramid.

Caboose: ~One little, two little, three little Unngoys, four little, five little, six little Unngoys...! Church: Hahaha! How's it feel to have hole on your walls, biatch! Tucker: How they holding up out there? Church: Take a look at yourself. Schnee is seriously missing out the fun. I have never been so happy for months! Tucker: Really? Hey, Caboose. I wanna try it out! Church: Oh no you don't, I got a sniper rifle and I should try it first! Tucker: Says the guy who can't even land a single shot at something. Church: Fuck off! You just wanna use it to hook up girls don't you? And I doubt it'll work on Schnee this time. Caboose: Here you go. Church: Fuck! Tucker: Oh yeah-hah, baby. Let's do this!

Tucker grabs the rifle. He lies down on the same spot Caboose was lying and begins aiming for a target. Sarge, wherever the hell he is hiding now, is just too easy so he waits for the other Reds to come out. Grif? Got shot too many times by Sarge. Simmons? His skull's covered in layer of steel. Donut? Well he did made one hell of a choir during one of those nights. So Donut it is. Except for that sniper, cause if he's really a girl, he plans to hook up with her later.

Church: What are you waiting for 'Teal One'? Shoot something already. Tucker: Not yet. I'm planning to shoot Donut right on the ass. You're gonna hear high-class choir. Buahahaha! Church: Donut? Hold on a sec!

Church takes a look at the Red base again. He examines it, top to bottom. The only Reds he sees are Sarge and Lopez, but no sign of the Simmons, Grif nor Donut. Not just them, the Warthog's nowhere to be seen too!

Church: Oh fuck. Uhm, guys? Their Warthog's gone. Tucker: So? Come on out you pink piece of shit.

[Los Dos Laredos Acordeones Playing In The Distance]

Tucker: Guys, will you keep it down? I'm trying to concentrate here. Church: Like I thought. Caboose: Uh oh! Tucker: Huh?

The Blues turned around to the source of the god awful music. There they spotted an incoming Warthog with a familiar trio of idiots riding on it before the gattling gun begins firing at the Blues.

Donut: Eat this, you rotten thieves!

BABABABABABABABABABANG!!!

Church, Tucker and Caboose: SON OF A BITCH!!!

All three quickly duck down. The bullets missed their mark, but the walls fall victim to enemy fire once again. Once it got close to the base, the Warthog starts to circling around as it firing at them with no signs of stopping.

Church: First a sniper, now a MACHINE GUN! Is this day getting any worse? Simmons: Suck it, Blues! This is what you get for stealing our rifle! Church and Tucker: ...Steal?! Caboose: Santa steals weapon so he can give them as presents?! Does that mean he gets himself a lump of coal?

On the Warthog

Grif almost lost concentration on the wheel by what Simmons cried out.

Grif: What was that for? Simmons: I'm trying to get along with the situation. You should too. Grif: I can't believe we're doing this! A rescue mission for a weapon is the stupidest thing that has ever happened in military history! All thanks to us! Simmons: SHHH, shut up! Donut's with us! Donut: ~You get a bullet, and you get bullet, and you get a bullet, we all get bullets! Grif:Sorry!

Back to the Blues

Tucker: Was I hearing things or did Simmon's just said we stole their rifle? Caboose: We did? Church: No we didn't! Those assholes left it here! Tucker: Okay, thing's are starting to get a little confusing. Church: Hey, dumbassess! We didn't steal you're rifle!

Back to Simmons and Grif

Girf: Agh, crap. They heard us! Don't just sit there, keep 'em quiet before Donut hears them! Simmons: Got it! Hey, Blues! Here' something you should've steal!

Simmons takes a frag grenade. As they got close enough, Simmons pulls the pin and throws the grenade high to land on the roof.

TICK TAK!

Even with the sound of gunfire from the gattling gun, they were able to clearly hear the sound of dropping by a light object. They slowly looked to the source to see a horrifying sight of an unpinned grenade right in front of of their visors!

Tucker: Aw shit. Church: JESUS CHRIST!!! What the- Caboose!

Caboose, without warning, quickly gets up and grabs the grenade. He rushes to the edge but instead of throwing it out, he throws the grenade up into the air before grabbing the mystery rifle that had been left lying on the floor.

Caboose: Get away from Michael J. Caboose and friends you big bullies!!!

As the grenade fall in the air, Caboose smacks the ball with the rifle once it drops in front of him like a baseball player trying to hit homerun! With his inhumane strength, the grenade is launched with such extreme velocity that it almost went into lightspeed flying straight to an unsuspecting Donut who is still firing while also being distracted by the enemies base's terrible condition.

Donut: My God, the Blue's base could use some- huh?

The high speed grenade hits the Red's helmet, so fast that it creates a dent deep enough for the grenade to get stuck into his helm. His energy shielding was able to save his skull from shattering into pieces, but impact was still enough to knock Donut into a daze.

Donut: Oh, pretty lights... hohohooo!

Donut not only begins to loose his consciouness, but also the gun he is firing. His finger's still pulling the trigger! The weight of his unconscious body pushes the still firing gun causing it to aim lower and unintentionally shooting at the Warthog's dashboard. Grif and Simmons cried out in genuine terror by what's happening between them.

Grif: DONUT, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! THE BLUES, NOT US! Simmons: LOOK OUT!!!

Grif turns back to the front. They're heading right to the Blue's wall! He quickly slammed on the breaks but was too late as the Warthog crashes onto the concrete wall. The crash caught the Blue's attention. They looked down from the roof and witnessed the accident that had befallen on the Reds.

Church: Caboose... that was the most epic thing I have ever seen in my life. Caboose: Neat! Grif: *Groaning* Simmons: Grif? Grif: Yeah? Simmons: I hate you. Is Donut okay?

Both looked at Donut now lying on the gattling gun before spotting a grenade stuck on his pjnk helmet! Simmons and Grif screeched in horror, fearing that the small ordnance would explode at any moment. But a second passed, it didn't.

Grif: Why didn't it explode? Simmons: I think it misfired. Grif: Well that's terrific! How do we pry it out of him? Church: Okay, nobody move! Simmons: Uh, Grif? Grif: Huh? Oh shit.

Simmons and Grif looked up to see the Blue's pointing their guns at them from the roof. And Caboose is holding Crescent Rose. How ironic for the very weapon they stole and used to be pointing right above them.

Grif: Wait, don't shoot! If you wanna shoot someone, shoot Simmons! Simmons: No shoot, Grif. He caused this accident! Church: We're not shooting anyone. Grif: Oh thank God. Church: You're gonna tell us why you think we stole you're rifle and more importantly, why was it in our base this morning! Grif: You should've kept quiet. Simmons: Shut up, fatass.

Back at the Red Base

Through the binoculars, Sarge is very disgruntled to sees his own men pathetically tied up and taken hostage by the Blues.

Sarge: Dagnabbit dammit! They failed me, Lopez! They failed me! Lopez: Todo esto por un solo rifle. Que desperdicio. Deberíamos haber esperado la noche y colarnos en su base para rescatarla. Sarge: If we don't bring it back soon, they'll begin the reverse engineering process! There's only one person we can now rely on. Lopez: ¿Crees que el demonio se va a manejar sola? Sarge: Not me, someone has to be in Command.

Sarge contacts Ruby through the comms.

Sarge: Rose, are you ready?

Sarge hears nothing but heavy breathing and weapons loading up through the comms. He doesn't what's going on through the other, but he can tell Ruby's getting ready.

Sarge: I'd say that's a yes.

Back at the Blue Base (again)

Caboose and Tucker looked down at Donut's unconscious body to make sure he doesn't wake up, but the main attraction is the grenade stuck on his head. This is the second time Donut had one stuck on his head.

Tucker: Okay, what you did was seriously over the top awesome. By the way, how did you know the grenade misfired? Caboose: The grenade didn't miss, it already landed on his head.

Leaving with their discussion, we move to Church procceding with the interrogation of the Reds. He wants answers, now!

Church: Alright, you got ten seconds to explain everything or I'll shoot you both in the face! Grif: Question are you going to shoot us with a shotgun? Church: No just this Magnum. Yes, Simmons? Simmons: Hate to break it to you, but the bullet in that thing can't penetrate my metal skull. Church: Then I'll shoot you through eyes! Now talk! Grif: Okay okay! But first make sure Donut doesn't wake up. Donut: Ugh, what happened?

Just when Donut was about to regain consciouness, Caboose smacked him right on the head, knocking him out again.

Caboose: Good night! Grif: That works too. Simmons: Donut doesn't know what we both did, but it's best to keep it that way. Church: Don't know about what? Simmons: You want the short or the long story? Church: As long as you punks talk. Simmons: Long story it is... GASP!

Several minutes of explanations and reactions later

Church is not happy after hearing the two Red's entire story. Hearing this revelation made him want to shoot them in their faces right now but he's got plans for them.

Church: So it was you idiots who caused all this mess!!! Grif: Blame the genius here, I'm just a gun tester. Simmons: You're the one who decided this base is the perfect target! Grif: You also decided to keep it here just to frame the Blue's. Simmons: All because you don't want a few shells on your face! Church: That's enough you two! I don't care who did it first, I'm still holding you both responsible for this! Grif: Of course we are. So can you untie us now, cause I gotta get back to take a nap for my Oreo binge tonight. Church: No way, I'm not letting you both go while this base is in a state like this! Grif: What? Simmons: Wait, you're not saying- Church: While you're our imprisoners, I got a perfect job for you two! Grif: Hold on, you want us to fill up every bullet hole here? Yeah, but no thanks. Simmons: We really need to get back to base before Donut wakes up. Church: Or maybe I'll just tell Sarge everything about this and tell him there's been a big misunderstanding.

Simmons and Grif looked at each other for a moment before turning back to Church.

Simmons: On the second thought, I think a bit of manual labor doesn't hurt at all. Grif: Yeah, working hard does give a guy good rewards. Hehehe, ...SNIFF... huhuhuh... just.. don't tell Sarge okay? Church: Good. But what about Donut? Simmons: Well you can bring him back along with the rifle. Also write a letter that in exchange for them, you'll have us as your prisoners for a while. Church: Then it's a deal! Wait here you two, while I bring back the...

Before Church could get the stuff so that the Red prisoners could start working, he spots something from afar.

Church: Uhm, before you guys start working. Let me ask you one more question. Simmons: Fine, what is it? Church: Who the fuck is that?

Church points at the field. Both the Reds turn their heads to what he's looking at. From the distance, it looks like someone's riding on a bike. They could see the rider clearly from here. It is a Red wearing a long crimson cape riding on the Red's mongoose. With him is an arsenal containing a M41 SSR MAV/AW rocket launcher on his shoulder and a MA5B assault rifle hanging behind his back. He can't tell if he's imagining things, but are those red lights shining through his visor?!

Grif: Wait, is that Sarge? Simmons: Sarge doesn't wear capes. Grif: Oh it's Rose. What help can a snotty nosed brat like her do anyway? Church: Who's Rose? Tucker: YES!!! I knew she's a chick!

Then the Red makes a move. She aims the rocket launcher high and fires two barrages of rockets out of it. The rockets are flying in arc aand heading their way down to the Blue base! All have noticed the incoming projectiles coming towards them and jump to the sides before they made impact. The explosion of the rockets creates a massive hole in the roof, revealing the base's interior. Simmons gets up and shouts angrily at his teammate.

Simmons: CUT IT OUT YOU STUPID BITCH! YOU'RE GONNA MAKE OUR JOBS WORSE!!! Church: Now you know how we felt. Caboose, I got another target practice for you. Another Red duck! Caboose: Duck hunting time!

Caboose takes position and steadily aims at the incoming Red. Once the enemy is in his crosshairs, Caboose prepares to fire.

Caboose: Bye bye ducky!

One pull of the trigger. Nothing happened.

Caboose: Huh? Church: What are you waiting for? Fire!

Caboose tries again. The gun still refuses to fire the target!

Caboose: Church. What do you call when something's not working? Church: 'Not functioning', why? Caboose: Rifle's not functioning. Church: What?!?! Caboose: It won't fire! See!

Caboose turns back to Church. He pulls the trigger to show Church that it couldn't fire at all. That is when a massive blast of muzzle emmitted through the barrel right in front of the armored Aqua, shooting him right in the stomach! Church, now in ghost form, witnesses his cold dead body drop down onto the concrete floor. Church stood still, trying to resist the explosive anger within him.

Caboose: Oh nevermind it's... Church: Don't... say... A FUCKING... word...

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

[wombathos]

the lawyer, the witch and the minotaur

Here’s my 2018 Buffyverse Secret Santa gift for @aesthetically-turnt - because I just got really carried away with the concept of a Lilah/Tara pairing (thanks for that prompt). Merry Christmas, and hope you enjoy!

12.5k words, read here on Ao3 or below the cut.

The thing is…

The thing is that Tara has been dead for a while. All things considered, it’s not too bad. Well, she would rather not be dead. Wouldn’t most people? And she had been quite young. And it had all been so very sudden, with Tara standing in the room with Willow - her Willow, reconciled and happy and whole for the first time in forever. She had felt the bullet, in a weird, disembodied kind of way. Thinking back, she wonders whether she had died the moment the bullet impacted. There was an after-bullet: in a vague sort of way she can remember falling down and Willow being there and weeping, but all the pain she would imagine came with a bullet just kind of… didn’t.

And then she was dead.

But now, it’s all soft. And comforting, because there’s nothing here too hurt her. It’s not as much fun as being alive was. It doesn’t hurt either, which is nice. She doesn’t understand exactly what this is, where she is and where she’s going. If she’s going anywhere. There are no gates, no old white guy with a beard. No demons and hellfire either, which she’s sure would come as a surprise to some people. But it is peaceful, and she is grateful for that.

She does miss Willow, though. She hopes that everything turned out all right. Then again, Willow never needed anyone, least of all Tara, to protect her.

***

The thing is that all of this changed. Much like being wrenched out of life in the first place, this is sudden too. That vague nothingness that had surrounded Tara became something - and it’s hard to explain because there isn’t really anything to look at. No swirl of colours, no white blankness either. But now, the nothingness has solidified. It has become a door.

And Tara sees it, even though there shouldn’t really be a Tara who is able to see it. It’s all very confusing, but the door somehow has shifted her perspective. As if the door being something, that forces her to be something too. And she’s staring at the door. Because she can see it. She can see.

That’s when the door opens. That’s when Tara sees the woman standing there, dressed in what she imagines to be quite a fancy suit, with a mane of brown hair falling down and curling up again, looking distinctly unruffled as if this is something she does every day when she stretches out a hand into the nothingness and the shiny pink lips stretch out into a smile.

“Come on then. I don’t have all day.”

***

The thing is, Tara doesn’t know exactly how she ended up on the other side of the door. She looks have a body to cross through the door, for starters. She’s also not sure whether it is her choice. Did she accept the hand? She finds herself staring down at perfectly manicured nails, that hand grasping another one which she ends up recognising as her own. Does that means she chose to go through? Or did the woman pull her through?

“Merry Christmas, Miss Maclay.”

Tara stares at the woman. And she stares some more. And then she reaches for the only word she can think of.

“Huh?”

***

“I suppose it’s arguable whether it’s actually Christmas if you’re dead,” says the woman in a conversational tone as she looks Tara up and down.

Which means… there is a Tara to look at. Tara looks down, takes in grey denim and a thin blue jumper. She was wearing this… She reaches up to her heart, draws her finger away. It is stained red.

“Yes, that is rather unpleasant,” says the woman. “Considering all of this is only corporeal in the very loosest of senses, I suppose you should be able to change that. Focus hard, or something. Isn’t that something witches are meant to be good at? Psychic projection and whatnot?”

“What is this?”

The woman’s smirk broadens. “Good to see you still have some sense about you. It makes all of this easier.”

“What - Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

A titter. “And polite too! It really is Christmas.” The woman adjusts her scarf - soft and purple and carefully wrapped around her neck - seemingly content to make Tara wait just a little longer for anything approaching a proper answer. “Let’s see then. Well, first of all, you’re dead. Now I know this may come as a shock -“

“I know that,” says Tara. “I meant, what is -“ She gestures around her. She gazes around her to see what looks suspiciously like a corridor. “This.”

The woman blinks. “That was easier than I expected. I really thought we’d take longer to get over the whole ‘death’ thing but I guess we can skip straight to the bit where you help me out and then get to go back to whatever you were doing.”

“I - what?”

“You help me out,” repeats the woman, slowly. “Do the world a service, that kind of thing. There’s a few benefits you can secure, too, in terms of insurance against paranormal incursions on your regular death experience. If you’d feel more comfortable signing a contract, then I have several papers prepared too.”

“A contract?” says Tara, able to feel her brain gradually dissolve.

The woman produces a leather bag which she definitely hadn’t had a second earlier and pulls out a thick wad of papers. “Yep. All in order.”

She holds them out. Tara does not accept and instead simply stares at the papers, then at the stranger again.

The woman rolls her eyes. “Oh, there’s no clauses that involve selling your soul or anything. That’s what people always worry about, which is a reasonable thing to worry about but really isn’t necessary. But it’s just to formalise the arrangement, show you what you’re going to get out of it and that you’ll be returned back safely. We can always continue without.”

“Who are you?”

The answering grin is all teeth, some unnerving combination of cocky and dangerous. “Lilah Morgan, attorney at law. Well… I was, anyway.”

***

The thing is, Tara had not expected - as far as she had been expecting anything at all - to be bailed out of limbo or heaven or whatever it had been by a lawyer, of all people. And this lawyer isn’t making a lot of sense: when you’ve just been wrenched back into some sort of a manifestation of a physical reality after an indeterminate time in an inexplicable void, it takes you a little time to be ready to deal with things like contracts again.

Tara isn’t at her best right now. So when the woman - Lilah - tells her to follow her, she does so, without really thinking about it. They are walking along what is indeed some kind of a corridor, bleak with no particularly interesting features that distinguish it from normal corridors of the sort one would come across in the land of the living.

“I’m confused,” says Tara, unnecessarily.

The woman considers her with an air of patience. “That’s understandable. I imagine it’ll take you a bit to wrap your head around all the details.”

Tara is less worried about the ‘details’ than she is about the ‘what the hell is going on’ bit, but she declines to mention this.

“What is this place?”

“I suppose you could call it the afterlife,” says Lilah. “Though that term isn’t particularly useful in an explanatory sense, is it? You are dead, after all. This is after life by definition.”

Tara blinks a few times. “You’re right. It isn’t helpful.”

The woman seems to find this funny. Tara doesn’t.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To a connection point, of sorts. The closest place - well not place since none of this is geographically construed in the regular sense but you know what I mean - to the real world, if you will.”

“You want to… to bring me back?”

“Oh. Well, no. Sorry,” she says, looking genuinely apologetic. A little, anyway. “No, it’s more that we need a place to get the connection straight, so to speak. Give an access to whoever might need it. I’m a little vague on the details myself, if I’m being honest. All I know is that I need to get you there.”

“Why?”

“Long story.”

“I have time.”

Lilah laughs. She seems to do that a lot. “It doesn’t really matter. Come on, we still have quite a way to walk.”

***

But that really isn’t good enough, Tara decides after a few minutes.

She stops.

It takes Lilah a moment to notice, but then she turns around to look back at Tara.

“Is something the matter?”

“What do you want?” asks Tara, deciding to get to the crux of the matter.

Lilah gives her an odd look. “I told you -“

“I want an explanation.”

The odd look deepens, and Tara thinks Lilah might be surprised. After a moment, she sighs.

“Come on, I’ll explain as we walk.”

“No,” says Tara, and saying the word makes it feel like something important has returned to her. She doesn’t know what it is and it probably doesn’t make any sense, but it makes her feel more like herself again. “Explain to me first what you want.”

“Fine,” says Lilah with a shrug that is just a little too casual for Tara’s liking. “I want to undo a spell. Or rather, my employers want to undo one, though for all intents and purposes it’s quite the same thing.”

“A spell?” repeats Tara, unsure of what she had been expecting. “You want to use my magic?”

“I’m not here for your power, I’m afraid,” says Lilah. “Oh, it’s considerable. Don’t get me wrong. Just, in this particular instance, it’s your link to a particular hotheaded force of nature that has gotten the attention of the folks on top.”

Willow.

“What do you want from her?” asks Tara, feeling her fists curl up into tight balls. No way is this woman getting Tara to do anything that would in any way -

“You’re linked. Magically, I mean. She summoned up a great deal of dark magic trying to get you back -“

“She did what?”

“- which kind of leaves its mark. Well, yes. And then went on a bit of a rampage, from what I hear. Anyways, she then went on to do a very specific spell with a whole bunch of consequences which I need you to undo.”

Tara’s mind is still reeling from all this jarring new information so she seizes on to one of the few things she is reasonably sure of. “You can’t just undo spells that have already happened. That’s not how magic works.”

“Not with the living it might not. Here, however? Things are a little more flexible. See, we’re not so much undoing it as making sure that it never happens in the first place.” Lilah winks. “I’ll explain more if you come along.”

She starts walking again and Tara seriously considers for a moment turning around and letting this strange and quite possibly malicious woman wander off on her own. But where would she go? Tara groans quietly, well aware that she simply does not know enough yet. So she follows the woman again, determined to get at the answers she needs.

***

It’s not easy getting anything useful out of the woman, but there’s another quite crucial question that really needs answering.

“Why would I help you?” asks Tara. Because she’s getting quite close to turning around, out of frustration if nothing else. They are still in the corridor, which feels unending. Maybe it is.

“Kindness of your heart?”

Tara just looks at her.

Lilah smirks. “Fine, then. If you want to be all difficult about it…”

“Then what?”

“Then I could always ask you what else precisely you’re intending on doing. You didn’t seem to be very busy.”

“And if I told you I’m sure I’d figure something out?”

“Then I’d have to inform you that my employers rerouted you from your initial final destination - a particularly nasty hell dimension. And if you don’t cooperate… Well, let’s just say there’s some folks who’d be thrilled to have that decision revoked.”

Tara’s heart sinks. She isn’t even quite sure why. Probably because the idea of being sent to a hell dimension doesn’t sound at all appealing, but the alternative of helping a woman she really doesn’t think she should trust isn’t great either.

That’s not all, though. There’s a sense of disappointment, almost. So she had died… and she had been judged… and she had been found wanting.

Which shouldn’t be a surprise, really.

Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

“Do you know… why?” asks Tara quietly, not really expecting an answer.

“Why?” repeats Lilah, glancing at her and then giving her a harder look. “You… Oh, it wasn’t because of anything you did, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“It wasn’t?”

Lilah laughs, but trails off at the expression on Tara’s face. “You’re… Look, from everything I’ve heard you were… you know, good. It’s just because of what I said earlier, about your girlfriend using a hell of a lot of very dark stuff to try to suck you back to the material realm. It leaves a mark, and it left one on you too. She summoned powerful demons and did her best to piss them off. When she failed… they were ready to take their revenge.”

If anything, this makes Tara feel worse, as the cold realisation burns her, creeping into her lungs and scratching at the back of her throat. The idea that Willow - her Willow - might have accidentally damned her is too horrible to seriously contemplate. So she takes the only avenue open to her: denial.

“You’re lying.”

The lawyer smirks at her, before shaking her head. “I can’t lie,” she says. “Literally, cannot. I don’t know what it is about this place, but somehow the rules for… communication are different here. Passing on mistruths is a major no no. Makes it so much more tricky in my line of work, I can tell you.”

This is not what Tara wants to hears. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Many things don’t. Sometimes they don’t have to, as long as the overall story works. So accept it and move on.”

“You could be lying about… not - not lying.”

“Right.”

“How do I know you’re not?”

“You could always try lying yourself.”

This strikes Tara as a good idea and she’s irritated at herself for not coming up with it. Given the circumstances, perhaps it is understandable. “I am -“ she starts, then cuts off. She physically cannot bring herself to say the word ‘alive’. It is more than a little disconcerting.

Lilah looks smug. “See? Told you.”

“How do I know it’s affecting both of us?” asks Tara. “For all I know, it’s only me who’s stuck truth-telling while you’re free to lie however you please.”

“You’ll just have to trust me, I suppose,” says Lilah, then chuckles at Tara’s expression. “Even if you don’t think you were headed there already, trust me on this: you will be sent to a hell dimension if you follow me. Just a small job, then you have the rest of forever.”

Tara is about to ask more questions, but Lilah instantly cuts her off, pointing at a door.

“See that?”

She does, but just stares at it before answering. The corridor, that expanse of boring nothingness she had almost believed would end forever, ends there. “Where does it lead?” she asks, not sure if she really wants to know.

“Depends,” says Lilah. She hasn’t stopped walking and they’re getting steadily closer to the door. “Hell, if you head the wrong way.”

“Hell?”

“The underworld proper. When you were… diverted, you were sent to a sort of limbo zone. Thing is, it’s buried pretty deep. Not deep in a geographic sense, mind.”

“But you’re taking me to hell.”

“Hopefully not. There are shortcuts, ways to skip most of it. And on the other end, a connection point. Which is all we need.”

Tara is not following any of this but she doesn’t have time to get any answers, because now they’re at the door. Lilah stretches out her hand to grasp at the handle - which looks all cheap and plastic-y and not particularly important or hellish - before turning around and winking at Tara.

“This should be fun.”

She wrenches the door open.

***

There’s a gust of wind that ruffles their hair when Tara steps through into a kind of cave. She looks around. It’s badly lit, but she heads to the first thing that catches her eye.

A plain wooden door marked with a ‘2’ that shines with an odd green light Tara might have described as neon.

“Not that one,” says Lilah. “Definitely not that one.”

Something in her tone of voice makes Tara back away a bit, and she follows Lilah to an even more unassuming gap in the corner of the chamber. There’s no door, just a place where the stone looks a bit crumbly and the light doesn’t reach. Tara probably wouldn’t even have noticed it.

But before they can slip through the gap, someone appears.

***

He looks like a teenage boy with wild, faintly greasy black hair. His jeans are all ripped up and he resembles a million similar specimen Tara has run into over the years, but he’s wearing a rather silly Christmas jumper with a big, smiling reindeer on it accompanied by the words ‘Jingle Beelz’.

Lilah looks like she’s suppressing a grin. “Hello, Beelzebub.”

Tara makes a small choking sound. When the boy looks at her, she got out - “Beelzebub?”

“What, not live up to your expectations?” asks the boy in an ill-tempered way.

“Eh…”

The boy glares at her. “Go on, then, have a laugh.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she says, quite honestly.

“Oh, I’ve heard it all before.” He grimaces. “It’s bad enough to be stuck in customs for three hundred years without having that arse Mephistopheles deciding that what we really need is another infernal human celebration. What is the point of these jumpers anyway?”

He is looking at Tara as he said this, and Lilah is enjoying herself too much to step in. “They’re… meant to be funny?”

“Funny?” spits the boy. “What’s funny about this monstrosity? People have burnt in hellfire for thousands of years for lesser crimes of fashion.”

“Who came up with ‘Jingle Beelz’?” asks Lilah.

“Gressil,” says the boy bitterly. “And he’s so very friendly with good ol’ Meph these days, of course he thought it was hilarious. Oh, never mind. It’s not like I care what a couple of humans think anyway. Sometimes you just need some meat to talk at, you know?”

“Indeed.”

“And wherever you think you’re going, don’t.” The boy sniffed. “Just so you know. This is as far as you get.”

“What a shame,” says Tara, about to turn around when a firm grip held her in place.

Lilah smiles sweetly at her. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve got the paperwork.”

The boy eyes them both with a frown, then groans. “Let me guess. Wolfram and Hart?”

“Yes. We met a few years back, actually - at a gala. Don’t think you’d remember… So if you’d just take a look at the file -“

“I’m afraid we’re not able to take requests just at this moment,” the boy intones. “It’s Christmas Eve, you see. Come back, new year of 2103 and I’m sure somebody will be able to process your request.”

“We have a right for audience, especially since you don’t get leave for human holidays,” says Lilah, still smiling at the demon.

The boy gives her a rueful look. “What if we’ve changed the rules?”

“You haven’t. Unless you want me to contact my employers -“

“Fine,” snaps the boy, taking the papers from her. “Thousands of years building up a reputation for leading men astray through their pride and gluttony and then I’m banished here for a simple misdemeanour just to set an example,” he mutters as he flips through them. “I missed the entire industrial revolution, for crying out loud. The demons they send down these days barely make any effort… Don’t even really care about humans…” He looks up, gaze settling on Tara. “You’re a human, aren’t you? Surely, you’d want the demon exploiting your deadly sins and leading your species to its own damnation to really have put some time and effort into the whole thing, right? You’d want someone who actually knows about the societies they’re ruining, right?”

“Eh…” says Tara, not feeling like she is going to get any more articulate any time soon. “Yeah?”

“Exactly. Well, this request is ridiculous. The human died, she’s serving out her RDE. And I’ll note that Wolfram and Hart already got a request through to redirect her from a hell dimension.”

“Like I told you,” mutters Lilah to Tara. To the boy, she says - “This is a short-term engagement. Besides, my employers only brought her here in case they needed her again.”

“That’s not my problem. Rules are rules. I’d be better disposed to your case if you hadn’t already gotten special waivers. Besides, she’s a witch and they don’t ever do anything else than burrow away at the veil between life and death, causing the rest of us no end of trouble. As I once said to my good friend James, a living witch is nothing but trouble.”

“I don’t want to bring her back to life.”

“But you want to bring her into contact with the living. A magical link to a witch? Sounds dreadful.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

The boy snorts. “I very much doubt that. This witch… Willow Rosenberg? Oh yes, I remember her. All sorts of dark magic about this one, seems determined to rip out every dead soul one by one. Awfully blunt about it, too. If you’re trying to sacrifice her then good luck with that, but otherwise…”

“No!” exclaims Tara.

The boy’s dispassionate gaze fixed on her for a moment before he looks back at the file. “Mind you, I did get a taboo-breaker a few years back where she invoked my name… Nothing real, I’m afraid, so I couldn’t actually do anything about it but she did say ‘I worship Beelzebub’ which was rather nice of her… Still, there’s no way I can allow this. So if you could just leave….”

“And what will you put down as your reason for denying the request?” asks Lilah.

Tara suddenly wonders whether squabbling about paperwork with a demon is something this woman does regularly, and then decided that it probably is.

“I don’t need to put a reason,” says the boy. “I made the decision, and that’s that.”

“Actually, you need to make an official declaration. So that we can try to have it overruled.”

There was a moment of silence as the boy considers Lilah with narrowed eyes.

“Do you want to be tortured for all eternity?”

“My soul isn’t up for grabs.”

The boy raises his eyebrows.

“Standard perpetuity clause.”

“Oh, how irritatingly human of you. I don’t actually need your immortal soul, you know - I’m not Mephistopheles. I’d just ram in some hot pokers, cut out your tongue, make your listen to Daft Punk all day. That sort of thing.”

“What’s wrong with Daft Punk?” asks Tara.

The demon looks a little taken aback by the question, but then shrugs. “Nothing, I’m sure. But this one doesn’t like them, so it’s part of the routine.”

Tara looks at Lilah, who shrugs in an apologetic sort of way.

“I just think they’re a bit irritating.”

“Right,” says Tara. She turned to the boy. “And you know her taste in music?”

“I know how to torture her,” he says, sounding increasingly irritable again. “What kind of demon do you think I am?”

“Of course,” she says weakly, pretending like this made sense.

“The point is,” says Lilah, “we have papers. And if you want an inquiry, I can make your life to hell, pun absolutely intended.” That earns her a particularly vicious glare from the demon. “So unless you want to stick around customs for another few centuries, by which time humans will probably already have managed to destroy themselves…” She trails off, voice laden with implications.

Beelzebub glares at her some more. But somehow, that is that.

***

The gap doesn’t lead to some spectacular hell-scape. Instead, it’s more corridor for them.

Tara is almost glad, because she’s not sure she can process anything else just now.

“Are you all right?” asks Lilah, sounding amused.

Tara can’t immediately reply, so settles for nodding.

They walk in silence for a few minutes.

“What was he?”

“Beelzebub? A demon.”

“But he -“

“Not just any old demon. One of the archdemons. I suppose you’d call them Old Ones.”

Tara exhales sharply, earning her another amused look from Lilah.

“Not bad, right?”

“He doesn’t look it. And surely I would’ve heard -“

“He’s been grounded, remember? Trust me, he thinks customs is -“

“But he looked -“

“- beneath him too. Yes, well, some of these demon types enjoy looking ordinary. Side effect of being extraordinarily powerful is that you don’t need to boast about it. The ones that look entirely ordinary? They’re the really dangerous ones.”

Tara thinks about all the demons and other assorted evil she’d faced over the years, and can’t help but think that the scary-looking ones had been dangerous enough already. Then, a new troubling thought strikes her. “What exactly is powerful enough to ground an Old One?”

Lilah shrugs. “They do have their own system, you know. Beelzebub has always been a bit of a rule-breaker, from what I’ve heard. He must have done something to irritate the others enough to keep him confined here.”

This makes sense, but is quickly followed by a new, equally unsettling, thought. “But if you were able to get past him…” A lump formed in her throat. “Who exactly did you say your employers were?”

Lilah’s mouth quirks but she doesn’t answer.

“Wolfram and Hart,” repeats Tara. She has never heard of it, though that doesn’t have to mean much. “Are you -“ She breaks off, incredibly irritated at herself for not having considered this quite obvious possibility earlier. It’s just that Lilah looks so ordinary and…

“Very much human, I assure you,” says Lilah. “Unlike my employers.”

“They’re demons?” A beat. “Old Ones?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re working for demons?”

“Haven’t we all,” says Lilah airily. “They’re not all bad, you know.”

“Old Ones are.”

“But they offer an excellent pension. If you survive to enjoy it.” She chuckles.

“So why didn’t they get me myself? Why send you?”

“Because,” says Lilah, “we’re not quite back to the land of the living yet. This place - I suppose you could call it a limbo. Come and go, in between, here and there and everywhere.” She laughs. “They didn’t have enough power to wrench you back just like that, you see. Now me, I can move a little more freely. Advantages of being undead.”

Undead.

She shouldn’t be surprised. But she is.

***

The thing is, Tara still isn’t quite herself. That’s why she has followed the lawyer down a winding path that is leading to some mysterious new location without protesting. She’s taking way too long to process information.

The corridor is changing, too. Gradually, it’s shifting away from the bland and bleak faux-office design to something quite different. Pebbles are appearing on the ground with increasing frequency and the walls on either side are becoming less smooth, with the occasional rougher stone or protruding rock shedding dust that worms its way up Tara’s nose and makes her want to sneeze. She hasn’t sneezed for a long time.

It’s hard to focus, with everything going on. Easier just to follow this lawyer. But Tara has heard enough to make her uneasy - deeply so.

There are two facts that matter right now.

One: Lilah wants her to undo a spell cast by Willow.

Two: Lilah is working for Old Ones.

It’s been a while since she’s had to make moral judgements, but as far as she is concerned Willow is good and the Old Ones are very much bad, which is what makes all of this so very worrying.

Of course, there’s also Three: If Tara doesn’t help Lilah, she’ll be sent to a hell dimension.

Maybe that isn’t true. Maybe it is just some elaborate con. Then again, the same could be said about her other two ‘facts’, whatever Lilah might say about her inability to lie. All she has is Lilah’s word for any of those things.

But it’s all she has. And if they’re true…

She can’t worry about Fact 3 now. It’s Facts 1 and 2 that need to be her more immediate concern. And once again, she finds herself in dire need of more information.

The path has turned decidedly rocky by the time Tara has prepared herself for another attempt.

“What kind of spell do you need me to undo?” she asks, trying to sound casual.

Lilah gives her a very tired look, and Tara can’t help but think this is turning into a long day for both of them.

But that’s how Christmas usually works, she supposes.

“Here’s the thing. Your witchling put some powerful voodoo into the world and has shaped her own brave new world. She gave every little girl out there who had the potential to be a slayer the power. No more ‘in each generation, one is born’. Now, there’s hundreds - possibly thousands - of the little brats running around, carving stakes like there’s no tomorrow. Which there might not be, if we’re being honest.”

“Willow… did what?”

“Oh, there’s some reason, I’m sure. Some primal evil or other - isn’t there always? Still, it’s caused an awful mess, of the kind my employers aren’t at all happy about.”

“Why?”

“All those girls, running around and making trouble? Killing things left and right? Just between ourselves, all these clients being slaughtered just isn’t good for business.”

That certainly sounds honest to Tara, and she isn’t liking it one bit. “I need to turn back.”

Lilah sighs. “Are you going to be difficult this entire trip?” She shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. What part of ‘you’ll get sent to a hell dimension’ do you not understand?”

“I’m not going to help you! You’re just doing it for the benefit of evil demons -”

“I never disputed that,” says Lilah. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t have benefits too.” She smirks. “Can’t lie, remember?”

“First off, I still don’t know whether I can actually believe you. And there’s a huge gap between benefits and this is a good idea.”

The lawyer laughs. It almost sounds genuine. “Good point. All right - this is a good idea.”

“Vague,” protests Tara, weakly. But she can feel doubts niggling at her. Because if what Lilah says is true… Well, it sounds insane. But Willow has done insane things in the past. And it’s so hard to figure any of this out, and a part of her is horribly afraid that Willow has done something incredibly stupid in a way that makes her feel deeply ashamed.

Lilah can see all of this on her face, of course. Which is why she keeps walking with a smirk on her face that is growing far too familiar.

***

She’s still thinking when music starts blaring all around them - electronic and sounding suspiciously familiar to Tara.

She looks around, trying to figure out where it is coming from, but it seemed to be all around them.

Lilah groans.

Tara is still confused by this odd turn of events when a man started singing.

One more time.

One more time.

“Hilarious,” Lilah mutters.

One more time we’re gonna celebrate.

Tara tried not to laugh. “Daft Punk.”

Oh yeah all right don’t stop the dancing.

Lilah shoots her a dirty look. “You won’t think this is so funny after several hours.”

“Several hours?”

“What, do you think it’ll just play once and then be fine? Demons might not be able to stop us but they can certainly irritate us, so get ready to become very familiar with the lyrics of  ‘Harder Better Faster Stronger’.”

“But… why? Surely they can’t think we’ll turn back because they’re playing irritating music?”

Lilah looks at her blankly. “They’re demons. Sure, sometimes they try to win our souls and damn our species, but mostly they’re just quite petty.”

They continue walking as the singer croons One more time for the eighth time.

***

The path is entirely rocky by the time it opens into some sort of cavern. Tara sees the ground drop off below them a few feet ahead, except where it continues on along a narrow, closed off path.

It’s like a bridge. A bridge over hell, with glass on either side separating them from what lies below. It’s all so bizarre - this oddly artificial gap to the chaos outside as they continue over metallic planks, dull lightbulbs illuminating the inside - and Tara feels like she is in a zoo of some kind. Outside of the bridge lie the enclosements, but there are no animals here. No, the shapes and the screams of the inhabitants are distressingly familiar.

Because they are screaming. Screams blending into the sound of music, so that the wail is hard to distinguish from the voice going Our work is never over.

Lilah hasn’t stopped and Tara has to almost jog to catch up to her, but she’s peering out through the glass because she just can’t help herself. It doesn’t need description, but it’s fair to say that it’s a dreadful sight.

“If it helps,” says Lilah in a conversational tone, “they’re not human.”

That makes Tara look more closely.

And she recognises the faces - well, not who they are but what, with their features distorted from those of usual humans: the brow, the sunken eyes, the teeth…

“Are those…” Tara hesitates.

“Vampires?” finishes Lilah, staring dispassionately at the faces contorted not only through screams. “Yes.”

“But I thought… aren’t their bodies separated from their souls when they’re… turned?”

“And now they’ve been reunited.”

Tara feels a horrible lurch in her stomach. “Those aren’t demons’ souls?”

“The ones making all the noise? No.”

“But then… Are the humans… They’re being punished for what the vampires did?”

“Cruel, isn’t it?” remarks Lilah, not sounding in the least bit concerned.

“That’s horrible,” says Tara. “It’s not… It isn’t fair.”

Lilah snorts and Tara looks at her in shock. At the expression, the lawyer rolls her eyes. “Calm yourself, I’m hardly disagreeing. But nothing about… well, anything, is particularly fair, is it?”

They stop talking.

Work it harder make it

Do it faster makes us

Tara finds herself listening again to the stupid song after having worked very hard to block it out. Because just then, she really needs something to distract her from the screams.

***

“This trip was more enjoyable when you were talking,” says Lilah after they’ve walked for an indeterminate amount of time through a series of hellscapes.

Tara summons a glare. “Enjoyable? How can any of this be enjoyable?”

The lawyer shrugs. “Feeling bad doesn’t actually help them, you know.”

“Is that supposed to help?” asks Tara, then winces. She’s surprised at how scathing her voice is.

Lilah gives her a look, then shrugs again. “Don’t know what helps you. I never found out what makes you… hero-types feel better.”

“I’m not a hero-type,” mutters Tara. “But I can’t just not care.”

“Can’t you?” says Lilah, expression blank. Like it is the easiest thing in the world.

“How can you justify it?” she asks, trying to get through to the woman. “They didn’t… It wasn’t them.”

“So the wrong souls get punished. It’s always that way. I suppose the folks in charge here would argue that it doesn’t mean the souls aren’t responsible for the sins of the flesh.”

“This is all…” Tara looks even know how to finish the sentence.

“Look, if it makes you feel better humanity’s downfall will come through its own sins. Demons only facilitate the process. We’re all doomed, it’ll all come to an end. Cheer up, it’s Christmas.”

But that only makes Tara fall silent again. And it makes her think.

***

Tara stops.

Lilah turns around. “What?”

“I can’t do this.”

“You can’t… what?”

“I can’t - If Willow was fighting something that evil, I can’t undo it.”

Lilah frowns, whether it’s at Tara or at the renewed blazing of ‘Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger’ she might never know. “Let’s keep going, Tara.”

“No.”

“You’ll be sent to a hell dimension. For real, this time.”

“Fine,” says Tara. “Do it. I’m not dooming everyone, I’m not betraying Willow, just to save myself.”

Lilah keeps frowning at her for several seconds before sighing. “Heroes,” she mutters. “Always rediscover their morals when you last need it.”

“I’m not a hero.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself. Look, this primal evil… Sure it’s bad. But what your girlfriend did was really bad.”

“Saving everybody? That was bad?”

“Oh, but even you know that your enchantress is the reckless kind. I’ve been told all about her - about the two of you, in fact. Didn’t she even put her little spells on you?”

“We made up.”

“And perhaps you did. But she has a history of using magic irresponsibly. Making all the girls slayers - that’s going to have consequences. Not least for the girls themselves. You know Buffy. Did she strike you as happy with her lot? And now think of all the girls out there. Targets, just like her. Your sweetheart has condemned them.”

Tara glares at her. “I’m sure they’ll deal.”

Lilah laughs quietly. “Do you really think so?” she asks. “There aren’t enough watchers in the world to supervise all of them, not least because most of them got blown up. Don’t ask,” she adds, seeing Tara’s shock. “The point is, Willow has made their lives hell. There’ve been several casualties already. Other girls who’ve gone mad. All of them have had their lives irrevocably changed - ruined, even. You can make it right.”

“She was saving the world,” says Tara stubbornly.

“Do you really think they couldn’t have come up with something else?” asks Lilah. “A better solution? Your friends are smart. But they let those girls pay the price for their plan.”

“But -“

“I’ve never pretended to be doing this for anyone except for my employers,” she interrupts. “I might be a servant of evil, but at least I’m honest about it. That doesn’t mean your friends didn’t do some serious harm, and I’m not giving you a way of undoing it. Most people don’t get that chance, you know. To do good from beyond the grave.”

“You say it’s good.”

Lilah snorts. “Are you coming or not?”

Tara hates herself because she knows Lilah has convinced her again. Because if there’s a chance that Willow has done something truly horrible… isn’t it her responsibility?

***

“Are you… dead?”

Lilah smiles thinly. “Clearly.”

“But you’re…”

“Seemingly a model of good health? I know, right? I’ve been preserved.”

Tara nods despite not understanding, which she has been doing a lot. She recalls the meeting with the demon. “Standard perpetuity clause?”

The smile widens. “Exactly. Work doesn’t end with death.”

“You mean you… have a contract that still binds you when you’re dead?” Tara is again feeling the overwhelming urge to scream.

Lilah nods, as if this is perfectly normal. Which none of this is.

One more time we’re gonna celebrate

Oh yeah all right don’t stop the dancing

“How did you die?” asks Tara, then winces at how blunt the question was.

Lilah doesn’t care, because of course she doesn’t. “Bit of a long story, actually. Was running away from a vampire, then this ancient powerful being - think Old One except technically speaking on the side of the angels except this one really wasn’t - who was possessing my ex’s former friend killed me.” She shrugs. “Not that long, maybe. Oh, and then my ex ended up chopping off my head. In all fairness, it was rather sweet of him.”

She says all of this rather airily, like it is of no great import whatsoever. But for some reason, Tara isn’t convinced. It’s just a little too casual for her liking. And there’s something about how Lilah’s staring straight ahead, how her fingers are stretched out and stiff like she’s trying not to curl her fists… Dying can’t be a pleasant experience for anyone. It certainly isn’t for Tara. And Lilah’s experience hardly sounds pleasant.

This woman is human. She had an entire life. Her career. An ex, who she had some kind of history with. There’s so many edges and snark to her that Tara had almost forgotten to be curious - but she is, now.

Why would you chop off the head of a dead person?

The bit of her mind that’s actually working supplies her with this question, and it isn’t one she can immediately come up with an answer to. Some kind of ritual? A way to end possession? But hadn’t Lilah said…

Wait…

“Your ex,” says Tara. “He… Was he trying to stop you from… coming back? As a vampire, I mean?”

Lilah looks startled by this, and her eyes narrow for a moment. But then she nods. “Heavens, you’re pretty smart, aren’t you? Yes, he was.”

“And did he succeed?”

A snort. “I’m not a vampire, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s not how the contract works.”

Then how does it work?

***

“End of the shortcut,” says Lilah with what approaches trepidation in her voice. “Now, there’s a path that takes us directly to the contact point, but first we need to get through a bit of hell first.”

Tara gives her a look.

“Just a bit,” says Lilah in a tone that tries and fails spectacularly at being reassuring. Once more, she reaches out

Tara takes another look at the scarf. And she thinks about the own blood staining her jumper. And she thinks of what Lilah said. My ex ended up chopping off my head.

Blood and gore comes as part of the territory for witches. And Tara has seen plenty of it in her time. But there’s something so sick and twisted about the whole thing that she can taste bile in her mouth.

When Lilah opens this new door, the blood and gore come rather closer.

They step through onto a plateau of some sort and when the door swings shut behind them with a loud clang, Tara realises there is nothing behind it. Instead, a few feet away, there’s a sheer cliff under an unsettlingly crimson sky.

What lay ahead of them, however, is considerably more unsettling. There is an acrid smell in the air that verges on sulphuric, and it seems to be coming from the river. It’s hard to quite make out, what with the steam gently curling from it. She steps forward to get a better look (because hey - if she’s survived this much what’s a weird river going to do) and she thinks… that the river might be burning. Constant flames of red and blue and the occasional green flare up, with the steam diffusing into the air that bore down on them like an insistent mist. Like they are both pushing against each other, constantly fighting.

But it’s not water, she realises. It’s too dark, too red for that - it runs slowly and it’s thick and is that odour -

She blanches. And then she gets very close to retching.

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” says Lilah beside her, and for once they are in perfect agreement.

***

Before they had passed through the door, they had been sheltered. Tara had seen hell. She had heard it.

But she hadn’t felt it. And she hadn’t been surrounded by it.

It surrounds her now, engulfs her, seeps into her very pores - inescapable and unbearable. There is another bridge that leads them across the river, but unlike the safety of the last one the river is boiling and spitting on either side of them. She flinches every time a drop comes too close.

The music is gone now. She very nearly misses it.

When they’ve crossed the bridge, they have to walk alongside the river as a shallow stream runs on their other side, keeping their heads down and wearily looking out for anyone to come close. Tara keeps her eyes averted from the more distant figures.

They’re getting close to the little door Lilah says will take them straight to the contact point. Of course, this is all going too smoothly.

***

Tara hears a growl and as one, the two of them whirl around.

A shadow is approaching - twice their height and looming over them - and as it takes another step the light of the burning rivers illuminates his form. His body might be shaped like that of a human but his head resembles that of a bull and he’s coming closer, ever closer -

And the monster rears before them - monstrous, face twisted into fury as the fires from the deepest pits of hell lit in its eyes, dark and writhing yet impossibly bright all at once. Its mouth opens and impossibly sharp and impossibly many teeth protruded, with a set of fangs that promise to tear into shreds anything within reach.

It pauses, reared above them, as drool drips down in front of them. Then, the minotaur frowns.

“Who are you?” it asks.

It can talk. Not in a harsh growl. The voice has a bit of a squeak, actually.

“Hello there,” says Lilah. “I’m Lilah Morgan, and this is Tara Maclay.”

“Oh,” says the minotaur, looking the closest a minotaur can to put-out. “You don’t belong here.”

“We’re just passing through,” says Lilah brightly.

“Right,” says the minotaur and gives a long-suffering sigh. It isn’t really rearing any more. “Just passing through. Well, don’t let me bother you. No one else does.”

“Could we get through here without actually… having to go all through the hell?” asks Lilah.

That earned her a baleful look from the minotaur. “You just want to skip all this?”

“It’s just that rives of fire and blood tend to do hell for the shoes.”

“Ah.”

“Stains, you know.”

“Of course.”

“So can we?”

“No.”

Tara half-watches a centaur passing. He’s muttering something about strangle them with tinsel and she decides she doesn’t need to know more.

“We’ve gone through this already earlier,” says Lilah. “My employers are Wolfram and Hart. Beelzebub agreed to us taking the fastest direct route to -“

“Beelzebub can suck it,” says the minotaur. A rock the size of a frying pan dislodges itself from the ceiling above and falls straight down at the minotaur. He steps aside, looking bored. “He’s not what he used to be if he’s just letting humans wander about.”

“We’re not just wandering about,” says Lilah. “We have all the requisite papers -“

But she’s interrupted as a winged rat swoops between them.

“Delivery coming through,” the winged rat screeches at the minotaur and the two humans. “Move along now!”

Tara stares, and somehow she still manages to be surprised as several centaurs cross the bridge with pine trees strapped to their backs. They all move aside, and she can’t help but notice that the passageway is now directly behind them. If they could just make a run for it…

“Christmas decorations?” asks Lilah in a polite sort of way.

The minotaur groans. “They keep wanting us to make our torture Christmas-related. You’d think we could get on with what we’re meant to do without randomly shoehorning in Christmas at every possible moment, but apparently that’s not the seasonal spirit.”

“What, do you impale them with the trees?” asks Tara.

She doesn’t know whether they catch the sarcasm because they both look at her like they’re both surprised and impressed (she thinks she’s getting better at interpreting the minotaur’s expressions).

“You have been hanging out with the slayer for a while, haven’t you,” mutters Lilah. “Not everything’s a stake, you know.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” says the minotaur, “but we’re using this batch to tie the victims against, then we set them on fire and have a few imps sing Christmas carols. They’re horrid at it, of course. Thing is, pines are far too flammable - usually you’d want a more slow-burning experience. As always, the aesthetic is coming before the practicality.”

“Dreadful,” says Lilah with sympathy. “Now, about letting us through…”

“I said no,” says the minotaur.

“We have the proper documentation -“

“I don’t care about your papers. You’ve come here, and you should have been prepared for the consequences.”

Consequences?

“There’s nothing you can do to us,” says Lilah, slowly. “Wolfram and Hart -“

The minotaur laughs. “They have no power here. You were foolish to come. More foolish still to believe you could get away again. And now” - he leers at them - “you will join the others.”

He takes a single step forwards and swipes at Lilah. She shrieks as she flies back and lands heavily on the floor. And he advances towards her, fangs in full view again.

Tara doesn’t know why she steps between them.

But she does.

She reaches for the power she has felt all her life. Instinct, she supposes: she has no reason to believe that it’ll work here. Tara flexes her fingers and juts out her palm, muttering a syllable. There’s a tug inside her, somewhere close to her gut, and the warmth curls around before spreading outwards. She knows it’s there even before she sees its effects: the demon flying back.

It lands - hard - against the stone wall. The smell of sulphur is thicker than ever in the air and it’s making Tara feel faint. She tries to steady herself - she really doesn’t want to fall into the river to her side. Lilah’s still on the ground, the soles of her shoes sliding on the slick stones stained red at the riverbed. Tara starts coughing and even as her eyes tear up she can see the minotaur raising itself again. She looks around desperately, struggling to see through the tears and the mist that is now tinged red. The way out is still behind them, and whatever her worries about going on with this mad mission she’s not exactly got a lot of choice right now.

But Lilah’s still lying on the ground. Tara runs to her, terrified the lawyer has lost consciousness.

She hasn’t.

Lilah stares at her, eyes wide open, and (genuine) shock on her face. Tara holds out her hand, because what else can she do?

“Come on, then.”

The lawyer keeps staring for a moment, but then grabs it. Tara pulls her up, with only a little difficulty.

They start running as rocks fall from the ceiling behind them. Completely blocking them off, keeping them away from the minotaur. Which would be great if they weren’t in serious danger of being crushed.

One stone sets of another, and the ceiling above is crumbling. There’s an opening ahead but the path is caving in way too fast and Tara has to drag Lilah behind her, refusing to let go. With a last burst of strength that is half magic and half muscle, she throws Lilah ahead off her into the cavern. The lawyer falls hard but safe.

For a horrible second, Tara doesn’t think she’s going to make it. But a last, desperate leap takes her into the cavern and she falls forward before managing to drag her legs out of the way of the falling rocks.

She quickly gets up and looks around. The opening barely deserves the term - but the rocks are a slightly different colour. Beige. And no rocks are falling here. It doesn’t look stable, but the path ahead isn’t currently trying to kill them. So she pushes Lilah ahead of her into the wider path.

Lilah isn’t moving fast. Even though there could be something els here that’s trying to kill them. It’s agonising.

But also exhilarating. Tara has missed being frightened.

***

Tara wants to go on, but Lilah is slowing down.

“Just… let me catch my breath,” she says. She leans against the wall, looking more dishevelled than she has been by anything else, but casts her an almost sly look. “That was pretty brave of you.”

“Yeah, well,” says Tara. “Just kind of happened.”

“Uh huh,” says Lilah. The smirk has returned, but it’s softer this time. She places the palm of one hand against the wall, still steadying herself but pushing off. After a moment of stillness, she almost falls forward and stretches out the other hand, landing against Tara with her fingers closing around her forearm. Tara stumbles - if Lilah had let herself go with her full weight she would surely have fallen. But her movements are far too careful, too deliberate for that. Instead, she leans into Tara, pressing against her closely. She smells of expensive perfume but sulphur clings to her hair and that hair is suddenly in Tara’s face, making her want to gag. But she doesn’t, instead watching as Tara’s lidded eyebrows hide her eyes before her head gradually tilts upwards. She doesn’t do anything as those big eyes meet her, pupils wide and almost hiding the bleached-out colour of her irises.

Both hands are on Tara now, grabbing at her forearms. She doesn’t know how much of it is for support. But it doesn’t really matter now, with Lilah leaning in ever further. Lilah’s mouth opening slightly. Lilah tilting her head to the side. Lilah’s lips brushing against her own.

Which wakes Tara up. Which makes her stand back. Which makes her jump back.

Lilah almost falls. But she’s steadier again, and after a moment she’s leaning against the wall, and she’s shaking just a little. She’s trying for the smirk again, but it’s not as firm as it should be.

“What can I say,” says Lilah, “Near death experiences make me thirsty.”

It makes Tara sure, all of a sudden, that Lilah is covering. The thought hits her, confuses her because… it would make what Lilah had done real.

But this could be a manipulation. It could be another manipulation.

She’s about to say this, but something stops her.

Because somewhere beneath the smirk is a horribly unguarded expression.

“Sorry,” says Tara. Lilah’s mouth opens again - she hadn’t noticed quite how full those lips are. “I have a girlfriend.”

“You’re dead, honey.”

Tara almost laughs at the bravado. A part of her suddenly wonders whether - if this were real - she could somehow use it to get out of this mess. And then she hates herself for the thought.

She should have jumped into hell’s fires before even considering it.

“Still,” she says, more weakly than she wanted.

“If it’s fidelity that’s worrying you, you’ll be thrilled to know that Willow has moved on,” says Lilah dispassionately.

“Oh,” says Tara, then forces herself to be happy for Willow. She has every right to move on, of course. Every right to be happy. “Good.”

“I’m sure. Not that it should matter. You being dead and all.”

They stand in silence for a moment.

“I… Look, I saved your life. Can we just go back now?”

Lilah shook her head. “I don’t have a life for you to save.”

“But -“ She bit ferociously at her lip, in a moment bringing back a bad habit she had managed to stop years and years ago. The pain, at least, is real. “What happens? If you die here?”

The lawyer studies her.“You’ve changed the subject.”

Tara does not answer, the kiss still hanging between them.

“What happens when a dead person dies?” The smirk is a sour twist of the mouth now. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

This is ominous, and not at all useful. Tara is just about to protest when something catches her attention.

The walls are closing in on them.

Slowly, but slowly, they’re shifting towards them. Stones screeching over stones, somehow escaping her awareness until now. But now -

“Um… Lilah?”

Lilah frowns for a moment, still distracted. Then she realises too. “Ah shit.”

The walls haven’t stopped moving.

“We need to get out of here,” says the lawyer and before she has the chance to straighten up properly, Tara has grabbed her hand. They’re running again, with a new desperation, and Tara is searching for an exit even as she has to concentrate to not stumble on the rough terrain.

They’re both gasping and straining as their lungs struggle - just as a corner of Tara’s brain realises that the shoes that Lilah are wearing really aren’t appropriate and she’s astounded the lawyer has even gotten so far. One burning leg ahead of the other, pushing each other forwards as the walls press in ever closer, pushing up stones and making the ground hard to step on and their ankles flare up in pain. But Tara can see a space ahead where the walls are no longer moving and it’s a desperate last sprint - fifteen feet, ten feet, five -

They make it. Just.

They’re in a cavern. And they had better hope these walls don’t betray them because right now, they’re too tired to run.

***

“Somehow, this doesn’t even make my top three worst Christmases,” says Tara.

Lilah, who is still panting, looks up at her in bewilderment, then catches Tara’s expression. She starts laughing - it’s a nice laugh, Tara finds, even if it’s interrupted by regular bursts of coughing. All the smoke and gruesome odours are still messing with them. Tara looks away, a smile appearing on her own face. Somehow, that makes Lilah laugh harder.

“This is all so not going to plan,” says Lilah at last, wiping her forehead with the pack of her wrist before examining her dirt-covered hand with an air of disgust. “A few checkpoints, I was told. Just stride right through, they said. And then there’s you, of course.”

“Me?”

“I was told you were going to be disoriented. Easy to convince of anything, considering you long jaunt in limbo and your unfamiliar surroundings.” She laughs again. “All that bullshit about protecting you about paranormal incursions or whatever is just rubbish to make it go down smoother.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Yeah. You’re not easy to disorientate. Instead, you’ve been… well, you. Or at least, I hope you won’t more argumentative when you were alive?”

Tara shrugs, somehow not bothered by this new information. “Probably. I don’t think I’d have followed you this far if I were thinking straight.”

“Figures,” says Lilah. “You’ll be thrilled to know that my employers very much underestimated you.”

“For all the good it’s done me.”

She laughs. “This’ll be over soon. Promise.”

“How?” asks Tara. She gestures at the ruins behind them. “We can’t get back.”

“There’s another way,” says Lilah. “I think, anyway. Once we get to the contact point, there’s a door that leads back to hell proper.”

“Great.”

Lilah smirks, but it’s as close to warm as she’s ever been. “We need to continue on to that point though. It’s the only way.”

“How very convenient.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, this was not my plan. None of this…” There’s a moment of awkwardness as Lilah straightens again.

There’s only one path out of the cavern. Just when Tara is feeling herself again, she’s all out of choices. So there’s really nothing to do except to continue. Whatever may be waiting for them next.

“I didn’t really do much of that sort of thing when I was alive,” says Lilah suddenly. They’ve walked for a bit and it’s shaping up to be a fairly ordinary tunnel.

Tara glances at her but Lilah is looking down. She does the same, able to guess what the lawyer means. She doesn’t know whether dead people can get tired… but this definitely feels like the real thing.

“Maybe death changes things,” Lilah continues. “Or… Perhaps I didn’t see the point in it. I liked using intimacy. I liked the power I got from it. Women never did have much of that, not where I’m from.” She flashes Tara a smile. “Should have sought out some witches, shouldn’t I?”

Tara really doesn’t know what to say to this. She racks her mind for something, then tries to figure out how to change the subject and goes with the first thing she can think of.  “Your contract. The one with your employers, I mean. Does it even bind you here?”

Lilah stares at her for a few long moments, making Tara wonder whether she’ll get angry. But she shrugs, and again she’s looking so very painfully casual. “It’s complicated.”

“If you disobeyed…”

“It wouldn’t be a great idea.” Another shrug. “You’re not the only one who could spend the New Year in a hell dimension.”

“I’m starting to think I really shouldn’t be doing this,” says Tara sardonically.

Lilah snorts. “If you really want to get away, there’s another path you can take,” she says. “There’s the one that leads to the real world, where the connection is formed. And another one, that leads straight back to hell. The real hell, that is. Trying to get back to limbo? You’ll have to go through the second one either way.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She can’t keep the suspicion out of her voice.

“Because -“ says Lilah, then cuts herself off suddenly. She closes her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s what I need to say,” she says eventually. “To get you to follow me.”

Of course, they’re faced with one last obstacle.

A pit of fire. Just what Tara needs.

***

“We need to jump,” says Lilah.

“What?”

“Well, there’s meant to be a bridge but clearly the denizens of hell haven’t felt in the mood to provide one.”

“It’s too far,” she says. The gap has to be at least five feet, and the flames beneath are hissing. The edges of the rocks on the other side hardly look stable either.

“Then use your magic.”

“You can’t just -“ Tara takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the inevitable smirk. “I don’t even know why my magic is working, but it’s not particularly reliable. And it’s not as strong as it usually is. Levitation requires a lot of energy and self-levitation is beyond me so unless you want to continue on your own…”

“That won’t do,” says Lilah. “How about creating a bridge?”

“What, just magick some stones into place?”

Lilah nods.

Tara rolls her eyes. In doing so, she focuses on the pit of fire. As conduits go, fire is pretty much perfect - like a ready-made fuel. “There’s one spell - the Ritual of Cherufe. It warps fire into ice. Usually you’d use candles but…”

“- we’re not exactly short on fire.”

She nods, examining the ground. It’s dusty, and the thin sheen is ideal to make signs on. “Don’t suppose you keep a stick hidden wherever your papers are?”

“No.”

Tara kneels on the ground, gesturing Lilah to stand aside. She closes her eyes for a moment, summoning the relevant memories. She’d always had a good head for spells. Perhaps she never would have had Willow’s raw power, but when it came to knowing magic, there is no one who matches Tara. She sketches a pentagram with her grubby finger and adds the specific lines and runes to the edge, before adding a small latinate stabiliser to the bottom. Then she steps gingerly into the pentacle.

“You’ll have to be fast once I conjure the spirit,” she says, hoping spirits could even be summoned here. “I won’t be able to hold it for long.”

“You’re sure the ice will hold?” asks Lilah dubiously.

Tara gives a thin smile. “I thought you can’t die here.”

That earns her a scowl.

“All right then,” she mutters, and recites the incantation quickly and confidently, waving her hands in a manner reminiscent to a conductor, before throwing her head up in expectance of the spirit - even though there isn’t much reason to expect it to come from above or anywhere at all.

But a prickle of energy and a gasp from Lilah tells her that the spell is working. After a moment, she looks down to see that the fire has transfigured itself to a single ice platform.

Lilah gives her an uncertain look, but she takes a quick run and bounds on to the platform, skittering dangerously on the surface but jumping immediately on. She lands at the edge and almost tips backwards, but after peddling furiously with her arms she manages to fall onto her knees, before instantly raising herself again and beckoning to Tara.

“Come on!”

Tara takes another deep breath and inhales a lot of soot for her trouble. The ice looks rather flimsy, especially with the fearsome flames licking at its bottom. Well, no time like the present. Besides, a fall to a fiery undeath would certainly be one way out of her current dilemma.

She runs forwards and jumps on to the platform, landing with both feet and pausing. She can see through the ice, can see the flames leap at her. After teetering for just a moment, she summons her courage and jumps again, falling against Lilah and taking them both to the ground.

They lie on each other. Lilah looks winded, but quickly gives a cheeky grin.

“Skipping straight to the good parts, are we?”

Tara groans and rolls off. She lies on her back staring at the jumble of rocks above, wondering whether this day will ever end.

***

They’re in a room of some kind. It’s lit by a single torch, which makes Tara wonder where all the light in the taverns came from. Hell has different lighting rules, she supposes. She can’t make out the corners, and Lilah has pried the torch from the wall to illuminate stairs.

“This is just the antechamber,” says Lilah. “What matters is up those stairs.”

Tara just looks at her.

“Come on,” says Lilah. Tara has to stay close to see anything, and the stone steps don’t look particularly safe. It’s another narrow path that curves around with steps that are slightly to high to be comfortable and uneven enough to be dangerous. She has to stare at her feet where the flickering flame shows her where to step. They don’t speak.

The room at the top is somewhat better lit. That’s mainly by the glow of a portal of some kind - with tendrils of silver spinning around on the frame and spiralling off the edge. And behind it, an altar of some kind. A stone that shines green.

“What…”

“It’s linked to you,” says Lilah as they step forwards.

“To me?”

“Once you reach in.”

Tara looks around for another way out, but there’s nothing except the portal.

“We need to find the moment of the spell,” says Lilah. “In your time stream -“

“But what you want after my death.”

Lilah shakes her head. “The time stream is… everything. It’s who created you, what effects you had on the world. You live on in Willow’s magic. That’s why this’ll work. Then you step through and touch the stone. That makes the connection.”

Tara hesitates. “You said there’d be another way. A way out of this.”

A nod. “There is. But behind the portal - there’s the stone you touch to make the connection. You do have a way out.”

“And if I decide not to help?”

Lilah shrugs. “You’ll see the truth of your choice in the stream. Then you can decide what to do.”

“My decision, eh?”

No answer.

She stretches out and lets her hand run through the portal.

***

She stares into the time stream, the visions and voices washing over her in a ferocious mess. Glimpses of people connected to her, as far as she can tell - a younger version of her father standing over a cot, her cousin laughing at something she can’t see, a girl who looks like her mother sipping at coffee.

She’s growing so -

Norman Lamond said he’d prop up -

It’s in the bag for the Rams -

But it isn’t just the past. She sees Willow again and again - and not just the Willow she had known but an older Willow too. A Willow who had a bright future - sometimes with Buffy at her side, sometimes without. Willow with friends, enemies, lovers… Xander frowning at a man with handsome curls, holding a flashlight tightly. Buffy pressed with her back against the wall, a bruise covering her brow as she groaned quietly.

I can’t give you up. Not after Dortmund -

The Gatwick drones changed everything. Now that everyone knows about vampires -

Dawn, it’s not safe. Please, come back, let’s talk about this. You don’t need to do it on your -

And a voice piercing through. A familiar one. Spike.

Something’s brewing and it’s so big, ugly and damned, it makes you and me look like little bitty puzzle pieces.

Tara tries to hold on to the voice. She feels, instinctively, that it matters.

His eyes are wild and he stares at someone out of sight. Maybe it’s Buffy.

And his voice says one more thing. You’re gonna need help.

“There it is,” mutters Lilah.

Tara whirls around. “That’s it?” She has felt the darkness. Whatever it is… Whatever Willow did, she suddenly knows it was necessary. She can’t undo this spell, she just can’t. Consequences be damned.

The First. A primal evil, indeed. One that Willow had -

She has to get out of here.

“If we do this,” says Tara, pleading, “we’ll ruin everything. God, Lilah, can’t you see? Don’t you care?”

That makes something break in Lilah’s face. But the mask is back in an instant. “I don’t care. And I got past appeals to God a long time ago.”

“You do care,” says Tara, not sure if she believes it or if she wants to convince herself of it. Because she’s begun seeing Lilah as a human and she can’t - she won’t - think of her as a monster, but now more than ever she just needs to get through…

Lilah hesitates for a moment. Then she pushes Tara in the back towards the stone. “I’m sorry. But I don’t have a choice.”

***

“You don’t have to do this!” shouts Tara, struggling furiously. But Lilah’s grasp is surprisingly strong and she pulls her wrist towards the flickering stone. She tries to reach for her magic but she’s exerted herself too much. There has to be some way to bend the torch’s flames or to -

Lilah lets out a gasp of pain and she’s staring down at where she’s grabbing Tara’s wrist. Tara is burning her through the touch, one of the first spells she mastered. She can only imagine how painful it is but Lilah does not let go, tears in her eyes but still pulling her hand down. Tara starts muttering under her breath, pouring her magic into the stones below, loosening them and making them crumble from within. But it takes time, time she doesn’t have.

Her hand is inches away from the stone.

She can’t resist any longer so she does the only thing she could think of and steps forward to kiss Lilah. It has been a long time since Willow. It has been a long time since she has been this close to anything. To anyone.

But there’s no real time to think - no real time for anything at all except to get away from here, to end this. She’s managed to disorientate Lilah enough to pull her away from the stone and in a natural continuation of the movement her hand makes a gesture towards the floor. It takes all her energy to even make a dent and for a single, horrible moment as they lean ever closer into each other she thinks she won’t be strong enough. She pulls out every last tendril of her power, not caring what happens past this moment.

And the floor comes crashing down.

***

The thing is… That is that. There’s nothing else to do. Nothing else to say.

This is how their story ends.

***

Except that they’re no more dead than they were before Tara ripped up the floor and made them tumble through, before they landed in a mess of dust and stone that leaves scratches and bruises and they need time to crawl away from, before Tara makes a small light hover in the air above her head with power she didn’t know she still had.

They don’t speak. They just sit on their respective piles of rocks.

***

“We’re stuck here. In an antechamber, with the path leading back completely blocked off and the path ahead collapsed,” says Tara, dully.

Lilah still has her eyes closed, but eventually she answers. “That’s not entirely true.”

Tara stares to where the lawyer is once again flattened against the wall. That once lovely suit is pretty much in tatters by now, the scarf isn’t looking much better. She’s grubby and grime-cladden and hardly an impressive figure any more, but right now she’s all Tara has.

And Tara wants her to explain herself. Now.

“There’s a crack,” says the lawyer and slaps the wall to her right. Tara looks where she’s gesturing. And hidden in the corner, there is indeed another opening.

***

Lilah opens her eyes to see Tara’s expression of fury.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s what I do. It’s what I always do.”

It’s not like Tara hadn’t been warned. Not like she hadn’t known.

Tara makes a move towards the door, and for a moment Lilah thinks she’s going to leave her there.

***

The thing is, whatever Lilah has done, Tara can hardly leave her there. She has enough of a measure of the woman by now that there’s more to the woman than the cold veneer, more than this last trick. This series of tricks and misdirections, because of course now Tara realises how carefully Lilah chose her words. No lies. Only half-truths.

She’s all Tara has.

“Come on,” says Tara.

Lilah’s expression is blank. The silence stretches between them.

“Lilah,” she says. “Come on.”

At that, Lilah’s gaze meets her own. And she straightens up, somehow, again. And she follows Tara towards the gap in the stones that leads to another world entirely. But before Tara can cross the threshold, Lilah stretches out her arm and blocks her way.

It takes Lilah a moment to say what she wants to.

“If you hadn’t needed to distract me…” The question hangs unfinished in the air.

Tara imagines testing out either response, figuring out which one is the truth and which one dies in her throat. But neither feels right. Not yet.

“I guess we’ve got all the time we need to figure that out.”

There’s a ghost of a smirk on Lilah’s face as she withdraws her arm. “Let’s rule hell.”

“Merry Christmas.”

The smirk becomes a real one and it’s the last thing Tara sees before she steps through the crack. And as she enters the next part of their journey, she can just about hear Daft Punk playing in the distance.

[cdc1345711]

Never-World Characters

Never-Worlders

Phenas=Bad-Ass Never-World Inhabitant who lost his Arm while saving a Little Person from being sliced up by debris who is an excellent swordsman and sharpshooter and is a cook but is a very terrible one as well as the 'Blood Brother'(not by actual blood but they got simultaneously stabbed and both their blood is in the Other's Body kind of deal) to Tamboro. He is a Calm Levelheaded Warrior whose often the voice of reason concerning Tamboro and Others like him. He is also the Lover of Oriel

Tamboro=My Favorite to draw Tamboro is a Primal Hunter who hates guns and prefers to hunt with swords knives or his bare claws. He often acts firsts and thinks later much to Phenas' annoyance. He is a skilled Hunter Tracker Predator and has HUGE respect for nature. His Emblem is an Owlbear and he has 2 Mates Zada and Lila. Despite his Bull Headedness he is a kind soul would give his life for those he cares about

Koro= A Technomancer aka Magic used specifically for Technology which increases the more Advanced the Tech is. Koro much like Phenas is the Voice of Reason and is the Head of Communications and master for Future Technomancers. His species has 4 fingers(2 on each hand) and a Cyborg esque style to them. Even though he prefers diplomacy he is a skilled combatant especially in the Never-World Skill known as Weirdie. Koro also took part in the Magical Alliance plan to use Multiversal Portals which he remains to this day on the Fence about his part in it

Gobli= Half Goblin Girl with a Steampunk Arm wanting to prove herself as a warrior and not just some kid who talks big(even though she is 22). She os currently learning Technomancy

Demogorgon= Aamuel and Hathradiah the former Prince of Demons who in the past betrayed the Demon Lords and sided with the God(alongside Other Demons) and has grown in age learning honor and loyalty. They're also the Top Powerhouse of the Protagonists

Terret= Furry Man Creature skilled in Old Magic who also took part in the Multiverse Portal Summoning. Rival to Omar who uses Alchemy

Omar= Goblin Alchemist who has Robotic Hands and Feet as well as an Exposed Brain. Terret's Rival

Opal=One of the few Metal Organics born in Never-World who is a Super Bad-Ass Lady sporting 4 elongated swords in her Hands and 2 tiny ones in her feet. Opal also has a major part of the Story but I won't say it. She like most Metal Organics can heal fast immunity to diseases and poisons and has a Don't give a Crap attitude but is super Loyal to her pals.

Redcap=Red Cap Goblin who joined the group after being saved from the Kaiju King's Crazies. Loves to hack and slash

Stargantua=Originally from the Main OC Verse he appeared through a Portal and was found by the group who cared for him and taught him to fight. Stargantua can also change forms depending on the amount of water he consumes

Zada=Tamboro's Mate who he met on a Hunting Trip who fought over a Demon Boar but as the Fighting continued they both embraced and made love becoming Mates. Much like Tamboro Zada is a skilled huntress and tracker and has a few Mechanical appendages due to losing most of her healing from an Ability sucker. She has however perfected her Hardened Illusions which are Illusions but they can hurt. Besides kindness and loyalty she does have a sassy side that Tamboro and their other mate Lila loves.

Kraiglest=A Metal Creature(not Metal Organic) who after the loss of his Lord leads his People. Much like Stargantua they were originally from the Main OC Verse until they somehow ended up in Never-World wanting to rebuild their Race. Though due to the Rampage of the Kaiju King it seemed Impossible until Kraiglest with the MC Council's Permission joined forces with the Resistance

Monkey Chips=An Honorable Primate Kaiju who for the Longest Time remained Neutral until hearing the Words of Armando and decided to use his Club to help them

Mountain Octopus=A Giant Land Octopus used as the opening to the Heroes base. MO is a kind gentle Creature who remains collected..... Until the fighting starts and he shows how powerful he truly is. He is close to Demogorgon Opal Gobli and Armando

Rosaina=Sniper Girl with a Secret Past

Kaijus/Giant Beasts= Yeah nuff said

Kaiju King=A Powerful Antagonist who can control the Beasts of Never-World who believes strength is achieved through hardships and pain

Non Never-Worlders

Armando=Kromakian Army Lieutenant and Brother In Law to Eric my First Ever OC. First one to appear before the leader of the Never-World Resistance and was one of the Few to accept to fight on behalf of Every life ruined by the Kaiju King. Very Stoic yet still pretty funny Armando is a tactical genius and due to his ability to shift arm weapons he's one of the Most powerful protagonists of the Story. He also looks up to Eric as inspiration to be a Great Leader.

Oriel=Twin Sister of Ari that lost her Arm due to an Ability Sucker and has to fight one armed but due to her Changeling abilities she can still morph her good Arm into any weapon she chooses. Lover of Phenas

Lila=A Lesbian Wolf Woman who in the Main World was the daughter of a business man who eventually took over the company after his retirement and she caused the business to boom exponentially. However..... She was super bored with her life until the Multiverse Portals opened and she had to survive in a Demonic Hellscape(though years of Camping helped her). During her time she finally felt alive and felt more alive when she met Zada. Course she had trouble being attracted to Tamboro(because of her LGBTQ life) but after a romantic outing she found her attractiveness to Tamboro. She wears a metal arm because it was infected and was amputated. She slso gained tons of scars while surviving. She hopes to return home one day but not until the Kaiju King is defeated

Ribeye=Former Football Star Anthro Ribs turned Soldier. Ribeye was one of the Few people to actually want to help the Never-Worlders because of all the pain he saw the Kaiju King made(plus he always wanted to take down a God-Zilla lol). His Flamboyant Personality is a huge morale booster and he even teaches Football when not fighting.

Ilodorf and Dira=A Sasquatch and Deer Couple who are both skilled in the Art of Medicine and Health. Ilodorf is a crazy man but his techniques do work well and his Wife while often succumbing to Self Doubt is willing to help any patient they got

Kip=Twin Brother of Rip who is just as Crazy and Gun Happy as Rip

Part 2 Coming Soon

[sj4iy]

Translation: “Ao no Exorcist” Chapter 96 Summary (SPOILERS!!!)

Here is your summary of this month’s chapter of “Ao no Exorcist”...and as you may have guessed by now, it’s pretty crazy.  Please forgive any spelling or translation errors.  Spoilers ahead! 

[Note: the chapter isn’t in English yet, I just wanted to typeset the top graphic for the purposes of this post.]

Chapter 96: The End of Snow (Part 5)

Rin is saying “Yukio, stand up.  We’re going back to the Order.  I want to rescue you” but Yukio is thinking “Go back?  Rescue?  Me?”  As they are escaping, Yukio finds the gun of a fallen exorcist on the ground.

The exorcists are in a scramble trying to figure out where the explosion came from.  They tell Izumo and Shiemi (who are still pretending to be injured exorcists to stay where they are).  When the smoke clears, we see Amaimon reading a letter (very disinterestedly).  “Foolish humans, do you feel it?  The atmosphere of a Gehenna full of madness.  Now that my brother is weakened, the King of Earth shall bring about chaos. Wah hah ha HA ha.”

Konekomaru says “It looks like the Okumuras were able to get away successfully!” but Amaimon says “That’s ridiculous.  It’d be much easier if everyone were killed.”  Sugaro gets angry but Amaimon retorts that he wouldn’t be here doing something so troublesome without orders from his older brother.

We get a flashback to the group struggling to think of a way to get Yukio out (while Rin is profusely thanking everyone).  They realize that they need the help of a “patron”, but since Lightning is in the Vatican…just then, they get a knock on the door.  One is Amaimon, and gotta be honest here…I can’t remember the other guy’s name at all.  But they announce that “The King of Time Samael has undertaken the job of ‘Patron’.”

Back in the present, they are wondering how Mephisto knew and Amaimon says that Mephisto knows everything.  Izumo reminds them that they should hurry and escape before they are found.  Amaimon says “Is that it?  Then I’ll be doing as I please.  I have an interest in those two,” and takes off, climbing on the tower that Yukio was in.  Shima is hiding and talking to someone on his earpiece.  He says “Things seem to be going well faster than I thought.”  After he hands up he says “Koneko-san, Bon…this time is really goodbye.”

Somewhere outside, Rin is telling Yukio that everyone helped them to escape.  He hands him his camo coat and tells him to wear it until they have left the campus.  Rin says “Well take the train as far as we can and get a hotel in front of the last stop.  We’ll talk after that.”  However, when Rin walks away, Yukio stays still. Rin is confused and asks him what’s wrong.  Yukio says “I thought you’d come to save me sooner or later, but I didn’t think it’d be this quickly…why do you always come to save me?  Even though we were born the same way, why are we so different?”  Rin is confused and asks “What are you talking about?  This isn’t the place to talk it out…”

Suddenly there’s a loud sound and a helicopter appears above them, glowing so brightly that the group can see it from pretty far away.  Yukio is thinking “Don’t you want to know about the mystery of your eye and the secret of your hidden birth?  I will grant you the ‘power’ of the truth.”  Inside the helicopter we see Shima, who is telling Yukio “The Illuminati welcomes you.  Whaddya say we leave this place?”  Rin and everyone else is shocked by Shima’s actions.  Rin yells that there’s no way Yukio would join the Illuminati, but Yukio is thinking “I can grant you power” and then he thinks “I’m weak” and starts to walk towards the helicopter.  Rin is in disbelief and Yukio says “Rin, I will tell you one last thing.  The Order of the True Cross is no different from the Illuminati.  Mephisto experimented on a large number of humans in order to create vessels for demons.  On the contrary, it was the Order which created the Illuminati.  And our father was born of those experiments.  He was a person trained as an exorcist.  It’s doubtful that kind of person could have human feelings.”  Rin is shocked, of course, but Yukio goes on “The truth is, we were raised to be weapons, just like tools.”

Rin finally responds “…tools…?  That can’t be!!  I didn’t know…how dad was born, but” (he’s also thinking “The dad I know…”) “that’s not true!!”  Yukio says “It was different for you.  You were special…that person might have had some emotional attachment to you.  But I was weak, a failure.  I must have been an eyesore.  But whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore.”  Rin says “…what are you saying!?  You…” (and he’s thinking “you were serious, and loved to study, you were tall, stylish and kind, popular with girls but modest, you were smart and had your sights set on being a doctor…”) “You’re perfect compared to me, you were our pride and joy!!”

Rin yells “What are you looking at…wipe off those foggy glasses and look harder!!!!  You’re mistaken!  I’ll make Mephisto tell the truth!!”  Yukio walks away and says “It doesn’t matter. I’m done with this place.”  Rin gets very angry and says “No.  I won’t let you go!!!!” but Yukio pulls a gun on him.  “I’m sorry, Rin.  I want to become strong.”  The group is coming up on the brothers when this is happening and are wondering what’s going on.  Rin thinks “That’s right, he’s serious and loves to study…and hates to lose” just as Yukio shoots him in the forehead, neck and chest.  As Rin collapses to the ground, Yukio says “That’s why I don’t need you to save me anymore.”  The group is shocked and Shiemi starts to run to them but Amaimon suddenly appears in front of her and says he won’t let her interfere.  Rin lay on the ground, coughing up blood as it also runs down his face.  Rin mentions “heh, again with the nutrients somehow” but then thinks “The bleeding won’t stop”…”He was serious this time…”  Rin gets up in a blaze of flames.  Shima looks a little flustered and tries to attack Rin but misses and gets knocked back against the wall by Rin.  Yukio remains calm as Rin rampages his way towards him, thinking of the things Rin said to him “I’ll save you. Wipe off those foggy glasses and look harder!!!!  You’re perfect compared to me…”  He thinks “No, from my point of view…” and says out loud “You were the perfect one” as the brothers’ powers clash…with Yukio’s eye breaking Rin’s sword.

That’s all for this month, the story will be continued in next month’s chapter.

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animedia April 2021 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

Don’t Miss the Seriously Insane Decisive Battle Card!

After accumulating numerous dramatic incidents, “the time of the decisive battle” is finally arriving for a number of this term’s noteworthy animes. What sort of developments will they show… the seriously insane moment is near!

What Does Sesshōmaru (biological father) Think of the Yashahimes (daughters) As They Head Towards the Decisive Battle While Baring the (binding) Spell on Their blood?

“Hanyō no Yashahime” is nearing its climax and the insane truths like the details on how the three Yashahimes were separated from their parents have been revealed. During Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha’s first confrontation with Kirinmaru, Sesshōmaru appeared but contrary to the “emotional father-daughter reunion” we were expecting, Sesshōmaru left without saying a word. It appears Sesshōmaru is concerned about the twins’ mother, Rin, who is currently sleeping within the Tree of Ages. What he is trying to do and what he thinks of his daughters continues to be a mystery. On the other hand, Kirinmaru’s elder sister, Zero, is steadily reaching out her evil hand towards the Yashahimes. As half-demons and a quarter-demon (respectively), can Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha awaken their true strength in order to attack that evil hand… …?!

Character Bios

Higurashi Towa Sesshōmaru’s daughter and Setsuna’s older twin sister. She loses her demonic powers on the night of the new moon and her hair turns black. She treasures Setsuna and is slowly regaining their sisterly bond.

Setsuna Towa’s younger twin sister. Having had her sleep stolen by the Dream Butterfly, she is unable to sleep. She possesses strong demonic powers, but they are sealed by Monk Miroku.

Moroha The daughter of Inuyasha, a half-demon, and Kagome, a human. Having been separated from her parents, she was raised by the wolf demon tribe. When rouge is applied to her lips, her demonic power awakens, causing her to transform into “Beniyasha, the Destroyer of Lands” and go on a rampage.

Sesshōmaru Towa and Setsuna’s father. He protected his daughters immediately after their birth as Zero aimed for their lives, but he currently does not try to get involved with the two. His true motive behind that has yet to be revealed.

VS the People Who See It Through, Interview with Komatsu Mikako (Role of Setsuna)

“Please look forward to the climax that will be beyond imagination!”

— Looking back at the broadcasting up until now, which episode made you think “That was insane!”

Episode 14 where the truth behind the forest fire and Towa and Setsuna getting separated was revealed. I mean Homura’s (the one who caused the fire) intense love for Tamano was amazing. It was warped but his deep, strong love was incredible. On top of that, the shocking development of Zero being the mastermind behind Homaru and Sesshōmaru being present really made that episode “insane” in more ways than one.

— While there is curiosity about Sesshōmaru’s relationship with Zero and his motives, how do you yourself see him Komatsu-san?

Sesshōmaru doesn’t say much and his actions are hard to understand but I think he’s a character who always proceeds in his own logical way. As such, I think the current Sesshōmaru moves not because of the simple principle that “Love for a human has sprouted” but rather it is the result of him looking deeply at himself from different angles such as the curiosity at his own change of heart and/or looking at the general drift of affairs from the standpoint of demon. Also, I have a feeling that he has this belief that “He will protect and treasure things that are within his reach” so I feel real at ease about that. From Setsuna’s standpoint, I want to look forward to how he will show that through his actions from here on.

— The climax is right before our eyes, but could you give us hints as to what sort of future developments will unfold?

A development that is like “I didn’t imagine this kind of finale…!” awaits. Personally, I have a feeling that the “Test of Courage and Cowardice” that Sesshōmaru spoke of will become a keyword going forward. What did Sesshōmaru entrust to Towa and Setsuna and how did he feel? From here on is our critical moment. There is still the matter of the Dream Butterfly with Setsuna and many mysteries remain. I hope that one day, (the twins) can confront Sesshōmaru as father and daughter and that the things that they desire and have been entrusted with tie together. Please look forward to it!

The Yashahime’s Trump Card is the “Bond” They’ve Cultivated Amongst the Three of Them

Setsuna & Towa

Although Setsuna has not fully regained the memories of her past, while moving alongside Towa, she has started to acknowledge her as an older sister.

“At the beginning Setsuna didn’t really know Towa so she followed her movements out of the corner of her eye. But at some point, she started looking straight at her. However, she’s too embarrassed to show that change. Thus, I also control my emotions when I act” (Komatsu)

Gradually opening her heart ♪

Moroha & Setsuna

While battling demons, Setsuna and Moroha show that they’re a superb combination because they trust each other’s strength.

“I would say she’s not as worried about Moroha like she is with Towa. (laughs) She has a sort of peace of mind like ‘She’ll probably be fine’ and I think Moroha has become a comrade she can entrust her back to while fighting. Also, Moroha has a persistent “let’s get along!” type of personality so there’s a part of Setsuna that has been saved by that.” (Komatsu)

We asked Komatsu-san! Oh snap oh snap! Grand Prix

Characters with Insane Mysteries Best 3

1. Sesshōmaru

Sesshomaru’s level of mysteriousness stands out and I have a feeling he is continuing to evolve. However, after recording all the way to the final episode, I feel like the times where his intentions come through in a more straightforward way is increasing.

2. Riku

He’s a character whose investigations about him progress somehow so Riku’s level of mysteriousness is high. His human like sense and his birthplace are things I’m curious about.

3. Jyuubee

I don’t think Jyuubee of the corpse shop is a villain, but he seems to know things through his connection with Riku and he might surprisingly have an ulterior motive…? Although he could just be a regular middle-aged man (laughs)

We Asked Komatsu-san! The Enemy Prize

Who’s the number 1 enemy character you’re curious about?

Riku

“He calls Zero “elder sister” but we still don’t know what his connection to her is and Riku himself mutters things that have a profound hidden meaning so I feel like he has some kind of painful circumstance. Riku is the number 1 enemy (?) I wonder about.” Komatsu.

Cannot Overlook These Enemies

Those who are too dangerous

Kirinmaru A beast king on par with the Dog General (Sesshōmaru’s father). Having once received a prophecy from the Shikon Jewel that he “Would be destroyed by an existence that is neither human nor demon”, he is cautious of the 3 Yashahimes.

Zero Kirinmaru’s older sister. Due to her ties with the Dog General, she despises humans and half-demons. She is the mastermind behind the forest fire that separated Towa and Setsuna.

Oh Snap! The Yashahimes or Kirinmaru… Whose side is Sesshōmaru on?

When he sealed Inuyasha in the black pearl, Sesshōmaru behaved as though he was Kirinmaru’s ally. How he will deal with Zero who is after his daughters; pay attention to Sesshōmaru’s actions in the last 2 episodes!

Illustration Description

Towa and Setsuna prepare themselves while having complicated feelings towards Sesshōmaru. Moroha also faces the decisive battle with her characteristic cheerfulness.

[kpopstarsreact]

Djinn AU : Part 1 - Abduction

What is a Djinn? A Djinn is a  spirit  often  capable  of  assuming  human  or  animal  form  and  exercising  supernatural  influence  over  people. Also known to some as genie’s, the Djinn is rumored to be able to grant wishes and create vivid visions.

Pairing: Jaebum + Reader

Genre: Djinn au / genie au / supernatural / angst

Warnings: strong language is used at certain points

Summary: This takes place in a world where Jaebum is a Djinn from the other realm sent to protect you from the evils of the world. But in a twist of fate, this dark Djinn grows attached to you and that might be the most dangerous thing of all.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: This was inspired by one of the networks I belong to (boy group writers net) who is holding an event for the month of June! The theme is supernatural au’s, so here’s one that has been in the back of my mind for a while but have never seemed to be the right time to work on! (until now!! :D) I hope everyone enjoys~

writing below the cut~

Jesus it feels like there’s someone in the room with me.

You pulled out a tank top and shorts and shut the door. Turning around, you placed your shirt on the light blue floral bed sheet. For the thousandth time that morning your eyes drifted over your room to make sure the sinking feeling you had was just your paranoia settling in again.

The only other living thing in your room was your cat, Dean, looking at you with half-slitted eyes from your bedside table, his tail lazily twitching as he fell asleep.

“Ah,” you sighed in defeat as you stripped out of your pajamas to get dressed for the school day. “Dean do you think I’m paranoid? Or am I just crazy?”

Your cat’s eyes opened fully again, seeming to scan your half-naked body before stilling his tail and tilting his head to the side. You mentally scolded yourself once again for almost shooing him out of the room.

He is a cat. You had to tell yourself, He does not know the difference between a human wearing clothing or being naked. He’s not a man… just an animal.

“I guess I’m crazy.” You pulled your pants and shirt on quickly, the eerie feeling of being watched worse than before. “There’s nobody in the room with me except you and my blinds are closed. Nobody could be watching me even if they wanted to.”

Dean’s head straightened once more and he stood to angle himself to jump onto your bed. He landed without any sound whatsoever on silky sheets, and somehow even that seemingly normal thing triggered an alarm in your head.

Not normal.

You bit your lip and sat down beside him despite your gut twisting feeling. You reached your hand out hesitantly to pet him like you always had every day for the past ten years. You didn’t know what the hell was wrong with you. You have had Dean for over half your life and he’d never freaked you out like this before.

He leaned into your hand as you scratched him and you smiled to yourself, the feeling disappearing a bit.

You really were crazy.

An alarm went off on your phone then, the high pitched siren too loud in the peaceful moment, and Dean darted under your bed in a panic. You reached across your bed to get to shut off the obnoxious alarm.

“Well Dean,” you said loud enough that you hoped he heard you under the bed even though you knew he didn’t understand you. “I’m heading off to class now! I’ll be back soon though okay?

“Don’t leave me.”

Stone cold fear stopped you dead in your tracks, your eyes widening as you stopped breathing. You tried to listen again for that deep, melodic voice but heard nothing but the wild beat of your frantic heart.

Was that only a thought that popped into your head? Or had someone actually said that?

Slowly and unwillingly you started to turn to your bed again. You half feared that you’d see the stranger that had spoken to you there and half afraid that you had only imagined that voice.

Once your room was in full view again you found yourself staring back into the eyes of your cat who had somehow managed to get back onto your bed once again without a single noise.

You knew then. Something was off about Dean. You weren’t even sure he was the same cat anymore the longer you stared into his light brown eyes. They almost looked human but… They weren’t. They didn’t even look like cats eyes anymore.

What black cat had light brown eyes? Hadn’t they just been yellow-green two minutes before?

“I’m sorry. I have a lot to explain to you.” Dean’s mouth didn’t move but somehow you knew that voice echoing in your mind had come from him. His eyes stared too intently at you, were too aware of everything.

Your heard your phone hit the ground, not even realizing you had dropped it in the first place. The only thing registering in your mind was the stark fear of the unknown thing sitting on your bed.  A silent scream ripped from your throat as you backed up.

What? Why couldn’t you talk?!

Your back hit your bedroom wall. Your hands were pressed to your throat, still trying to scream as nothing came out but air.

You couldn’t even breathe anymore. Your cat- no. Not your cat. Demon. The demon was shifting, his back elongating, his paws quickly forming into fingers, every part of him popping and snapping as his bones reformed and his skin stretched over them.

And then you were staring deeply into the heavily lined light brown eyes of a olive skinned, dark haired man.

His large hands gripped his chin and he cracked his neck, the thick rings on his fingers clicking together in the process. Your voice still being gone, the only thing you could do was try to take in everything about him as possible, scan him for any sign of weakness so you could escape.

He was large. He took up almost all the space on your twin sized bed sitting Indian style. He wore ripped black jeans, worn leather ankle boots, and a plain white tee shirt that showcased his broad chest and muscled tattooed arms perfectly.

There was no sign of weakness anywhere. No, the only thing you saw from him was strength and darkness radiating from him unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” Your hands released your throat when you realized that your voice had returned.

Dean… The man nodded to you solemnly in return to your questioning, albeit terrified look.

“My name isn’t Dean. It’s Jaebum. You have your voice and you can speak normally to ask me questions. I took away your ability to scream though until you let me explain myself to you.”

“Explain to me? Explain to me what? How you pretended to be my cat for god knows how long to watch me? How you’ve been living in my house, watching everything I do- Oh god! You saw me naked whenever I got a shower! You watched me change! You-” He had nodded at you again during your rampage and just like that your voice had vanished all together.

You could only gape like a fish, only air escaping from your lips as you tried to form words again.

“Look,” he sighed and shifted positions. His legs hung off the side of the bed now and he leaned back on his left arm, his right hand running through his hair. “I admit that I did some pretty creepy things… But I didn’t to it intentionally. At first anyway. Honestly after a while it just kind of happened.”

All you could do was wave your arms frantically as you tried to tell him to go fuck himself.

The nerve of this thing, peeping on you…

His eyes watched you intently, almost visibly softening at your desperate attempts to speak.

Slowly he lowered his hand and continued on, “I’m a djinn, not a demon. Some know my kind as genies, and yes,” he answered before your face could even contort in question, “we do actually exist. But we’re not the slaves to our owners like some think we are. Honestly we’re more like shap-shifters with powers of tampering with people’s thoughts, dreams, and visions. We don’t grant wishes without a steep price. We feed off of the blood of those who want something from us…”

You were going to be sick. You were going to throw up everything you’d eaten that morning at that thought. Blood. Human blood-

“Relax. We survive off of the blood of a willing giver and we return the favor by doing something for them. It’s basically a trading system where each party nows exactly what is given and taken. You’ve never had a cat by the way. Your parents were both allergic. That was just an illusion that I created for you in order to spy on you easier.”

You slid down your wall as he continued, your eyes glazing over. You weren’t sure if you were truly understanding everything he said anymore. You weren’t even fully sure he was actually there. For all you knew this was a mental breakdown that you were having and you were just imagining all of this.

Yes, that was it. You were having a mental break down. You had too much going on with two jobs and school work all at once.

“This is not an illusion and you are not having a mental breakdown.” Your eyes instantly met his again, that single sentence breaking though your dazed trance.

He can hear my thoughts too?

“Yes I can. How else do you think I can communicate without having to worry about you screaming your head off? Don’t worry. I’m not dangerous to you. Just try to listen to the rest of my explanation, okay?”

Staring at him now you realized that he had a lot of piercings. In his ears, his eyebrow, his lip. It made the impatient scowl on his face even more intimidating.

You could only nod and try to pay attention despite your mind twisting in a thousand different directions. Maybe this way if it weren’t really an illusion then he wouldn’t suck all the blood out of your body and use your corpse as decoration for his home wherever the hell he actually lived. Probably in actual hell. He couldn’t be from earth.

He scoffed at your last thought. You knew he’d read your mind again. Your eyes darted away from his, regret pinging in the back of your mind.

After what felt like an eternity of silence in which you just knew he was waiting for your thoughts to calm down, he continued.

“I’m sorry that I had to silence you, I really am. I’ve grown quite unusually accustomed to your voice these past few months. Typically mortal voices sound grating and too high-pitched to withstand for more than three minutes but you…”

This time when your eyes flashed briefly to his you could see that they had fully softened now. He was bent forward, his elbows now on his knees, looking intently at you. You couldn’t meet his gaze for longer than a few seconds at a time. You couldn’t help that you were still so intimidated by him.

“Again, I am sorry… I know that you’re scared.” He let out a agitated huff and scrubbed his hands through his hair again. “I hate that I’m scaring you. I’ve never been remorseful about anything that I’ve ever done to a mortal but I can tell you that I feel plenty of remorse now.

I was hired this time by a mortal that you call your ‘Mother’ to keep an eye on you while she’s in Indonesia. I was the one who approached her when I sensed that her mind was pulsing out of control with worry… She told me that you had moved away from her recently and would do anything to make sure that you were safe, so here I am. She hired me to protect you and in return I’ve been teleporting back in forth in order to take more of her blood while I watched over you.”

He waved his hand over you and your voice was suddenly back. All the words you were holding back came spilling out instantly.

“My MOTHER?! You’ve been slowly sucking the blood out of my mother and spying on everything that I’ve done for MONTHS because she asked you to? I don’t believe you! She would never do that!”

His eyes had hardened once more and were slit as he watched you pace back and forth in the bedroom, shaking uncontrollably.

“You underestimate her love for you. She was nearly hysteric when I reached out to her. You could actually say that I stopped her fragile human mentality from unraveling all together.”

You stopped pacing the moment those words left his lips. “You dare to try and reason with me like you saved her? Your slowly killing her by drinking her blood!”

“I was. But I’m not anymore… I told her a few weeks ago that payment was no longer needed but that I would keep watching you. Not for her but… I decided to show you my true self today because I’ve never found a mortal so painfully bland yet…so interesting at the same time. You fascinate me and I found that I’ve almost grown,” his lips pulled up into an ironic half-smile, “attached to you.’

“A-attached to me?”

“Silly isn’t it? I’m immortal and you have such a short life span.”‘ He rolled his eyes as he leaned back on the bed to rest on his elbow again. “Yes, I’ve grown quite attached to you which is extremely unusual for my kind. Usually we don’t have these odd feelings. Especially not towards your kind.”

You scoffed and said, “well I don’t see why my kind would like anything about yours either.” He glared at you and you instinctively shrunk back a bit.

“I may be protecting you from outside danger but that doesn’t mean I won’t put you in your place if you disrespect me child.” When he saw that his threat had the desired effect of silencing you he went on. “I’ve grown more and more interested in you these past months and since that’s such a rare thing that I’ve decided to keep you.”

“K-ke-keep m-me?”

His smile grew wicked and sharp, his lip rings shining bright with reflected light from the lamps that were now suddenly glowing brighter by the second.

“You’re going to come with me back to my home and I will keep you. Don’t worry though, with you in my favor I promise not to hurt you. I may just take a little blood every now and again. Nothing too painful though I promise.”

“But you p-promised my mom to protect m-me?”

His face grew even more twisted than before, the lamps still growing brighter and brighter. “I may live in the other realm but trust me pet, you’ll be more protected with me than you ever would be with the dangers from the demons in this world. Here I can only protect you for a few hours while you’re home, but in the other realm? I can watch you every second of the day if I wish to.”

Before you even had time to register what was happening, the light bulbs in all of your lamps shattered with loud pops and your room blurred, fading slowly from sight.

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of the floor giving out under you, and then you were pressed against the djinn’s, against Jaebum’s, hard chest as he smiled down at you. This close to you, you noticed that his wicked smile produced small dimples on both sides of his cheeks.

Then you couldn’t see anything at all anymore. The world had completely gone black, and you weren’t sure in that moment if you’d ever see the light again.

[jinareads]

LET’S TALK: Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

I've finally finished Lord of Shadows, the second book in The Dark Artifices trilogy by Cassandra Clare. It was beautiful and heartbreaking and hilarious, and I don't think I've felt that empty (in the best way possible) since I finished Clockwork Princess.

Trust me, you DO NOT want to read this if you haven't read all of the Shadowhunter books by Cassandra Clare.

Summary:

Lord of Shadows continues after Malcolm Fade's death, which has given rise to a bunch of Teuthida demons in Los Angeles. Jace and Clary visit the Los Angeles Institute, and since they can't stay because of a top-secret Clave mission to Faerie, a group of Centurions (graduates of Scholomance, an elite Shadowhunter school) arrive to lead the search for Malcolm's body and stop the sea demons. We're then introduced to Perfect Diego's friends, who are definitely less than friendly--and Diego doesn't look so perfect now, either. His recently rekindled romance with Cristina comes to a screeching halt when we find out that he's engaged--and with the heavily prejudiced Zara Dearborn, who wants to take the Los Angeles Institute for herself and for the Cohort (an anti-Downworlder hate faction of the Clave). And in the middle of all this, Emma, Julian, Cristina, and Mark go on a very illegal rescue mission to the Unseelie Court to save Kieran, who has been sentenced to death for the death of Iarlath (this is the Faerie who whipped Emma, nearly to death). And so they save Kieran, and are unexpectedly rescued themselves by a member of the Seelie Court and Mark's aunt, Nene. Here, the Seelie Queen shows Julian what's going on in Los Angeles: Arthur Blackthorn, in his last lucid moments, has decided to sacrifice himself to Malcolm, and a successfully revived Annabel awakes to kill Malcolm and take the Black Volume of the Dead. The Seelie Queen then offers the team her soldiers to help defeat the Unseelie King alongside the Clave--but more importantly to Julian, she says that she knows a way to break the parabatai bond--in exchange for the Black Volume. And so Julian and Emma go to Malcolm's cottage, while Ty, Livvy, and Kit venture off to Blackthorn Manor in hopes of discovering more about Annabel. An ancient and deadly group called the Riders, as ordered by the Unseelie King, are now tracking the Blackthorns to bring back the Black Volume to the king, and at the end of a battle that nearly kills all of our main characters, Annabel appears. Julian persuades Annabel to testify in front of the Clave and turn over the Black Volume in exchange for Blackthorn Manor and reinstatement of her honor, and everyone travels to Alicante via a portal that Magnus Bane opens up (with great difficulty, since his powers have been used thus far to help heal and protect the Blackthorns). So the Blackthorns, Emma, Kieran (who will also testify against the Unseelie King), Annabel, Alec, and Magnus are all in Alicante, awaiting the trial that will determine the fate of the Los Angeles Institute. Following Magnus's suggestion, Emma and Julian go to Robert Lightwood (the Inquisitor), asking that he send Emma into exile to deaden the parabatai bond. Robert agrees, and shortly after, the trial is underway. This is where everything falls apart: Annabel is unexpectedly questioned under the Mortal Sword, Magnus collapses due to his hidden sickness, Annabel kills Robert with the Mortal Sword, Annabel kills Livvy, and Emma shatters the Mortal Sword with Cortana. The book ends, with Julian clutching yet another member of his family lost to him.

Okay, so it's really hard to summarize what happens in Lord of Shadows because it is a MASSIVE book--both in terms of page number and plot content. So much happens in this book, and I want to discuss some of the finer details a little bit further.

favorites:

Emma's humor.

“‘You’re my mother’s sister?’ [Mark] said incredulously. ‘I think they usually call that your aunt,’ said Emma. Mark gave her a dark look.”

“‘I am Sabnock of Thule. How dare you stand before me, ugly human?’ ‘How personal,’ [Emma] said. ‘I’m hurt.’“

“‘In all our lives there has only been one thing we have sought and not found.’ ‘A sense of humor?’ Emma suggested.”

Kit's mundane knowledge. Things like cancer and autism aren't talked about in the Shadowhunter community, and it’s so interesting to see Kit react to their dangerously traditional way of rejecting mundane medicine and treatment.

Diana's history. Cassie did such a beautiful job in allowing the reader into Diana's past, and we finally learn her secret: Diana is a transgender woman. Since mundane medicine is forbidden by the Clave, she was living in mundane society until the war, and is now living as her dead sister, Aria. I love that we got to understand why Diana refused to become the Head of the Institute, despite her absolute love for the Blackthorns and Emma. 

Gwyn ap Nudd. I was 100% intimidated by Gwyn until he started making his moves on Diana, and their interactions turned into some of my favorite moments. Especially when he casually quotes Shakespeare.

Some idiot put “Will H.” on all the rare first editions in the library.

Cristina. I can’t believe I almost forgot about Cristina!! I was really into the whole Mark-Cristina-Kieran thing going on in the book and how Cristina and Kieran were very patient with Mark figuring out what he wanted. Also, I loved how irrelevant Diego was to Cristina after she found out about Zara (ok I know he had good intentions with the whole thing but whatever)

what the fuck:

Clary’s (impending) death. CASSIE CAN’T DO THIS TO US I THOUGHT WE WERE SAFE AFTER CITY OF HEAVENLY FIRE

Sidenote: Ok, Jace technically died during TMI--we can totally bring her back nbd

Cortana. Cortana cuts through a lot of stuff that normal weapons shouldn’t be able to cut through--exhibit: the death of one of the seven riders (which was actually thought to be impossible). Also, I didn’t even consider that one of the Mortal Instruments could be destroyed. Does this mean Cortana can now compel people to tell the truth???

Theory: Can Cortana somehow cut the parabatai bond, since it can apparently cut through everything?

Annabel’s murderous rampage at the end. I 100% did not expect her to kill everyone at the end???

Tessa and Magnus. WHAT IS WRONG WITH TESSA AND MAGNUS??? The whole time Magnus was working his magic, I was getting worried because while he’s one of the most powerful warlocks we know, HE HAS LIMITS. And they kept. pushing. him.

tears:

Livvy’s death. I HATED that this happened to the Blackthorns, especially since they’ve already lost so much and they only had each other left. At the same time, I kind of saw it coming, especially with Kit entering the picture. I’m really glad that Kit and Ty have formed a relationship so that Ty will have someone to support him through this in the next book.

Robert’s death. I finished the story with Robert and Michael in Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy after I finished LoS, and it was SO MUCH MORE DEVASTATING that he died. Not only did Emma and Julian lose the one person who could’ve helped them through the whole being in love with your parabatai thing, but just THINK OF ROBERT AS HE HEARD THEIR STORY. Robert can’t go back in time and make it up to Michael, but he could’ve helped another pair of parabatai

Jon’s death. I really didn’t mind this until the last couple stories from TFTSA, but it def hit me when I thought of him and Marisol, and how little time they had together.

Arthur’s death. I ALMOST FORGOT THIS HAPPENED. Arthur has such a twisted history, with his imprisonment in Faerie while his brother fell in love (please read TFTSA). I honestly felt so sad that Julian had to take on the responsibility of being a father and Institute head at such a young age, but I’m so glad that Arthur had a final moment of awareness--I hate that he sacrificed himself, but it was beautiful that during his moment of clarity, his mind focused on saving the people he loved the most.

things that I don’t know how to feel about yet:

Jaime. I’m still really not into him or Diego yet, despite all their talk of good intentions. His interactions with Dru made me think of the Nate-Jessamine relationship for some reason??

Sebastian + Seelie Queen child. I’ve seen this theory around the internet so many times, and I am worried. I am worried because of Dru’s little trip to Faerie involved a BOY WITH WHITE-BLOND HAIR AND GREEN EYES--aka Ash. And he asks about his mother; could it be that the Seelie Queen is hiding him away from everyone else, trying to keep him a secret? Or maybe he’s been kidnapped by the Unseelie King?

And it’s mentioned that he’s around 13, but let’s not forget that a day in the human world was 7 years for Andrew and Arthur when they were trapped in Faerie.