#The first little pieces of her insect form poking through

[alien-hybreed]

Bug Apocalypse TF by ArtbyHaru

[wcrriorhearts]

MODERN VERSE: Of purple tutus & food segregation

When Helaena was born into her family, she was blissfully unaware of the tension brewing in it. Her older sister Rhaenyra was around nine at the time, her brother Aegon one and Helaena was - for all intents and purposes - a very good baby, especially when left alone. Her mother liked to tell everyone that she was very low maintenance and could occupy herself for hours all by herself, never truly crying, unless she was poked and prodded too much, so they quickly learned that she was no child that was clingy.

Being a nepo baby, she did spend a lot of time with a nanny in her early years, who put her oddities off as mere quirks and just laughed whenever Helaena insisted on wearing the same clothes for weeks on end, would have meltdowns when her food touched, and let no one touch her hands or face ( except for her siblings, with whom she was surprisingly affectionate ). Between the ages of 3 and 4, Helaena solely wore a purple tutu with every single outfit, until it was literally hanging by a thread and was finally thrown away - which naturally ended in a meltdown of epic proportion, because Helaena was not done yet with her favorite piece of comfort clothing. It was around that time her mother began questioning whether or not everything was quite normal with her, but - as affluent parents often do - chose to just overlook it and act like nothing was amiss.

With time, Helaena outgrew her meltdowns and her parents were relieved, thinking it had truly just been a phase and she was growing up fine. In truth, Helaena had just learned to internalize her anxiety and overstimulation and hid them better, but they were always there when triggers occurred. When she started school, it was obvious to everyone that she was very attached to her brothers. Though they were not in the same years, Helaena was glued to them in every lunch break and failed to form friendships in her own class. She was extremely quiet and though her grades were excellent, she never seemed to pay attention and daydreamed most of the time, only perking up when the topic interested her.

Those special interests were always very pronounced for Helaena. When she got into something, it was 1000% and nothing else could come close to it. She went through a dinosaur phase, ancient Egypt, archaeology, until she finally settled on insects ( the least favorite topic of every other family member ). She watched them, collected them and begged for all sorts of strange pets her mother always said no to, because she had no interest in sharing the house with locusts or tarantulas. So instead of getting her an insect for her birthday, Rhaenyra bought her her first Jelly Cat insect, a happy little caterpillar that became her emotional support friend. Helaena began taking it absolutely anywhere and soon received Jelly cat bugs and other critters for every occasion. They all neatly occupy shelves in her room and she loves them dearly.

When puberty rolled around, the problems began. Years of trying to suppress her sensory issues and anxiety led to even more anxiety and Helaena began suffering from crippling panic attacks. Every day was torture for her, because even the most simple things caused her to have severe panic attacks to the point of passing out. After three of those instances, she was seen by a professional, who diagnosed her with all sorts of things and medicated her so vehemently that Helaena could taste colors and see sounds. That, to her, was even worse than the panic attacks, because she constantly felt like she was not in control of her body anymore, so they saw a second psychiatrist who eventually truly helped.

Helaena graduated High School with honors and it came to no surprise that she decided to study entomology. She took a gap year first, however, just to have a time of rest before her degree would start, spending time with her brothers, sister and nephews and flourishing for the first time since entering primary education. With no pressure or expectations on her, Helaena was entirely herself and suddenly developed an almost bubbly and happy personality, much better at communicating her needs and boundaries. Her food still isn't allowed to touch on her plate and she thinks of her purple tutu almost daily, but mentally she is in a much better place than she not long ago

[shirtlesssammy]

Mittens has thrown out some great questions! Here are some VERY SERIOUS answers that you should not take seriously AT ALL.

Ahem.

"On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door Caprice.

There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe." - Supernatural 5x22 Swan Song

Oh really? The WHOLE universe?

Look, I know what Kripke had in mind with this line, but consider.

Dean Winchester loves his car.

Dean Winchester has also been to Heaven before and tasted that translucent bubble-tinged reality. He has a very set idea of what is "real" and Heaven!Baby? She ain't real.

5x22 tries to argue that Sal Moriarty was the first owner of the Impala but I CONTEND that Dean Winchester cozied up to his Angel-of-Himself lover and gave him the ol' soft eyes until Cas agreed to re-corporate him and send him back in time for a gleeful joyride of the fresh-off-the-factory-floor Baby.

Did Dean decide to interfere with the timeline at that point? Heck no! He's seen time travel before and frankly, it's exhausting. He's just planning on hanging in the late 60's and taking a sweet road trip to follow Zepp around the continent. Cas will join him soon - there're just a few things he needs to wrap up with Jack's de-godhood-ifying.

So, Dean gets in his car. It's not HIS car quite yet, of course. It's missing all the little things that made it theirs (toys, scratches, initials). That made it HIS. "You've been rehymenated, Baby," he whispers as he caresses the dash. (And is suddenly grateful not to have any ride-alongs.)

But when Dean opens the glove compartment... KA-POW! A mysterious letter falls out. It's addressed to HIM.

Dean slumps in his seat, defeated. "Son of a bitch," he mutters. "I just wanted ONE little time-travel vacation."

He waits for Cas to haul him back to the present. Er, future? Instead, Cas is MIA. Dean finds himself caught up in a web of universe-defending intrigue, chasing the shadow of his strange messenger, delivering mysterious letters to fathers, and otherwise tearing up the late 60's and early 70's.

The Impala, you see, is the most important object in the whole universe because Dean loves his car soooooo much that it became the letter repository to get Dean Winchester to save life, the universe, and everything.

Now, Mittens questions whether the Akrida arrived as a result of meddling with the timeline, or whether Dean is meddling with the timeline to fight the Akrida. SALIENT QUESTIONS! But the REAL question is: who dropped the letter in the Impala's glove box?

The answer lies in another blast-from-Supernatural's-past: Jesse Turner. Jesse lived in Australia for quite some time until rumors of murderous, giant insects damaged his zen. They say "everything's bigger in Australia," but Jesse crossed the supernatural world enough as a child to smell a rat. With Lucifer FINALLY DEAD, his powers have dwindled greatly. However, he kept up on the Winchesters through a series of terrible novels. (Nothing like reading your own unauthorized biography in lurid fiction form.) He knows about Dean's car obsession. He knows about Dean's death (through sketchy dark web forums). And he has JUST ENOUGH mojo to send one little piece of paper back in time. To a very specific place which he suspects Dean will someday visit.

Right now, Dean's pushing over dominoes like a cat poking at a vast Rube Goldberg machine. The goal? Save the world, get back to Cas, and finally FINALLY watch Zepp live back in their heyday.

And how do his parents and their friends fit into all of this? Why are Mary's friends a major blank spot in the Supernatural canon? Well, Lata and Carlos will eventually time travel to the future when Carlos's VW bus gets enchanted with a combination of Rowena's magic and the Akrida time-and-space juice (it's a long story). But the short story is, that's how the world eventually achieved global peace. (If you're picturing a Bill and Ted style concert ending, you're right!) And Dean Winchester can finally go on the ultimate Zepp concert date with his best pal, his main squeeze, his sunshine, Cas.

Do you have any theories on why Dean is doing what he's doing in The Winchesters? Like WHY time travel and give his dad the letter?? What timeline is Dean from (post- or pre- rusty nail death?? Alt universe??) ??¿?¿¿?

heck, i have TOO MANY theories on what he might be doing :'D

I mean, we still don't know where this series falls within the original timeline, you know? like, we don't know if this all is supposed to be "what dean did after defeating chuck but before the events of the finale" or if this is all supposed to be taking place *within Heaven* or within whatever afterlife dean found himself in (was that ACTUALLY heaven we saw in the finale, or some sort of weird trick?), or is dean somehow back on earth after all of that and we haven't seen the explanation for how that happened yet? DON'T KNOW!

And why is he revisiting his parents' early days? What hidden truth is he attempting to uncover? or perhaps even rectify if the timeline was being disrupted by the akrida... or is Dean having "tipped over a domino" to even begin telling this story the genesis of the akrida? are the akrida simply a "universe balancing device" that sprang up BECAUSE dean was trying to fiddle with the timeline?

WE JUST DON'T KNOW!

what is the purpose of telling us this story now? especially considering the original series' final season was dedicated to the concept of God As Author, and his Characters™ defying his story for them. And now Dean is apparently the author of this story we are seeing? WHY? What is his goal in telling us this story?

Heck, I've clearly got more questions than answers, but with only two episodes left, and episode 13 apparently set to give us a lot of answers, i'm hoping we get something satisfying and aren't just left with even bigger questions :'D

(what I'm really hoping is that we get at least another full season of the show to learn more about all these characters, because i love them and i'm not ready to let them go yet... i need more carlos and lata in my life!)

[hannah-the-red-head]

A Third Submission to the Imagines Society”

(League of villains meets an Autistic child with a quirk that is the definition of too good for this world and then some)

You were a tiny thing when Twice, Toga and Magne stumbled across you at the park, staring intently at what looked like your shoes with your back turned.

Magne summarized that you were most likely around 5 or 6 years old based on the kindergarten uniform you wore, the adorable hat hanging on your back while your (h/l), (h/s) (h/c) was out and about. Usually, the tree would lose interest after a while and go about their merry way.

But there was something about you that made them stay, Toga’s curiosity getting the best of her as she skipped over to where you were on your knees, she then peeked over a shoulder to see you staring in awe at butterfly that was softly moving it’s wings while resting on the petals of a blossom planted in the nearby garden.

It was one that she had never seen before, well at least in real life, but the sandy blonde remembered that she had once seen it on the internet somewhere.

It was a monarch butterfly, and last she or anyone else knew, the species were hanging by a thread and close to extinction over the last 56 years. She had admit that the pictures were close to nothing compared to the real thing as Toga watched with starry eyes at how the orange colors splashed with black and white glowed in the sunlight.

Magne herself, followed by Twice then decided to follow toga’s lead when she began to giggle like an actual schoolgirl instead of the blood obsessed vampire they knew and loved. The two peeking at the sight of both you and Toga being the surprising perches of a collection of what looked to be more Monarch butterflies that seemingly appeared out of no where.

And one of them was perched right on the tip of Toga’s nose.

Meanwhile, you had taken notice that you had a butterfly watching buddy the second you felt her crouched down next to you, your glowing (e/c) eyes staring at her with curiosity before deciding that she was interesting enough for you to deem her harmless, despite not knowing the truth.

Because in your young and innocent head, anyone that appreciated butterflies as much as you did was a good person and/or possible friend in your book.

She looked at you when she felt your eyes on her and gave you a big smile, which from what you learned meant that she was happy. So that meant that she likes you too. You smiled widely back and a series of bright rainbow colored balls of light lifted themselves off your little form, your quirk creating more butterflies from them while your new friend’s eyes sparkled.

Your quirk was called Wonder, the specialist who gave it that name having been inspired by the same emotion felt after witnessing you use your quirk at first hand to bring a rat back to life after it had been killed by a mousetrap, and later on when they returned back to the room to see that it had been filled with butterflies flying beautifully above them.

Nowadays, you mainly used your quirk to create butterflies.

Why?

Because butterflies made you happy, they made you calm, they took your worries away... and watching them was akin to what your therapist at the orphanage called stimming, your hand movements if you easily became overwhelmed resembling a butterfly flapping it’s delicate wings.

You were also fond of anything that felt like the texture closest to what you thought butterfly wings looked. However, this obsession was also the reason why your were ostracized by the other children, ignored completely by them at the worst despite how hard the workers at the orphanage tried to explain what your condition was.

You didn’t understand why the workers had the need to get the other kids to like you, if you wanted friends, you’d get some yourself on your own.

And you never understood why you had to take speech therapy, wasn’t writing in your notebook enough? You hated loud noises, they scared away things, things that are... nice.

Things like butterflies and rats and rabbits and deer, which meant that you couldn’t appreciate them anymore if they left.

So, why was there a need to make noise or let alone talk? You could never control how loud your voice was anyways. You didn’t care about how sometimes you overheard the caretakers at the orphanage whispered things about how alien you acted.

Which led to where you were now, little you having completely forgotten that you were separated from the other children heading back towards the orphanage after school had finished when you eyes spotted a flower that looked familiar until your quirk manifested the butterfly.

They sounded as if you were broken as a human.

When in reality you weren’t, you weren’t broken and needed to be fixed. At first it made you believe those words, but the moments where your eyes caught onto anything relating to those paper thin wings that radiated with the colors of the rainbow, you’re mind went to an alternate world where those who spoke about your strangeness were nonexistent.

It was then that you remembered seeing the same flower from the picture book at your school, the pink and green flora being the type of chosen roost for the orange, white and black insect to rest on if they got tired.

You never knew how much time passed when you felt your new friend’s presence near you until you turned around silently to see a schoolgirl older than your smiling peacefully at your creation, who then smiled at you.

Smiles meant something good, right?

Your quirk activated instinctually, your subconscious telling you to make your friend happy again by creating more things that made her happy, like how butterflies made you happy. You watched as the manifested insects flew over to the girl and rested on her shoulders, two nestled on the wild hair of her twin buns and one on her nose, the sensation of it’s delicate wings tickling her skin bringing a giggle out of her.

You copied her, giggling as well as you knew that laughing is what friends did. The exchange between you two led to a pair of others appearing behind your friend, the both of them watching in awe at how gentle you were.

Meanwhile in their perspective, Twice and big sis Magne were in awe.

This was a side of Toga that the pair had never seen before, so their interest in you grew steadily as they approached you both, seeing that the number of butterflies had grown the closer the became, the same orbs of light appearing to change into other species before the skies above the park had clouds of multicolored wings flying above like a piece of artwork created by nature.

It felt like a blessing to witness a sight like this, a much desired peace accomplished after so many months of being on the run from heroes and the police.

Twice jumped up and began to comically twirl about among the flocks of winged bugs, his splitting personalities having been silenced by the Nirvana he felt surrounding him, only stopping when he heard a few giggles left your mouth while you tried to keep up with him and Toga’s free styling dances without a care in the world.

The four of you not caring that you were getting strange looks and even scowls from those who crossed your paths in order to get a better look at the butterflies conjured by your beautiful quirk.

By the time the sun had set, you and your new friends had collapsed onto the grass, laughing in between breaths from all the fun you shared in those hours of innocent fun.

And you were the one to give that sense of childhood purity of fun back to them without realizing it. In your mind, you were happy that you had finally made friends by yourself as with a kick of your short legs you sat up and turned to the one closest to you, a tall woman with sunglasses and short hair the other two called “Big Sis Mag”.

You poked her cheek and she turned her face towards yours. Taking a deep breath, you decided to try something new that you hadn’t done or were comfortable with.

You: (Yy...yourrr n....nnamme!).... (Your Name)!

It was hard at first, being silent for most of your childhood being the reason as to why you sounded like a newborn attempting to say their first word. But the pride you felt as you pointed to yourself when you said your name clearly on the second try was amazing.

“Big Sis’” eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you understood why she was shocked as the only noises you made were giggles and squeals.

You: (Your name)!.... B-big sissy... Mmmmmag! Fr...friends! T-t-too...Toga! Fri..ends! Twi...Twice! Friends!

All three had unknown expressions present while you gave them a wide toothy grin that you had never given anyone except for your mama.

Twice: I think I’m gonna cry.... No, I’m not! Grow a pair!

Twice cartoonishly wept through his mask, tears that would only exist within an Animé pouring from the eyes of his black and grey mask before stopping almost immediately, his face changing to that of a stoic man drawn in comic books.

Toga just smiled at Twice, before a weak tug on her cardigan pulled her attentions to you, your arms held out wide and with an excited glow to you. You always remembered the warmth your mother’s hugs were growing up, how safe and loved you felt when your adorable self tackled her leg in a weak koala hug before she pulled you into her own arms.

Toga: Oh does (y/n)-chan want a hug?

You nodded and tackled the blonde, arms wrapped around her neck with you cheek pressed against hers, something your mother called “cuddle bumps” as you hated it when someone kissed you.

You: C-cu-cuddle bu-bumps!

Twice: I want cuddle bumps! No, I don’t that’s weird!

You nuzzled your cheek against hers, the teenage girl internally squealing and hugging you back as she was overcome with a sense of some maternal need to protect you and the light your little self emanated, both figuratively and literally as your quirk caused you to glow a warm pink color.

Toga playfully stuck out her tongue towards him, when an idea came to her.

—————

Shigaraki: And the most logical thing that you could ever think of in that moment.... was to bring this brat home?!

Toga’s cheeks puffed up as she hugged your little form from behind while you fiddled with your quirk, a manifested butterfly perched in the palm of your hand. You loved the feeling of your big sister’s soft cardigan as she hugged you.

Toga: Of course, Shiggy! I mean they’re an orphan left behind by those “caretakers”, we even waited to see if anyone would come looking.

Twice: Yeah, it was so nerve wracking! I was bored beyond belief....

Shigaraki let out an aggravated sigh, knowing that you had wormed your way into the hearts of the most in the league, Dabi being the first to cave when you used your quirk to soothe the pain in his burnt skin. He didn’t know why, but the fire quirk user’s eyes softened when you gazed up at his skin and your smile faded, a look of genuine worry that he possibly never experienced in some time as your tiny hand went up to hold his hand with the both of yours.

The rest of the already shocked league watching as an aura glowed from your small form, the glow then moving up your arms and finally covering Dabi in the glow before then pulling away into orbs that popped like soap bubbles filled with fireflies.

Dabi reacted in a way that not even he could describe as all the unbearable burning pain his scars brought him disappeared, a strange surge of.... calm washed over him.

It was the kind of calm that one would feel when a powerful storm dissipates, allowing the warm sun to bathe the earth once again. 

And it was the type of calm that brought a heavy exhale out of Dabi, almost as if he had finally learned to breathe, tears falling down his cheeks and startling him, a hand shooting up to touch his wet face and pulling it away to see what was falling from his eyes.

This... made the tears fall harder.

Dabi had long forgotten what it felt like to cry actual salt water tears instead of blood. A relieved upwards tilt pulled at his lips as he fell to his knees before you, no words exchanged, just glances and a gentle grip of your joined hands.

You: No pain?

Your concern overweighed your struggling speech, your free hand raising up to hover next to his cheek. He chuckled softly, allowing you to place your hands onto his face.

Dabi: No pain. All better.

Your quirk was befitting for such a gentle, caring and kind being as you.

To put it simply, you could restore a person’s injuries, negative outlook on life due to traumatic experiences, and even their lost sense of morality via through your touch, being in your presence, or even by witnessing your creations first hand.

This was your power, a quirk that purified the evil living within this cruel world.

You could literally restore a person or persons lost sense of morality, your quirk changing a sociopathic killer into a saint seeking redemption just by spending an hour with you. 

Your quirk also allowed you to heal any kind of wound or cure any illness, it could even replace missing limbs and the like as long as you kept your focus.

And it was meant to be protected.

Which is why you were taken into the protection of the league of villains, the only group of people who were the first to actually care for you after your mama’s passing, and didn’t speak badly of you or your condition.

Because they didn’t mind that you were autistic, they didn’t see you as broken or wrong. How did you know that they didn’t ostracize you?

They told you.

Twice: You, broken? Ha, that’s fresh! At least you don’t have more than one voice in your head...

Toga: My quirk needs me to drink the blood of the person i’m going to transform into in order for it to work, and because of that, I was pushed away by everyone for how creepy it made me look.

Magne: Anyone would be proud to call you their kid with a drop of a hat. So what if your special needs, it doesn’t make you any less human, sweetie.

Dabi didn’t say anything when you asked, in your broken speech, if you were broken. Instead, he just ruffled your hair and let you wear his jacket all day.

Compress: This world is filled with imperfections, but who is to say that imperfections are ugly and unwanted. To me, imperfections are where true beauty lies as it shows that despite their flaws, they try again and again to make themselves better.

Spinner: Kid, I am a walking talking lizard with pink hair and a desire to follow Stain’s path to create a society where only those who embody the traits of true heroes like All Might are allowed to become heroes.

You didn’t know how to react as he continued.

Spinner: If anything, you are the most normal out of all of us, so don’t go hating on yourself because you’re brain is wired differently. You’re perfect just the way you are.

Magne: Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say, Spinner!

Spinner: BIG SIS MAGNE?!?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!

Toga: Enough to know that you give the best pep talks!~

[americasass81]

Love In The Wild

Warnings:- Fluff, M & F Smut (nothing too graphic), Very, very, very Mild Stalker Behavior, Mild Coarse Language, Teasing, Kinda Friends to Enemies to Lovers. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. All mistakes are my own. Feedback and reblogs are welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairing:- softish!Brock Rumlow x Named Female Character

Author’s Note 1:- Okay so this is once again a very special piece for @saiyanprincessswanie as she faces into yet another surgery. Good luck Missy and know that all our thoughts are with you. Hope this lifts your spirits and helps make you smile. {PS:- I also included a little Frank trivia in this but I’m not sure if anyone else will spot it}.

Author’s Note 2:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics​ for creating the included Floral Leaves divider. Please go check out Daisy’s work and pass on some love.

Author’s Note 3:- This is also my first time writing for a Named Character and I hope it works okay.

Synopsis:- Meeting a stranger in a place that holds a special place in your heart may be the key to unlocking your future happiness.

Word Count:- 5,378

Sitting out on the porch of the dining area as the morning sun shone its rays towards the ground and the early risers milled around the area, you wished you could wake up like this every morning. Nature was in full bloom all around and listening to the adults chatting while the odd child ran around enjoying their little freedom, you truly felt like you had come home. Finally feeling like yourself again, this trip was simply about reconnecting with nature and finding joy in the little things. Finishing up breakfast, you walked back through the lobby of the lodge and smiled as a small child skipped up to you and handed you some freshly picked wildflowers before running off back to her parents after you thanked her. Sniffing the flowers as you continued on back to your room, you remembered when you too held that child-like innocence and wondering where it went, you hoped that she at least would be someone who could hold onto hers.

Arriving at your room, you opened the door and stepping inside, placed the flowers in a glass of water before picking up the activity pamphlet and looking down the list of activities. Oakridge may have been a nature park, but that didn't stop it from having an impressive choice of activities for those that weren't exactly interested in the great outdoors. Deciding however that you would take advantage of the glorious morning and enjoy a hike along by the river flowing down from the mountains, you dressed accordingly, pulled out your hiking poles and headed off at a leisurely pace. Placing one foot in front of the other, the wind through the trees touched your soul and as you headed along the hiking trail you swore you could hear the voices of those that came before you reaching out across time and space to deliver the peace you had long since sought. Losing yourself in the wonder all around you, step by step your cares melted away as the sound of the nearby river and the local forest creatures reminded you why you were here in the first place.

Bending down to examine a rare plant, while taking a drink from your water bottle, it seemed that a higher power however had something else in mind for you when the sound of a branch snapping off to your right sharpened your senses and focused your attention firmly on your surroundings. Turning towards the sound as a burly, gruff looking man appeared before you, you figured him to be yet another park visitor until he opened his mouth and you identified him as nothing more than an annoyance.

"Well, well, well cricket, imagine finding you out here. You lost? I thought for sure someone like you'd be holed up back at the lodge with a hot chocolate and a nice book." he quipped and all you wanted to do was reach up and slap him. As it was you instead simply ignored him and walked away in the hope he would get the message.

Hope was not to be your friend in this scenario however as he easily caught up to you and began to point out all the ways in which the surrounding woodland was too dangerous for a delicate thing such as yourself. Breathing in the cool crisp air as you ventured further up the hiking trail, you did your best to ignore this intruder into your peaceful activity, but this task proved impossible as his next statement reached your ears. Asking if it was even safe for you to be outdoors and if you could tell the difference between common woodland plants and poison ivy, you finally had enough and rounded on him. "Now listen here you annoying little insect," you spat as he simply stood there looking at you as if enjoying your reaction, "I'll have you know that as a landscape architect this fragile little thing is far more capable of being outdoors than the likes of you."

Looking you up and down however with a smirk you would later come to enjoy, he simply took a step closer and asked what exactly a landscape architect was. After relaying in detail what exactly it was your job entailed, you finally had enough when he voiced his opinion that no such job actually existed and you were nothing more than a gardener. Losing all patience with him and taking in your strategic location, you smiled a glorious smile before placing your hands against his chest and leaning closer towards his ear. "You know what dickface, maybe my work doesn't sound like a real job, but it does give me the strength to do this," and with one powerful push and a huge amount of luck, the stranger found himself sitting in the river as you laughed and walked away from him.

Gazing after your retreating form as the river continued to flow around him and a few more visitors neared his location, he removed himself from his current location and heading back towards the lodge decided that your fiery spirit was definitely something he had to find a way to explore. Finishing off your hike before heading back to your room to freshen up, you hoped the rest of your trip was free of that arrogant stranger while you figured out what to do with the rest of your day.

Stripping off and stepping into the shower in another part of the lodge, Missy's stranger thought back on how he had landed himself in this position. Sure he thought it funny at the time to sneak up on her having secretly loved her from afar over the years, but seeing it from her point of view it probably wasn't the smartest move. Still he had to admit that fire in her was something to behold and he couldn't wait to see what fun they could have together. For now he set aside his desires, dressed quickly and casually and headed to his truck for his weekly trip to the city to pick up the few essentials he couldn't live without. Driving along with his reliable radio blasting his favorite music, he tried to figure out how best to make it up to his precious girl and so, once reaching the city, his first stop was the flower shop to begin his campaign.

Walking into the bright airy premises, it always amazed Brock just how successful this place had become. Browsing until the last customer completed their business, he then headed over to the counter where the owner and his oldest friend stood waiting with her usual smile. Explaining to Samantha the predicament he had landed himself in, she told him it would have been wonderful to see before she finally took pity on him and made up a special arrangement of roses, lilies and tulips. Agreeing to call back for them on his way home, he paid the bill then headed off on his other business hoping that this gesture would help thaw his beautiful little cricket. Two hours later, having finished up all that he needed to do and collecting the flowers with a warning from Samantha not to screw things up, he drove back to the park somewhat more chipper now that he had parts of a plan in place. Parking in the employee car park, he took the flowers to the reception desk and asked Annie to place them in room 37. Then returning out to his truck to begin removing his purchases, he waited to see if his apology would be accepted.

Stepping out of the shower feeling totally invigorated after your wonderful hike and the glorious shower, you dried off, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and stepped out into the living area to be greeted by a beautiful bouquet of freshly cut flowers. Looking around the room and finding nothing disturbed, you went to the door and peeked out into the hall and not seeing anyone around, shut the door and headed back towards the coffee table. Looking at the arrangement before bending down to inhale their heavenly scents, your eye caught the card poking out between the flowers. Reaching out to pluck the card carefully from the vase, a mixture of emotions worked their way through your body as you read the words displayed before you.

Rummaging around in the recesses of your mind for any explanation for the words staring back at you, your hand dropped the card and you contemplated throwing the vase, flowers included, at something when your mind latched on to the early morning events. Not knowing how the stranger had found out your name or which room you were staying in, the sheer audacity of him to think that you should be sorry for dumping his smug ass in the river made your blood boil and erased the peace and pleasure of the morning's activities. Still as you tried to calm down and remember that you were here to enjoy yourself, you instead decided to throw away the card and pretend the beautiful flowers were simply part of the room's decor. Finally happy with your decision, you picked up the activities pamphlet once again and glancing through it decided that the afternoon art class might be just the thing to distract you from the arrogant stranger who twice now had intruded on your peaceful vacation. Heading off back down to the lobby, you stopped by the cafe for a brownie and a coffee before asking for directions to the art class. Being told how to get there by the polite guy behind the counter, you paid for your items, left a generous tip and headed off towards your next adventure.

Talking to Annie and discovering that the flowers had indeed been delivered to the correct room, Brock sat in his office trying to figure out what miscommunication had occurred this time round. Having watched you grow up and mature through the years as you visited the park, first with your parents and then sometimes on your own, he knew you to be a kind and thoughtful soul so he had to figure in the half day that you had been here you couldn't have that many people to apologize to.

Ringing through to reception, he inquired as to what the occupant of room 37 was up to, but when no one was able to shed any light on the matter, he figured he would simply have to allow the whims of fate to hopefully bring you back to his presence. Finding himself particularly frustrated at the events taking place around him with little to no control over them, he headed off to the lodge's gym to try and work off some of the tension making itself at home in his muscles. Of course he could use the equipment in his own quarters, but his parents had taught him that not only should he know how everything around the lodge worked, he should also keep himself in the trenches and thereby better understand what their guests and visitors needed and thus help cultivate an all-round better vacation experience.

Heading off to the gym fifteen minutes later, all thought of working out was pushed from his mind however as he passed the art room and got an eyeful of the exhibition within. Sure he couldn't see much of the naked male model below the assembled easels, but he could clearly make out Missy's ethereal form sitting on the far left gazing at the man before her as her hand moved back and forth across the canvas. Remembering his parents words and seeing an opportunity to spend some extra time with you, he gave up on his workout, moved away from the door and taking out his phone, dialed Elaine and told her of a change of plan for the art class. Then heading to the changing rooms, he stripped down, slipped on an available robe and waited for Julius to be dismissed.

Sitting around and fine tuning the drawing you were working on while the instructor Elaine explained that another model would be taking over, you were the only one shocked when a new guy took the podium and removed his hooded robe to reveal the stranger you had dumped into the river that morning. Choking on the couch that caught in your throat, your cheeks heated up as your eyes focused in on his package and he winked over at you when his eyes followed your gaze. Giving a jerk of his hips that he was certain you had seen by the way the pencil dropped from your hand and how flustered you had become, he smiled to himself as he got comfortable and continued to be the bane of your existence for the next hour until Elaine called time on the class. Removing your drawings and ducking out quickly from the room, you made for the nearest exit and breathed in some lungfuls of much needed air. Meanwhile back in the art room as Brock thanked Elaine and Julius for letting him sit in, he now took pleasure in the fact that he clearly had an effect on you.

Heading off back to your room when your breathing was once again under control, you tried to figure out how this stranger, whose name you didn't even know, always showed up when you were trying to forget about him. Deciding now that the remainder of your evening was a total bust, you headed to the dining room for dinner before retiring to bed with a good book. Ordering the pasta and following Russell, the maitre d to a table by the window, you then ordered a delicious red wine and set your sights on the evening view beyond the glass. Watching families taking photos, couples and strangers getting to know each other around a campfire and children running around being children, you were pulled out of this wonderland when a waitress appeared with your wine.

Meanwhile, walking into the dining room to check on things as he liked to do, Brock caught Jennifer leaving your table and the view that greeted him took his breath away and tightened his pants. Discreetly bringing your glass to your nose and inhaling the pleasant aroma, you sniffed a few more times, taking longer each round. Finally pressing your lips to the glass, you took a sip and allowed the rich bouquet to settle gently in your mouth. Holding it carefully on your tongue as the flavor assaulted your taste buds, you were so wrapped up in your own little world, you had no idea that your actions were being so closely observed by someone who couldn't help but wonder how it would look and feel to have you pleasure his cock the way you did the wine. At last coming out of his fantasy as you swallowed the liquid inhabiting your mouth, Brock excused himself from Russell's presence and headed off back to his quarters, vowing one day soon to recreate the vision he had just experienced.

Thanking Jennifer once she delivered your meal, you tucked into the delicious spaghetti not knowing that your earlier actions had been interpreted as a glorified sex act. Still eating in peace and enjoying every single bite, you headed back to your room afterwards and curling up with the latest romance novel, lost yourself for a few blissful hours in its pages before laying down in bed and closing your eyes. Hoping that tomorrow would prove a more relaxing day, you had no idea as you drifted off towards sleep that somewhere under the same stars and roof as you, a dark haired, hazel eyed walking god was currently using his hand to relieve the tension a day in your orbit had fostered within him.

Waking the next morning feeling fully rested, you showered, dressed and decided to forego breakfast in favor of a little kayaking. Figuring that no strangers could upset your day out on the water, things took a quick nose-dive when you arrived at the kiosk to discover your mystery stalker doing sit-ups on the ground a few feet away. Deciding you were sick and tired of this complete arse ruining what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, you swiftly headed back to the main lodge and stood in line at reception to be assisted. Finally approaching Annie, you explained to her that while it was not your intention to cause trouble, a guest was causing you to feel very uncomfortable and you would appreciate it if management would do something about it. Assuring you that the matter would be dealt with, you told her you would be in your room awaiting their response. Half an hour later however everything you thought you knew evaporated like steam when you opened your door to discover your strange stalker standing before you.

"Hello Missy, I heard you were looking for me. Mind if I come in?" he asked with a little smirk, though he made no attempt to move forward.

Standing looking at him with your hand on the door, you quickly found your voice as your senses returned to you. "Yes I do mind actually. You have spent the last twenty-four hours showing up everywhere I've been and as a result I have reported you to management. Now, I don't know how you got my name or what made you think I asked to see you, but it would be best if you left before the manager arrives."

"Well in that case, how about I do you one better and get the owner?" he asked before reaching out his hand to you. "Brock Rumlow at your service. You really don't remember me?" he asked with slight disappointment evident in his voice.

Flitting your gaze back and forth between his face and his outstretched hand, the cogs began turning in your mind and a vision appeared before your eyes of you as a child playing on the swings with a boy a few years older than you. Reaching out your hand to shake his, your voice began working again as you asked him for identification before stepping aside to grant him entry.

Closing the door behind him as he walked over to the couch and made himself at home, a thousand questions assaulted your brain, but you figured the best course of action was to order something to calm your nerves before dealing with the hunk of muscle before you. Waiting for the drinks to arrive, you took a seat on one of the chairs opposite and played with the hem of your top while Brock occupied himself with admiring just how flustered his presence made you.

Eventually getting up to answer the knock at the door, he thanked the waiter and poured each of you a glass of wine before offering you yours. "Here cricket, this should help with those pesky nerves." he grinned before sitting back down on the couch.

Taking a huge gulp from the glass, you then set it down on the table before facing him. "I wouldn't be nervous if you didn't keep stalking me. And stop calling me cricket." you snapped.

"You never had a problem with it when we were children." he interrupted. " What's happened Missy? Where's that carefree, nature loving girl who stole my heart when I was twelve years old?" he asked, now moving closer to you.

Looking up at him as the sands of time shifted and took you back to that memory, you smiled slightly at the image of that tender boy who had shown you so many wonderful sights around the park. Pulling yourself back to the present and the now grown up adult in front of you, you no longer saw the stranger who was out to ruin your vacation. "I guess she just needed someone to show her the way back." you answered shyly as you topped up your glass and sat down beside him on the couch.

Catching up on all the things that had happened in your lives through the intervening years, two bottles of wine later found you and Brock stretched out on your bed talking through why both of you were still single. Explaining that he couldn't find anyone to capture his attention or understand his love of nature, you were shocked to realize that you too had a similar experience.

Opening your eyes a few hours later to discover you had fallen asleep on your bed in Brock's arms, you thought once more of the fun you had as children and the feelings that friendship had nurtured within you. Sure you would never admit as much to him, but the love he had for nature and the care and generosity he showed to everyone around him were qualities you had looked for in potential boyfriends. Looking at his sleeping form, you had to wonder if fate was playing a hand in your love life right now but swiftly shoved that thought aside when a pair of hazel eyes met yours and a hand reached up to cup your cheek.

"Hey there Missy, you're a sight to wake up to." his groggy voice greeted and you couldn't help the giggle that left your lips as he pulled you closer and threw his leg across yours. Closing his eyes once again as you snuggled into his strong chest and warm embrace you drifted off once more wondering how a childhood acquaintance could stir such feelings in you all these years later.

Finding yourself jolted awake an hour later, Brock once more showed you all his favorite parts of the park before dragging your tired body back to his rooms and ordering up some dinner. Watching you eat while you told him more about your job and your deep seated desire to leave the city, he couldn't help himself when you raised your glass to have a sip of wine. Telling you of the vision he had the evening before as you sat in the dining room, you gulped down the beverage as your eyes moved along his body and your mind traveled places it hadn't been in a really long time.

Continuing on with your meal as Brock dropped hint after hint about what he'd like to do to you, you gave as good as you got even though your panties gave away the fact that he was clearly winning. Finally finishing up your meal, Brock rose from the table and holding out his hand to you, asked if he could show you the other place that owned his heart. Agreeing apprehensively as you expected him to lead you to his bedroom, you were both shocked and surprised when he opened a hidden door and led you into the most glorious personal library you had ever seen. Covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves with double doors leading out to a balcony he conveniently told you connected to his bedroom, the two comfy chairs by the fire along with the beautiful mahogany table completed the look.

Taking your hand and leading you further inside, your eyes scanned every inch of the room as his hands and lips began roaming over your delicate skin. Moving up towards your ear as your head fell back against his shoulder, the words whispered by his glorious lips sent a shiver down your spine. "Tell me to stop Missy or I'll make you mine forever."

Thus far too lost in the majestic splendor all around you to take much notice of the look of pure adoration Brock was sending your way, Missy now turned around in his arms to face the man who was slowly working his way into her heart. "I . . . I can't Brock. This vacation was meant to be about me finding time to relax and rediscovering what was missing in my life." you breathed out as his lips and hands continued to play your body as if they'd known it all your life.

"I think we've both discovered what's been missing in our lives, cricket." he whispered, though the acoustics in the room allowed you to hear every word perfectly. "Let me worship you the way you deserve and if I fail to rock your word, you can go back to the city and forget this ever happened."

"And otherwise?" you questioned, wondering where his thoughts were leading him.

"If I deliver," he smirked, "you come live out here with me. We're not far from the city anyway, you said you hate it there and it sounds like your career allows you to work from anywhere." he reasoned

Thinking over this proposal you had to admit, you were intrigued. Living in nature and working away from the city sounded like a dream, but to also have someone like Brock dangled in front of you as a potential lover, now that just seemed like icing on your cake. Trying to think as his fingers began worming their way under your top, your breath hitched and all coherent thought left you as Brock zeroed in on your tits.

"Of yeah." you breathed out as his fingers kneaded your bra-covered mounds and his lips made themselves in the sweet juncture between your neck and shoulder. "That feels so good. Please don't stop." you moaned out as your fingers found their way into his hair.

Pulling back slightly to work your top off your body, it was now his turn to moan at the glorious sight standing before him. With two perky mounds delicately wrapped in midnight blue lace, he couldn't help but give voice to that old saying. "You know, it's been said when a lady wears lingerie this sexy, she expects it to be seen."

Giggling at this remark as his hands moved down to cup your ass, you leaned forward and taking his lower lip between your teeth, bit it gently before moving your hands along his t-shirt covered abs. Feeling the chiseled structure beneath your fingers, Brock looked amused as your brow furrowed while you thought about what you wanted to do next. Leaning forward to place his forehead against yours, Brock didn't help all that much as he tried to egg you on. "Go do it Missy, you know you want to."

Moving your hands once more along his stomach, you winked up at him before placing your hands in front of his throat and successfully ripping his t-shirt down the front. Squealing as this shocked Adonis picked you up and laid you on the rug in front of the fire, it was now your turn to be surprised as his lips descended on your left breast and his hand grabbed hold of the right. Moaning and writhing beneath him as his own incoherent babbling joined you, all sound was replaced with incessant giggling as he began rubbing his stubbled face along your body. Continuing until you were a laughing, tear stained mess, Brock then moved back up your body to worship your breasts the other way but this time his free hand began to work on your jeans. Moving your hands to help him out, he bit into your flesh and when you yelped and slapped his arm playfully, he grabbed hold of your jeans and pulled them apart.

Now kissing and licking all over your panties, he couldn't hide the smirk at the noticeable moisture present there and as his tongue worked you closer and closer to the edge, you screamed to the high heavens when he moved back abruptly and pulled you from the floor. "Blast it Brock, what are you doing? I didn't tell you to stop."

"I know Missy, but maybe you'd treat me to a dance before I ruin you forever." he said as he walked away towards a sound system you only now just noticed.

"No no no . . . You can't. Brock. Do me." Missy whined as he paused to glance over his shoulder to gaze on your near naked form.

"Oh my sweet cricket, how could I deny you anything?" he asked and you would later suspect that all he had been waiting for was you to give in to your desires. Walking back towards you, he lifted you up and this time placing you on the table, began rubbing his jean-clad crotch against your panties. Watching you lose yourself all over again, you decided you had enough however when he leaned forward and kissed your lips before leaning up on his elbows and telling you it was getting late. Finding the same strength you had the previous day, you reached forward and swiftly undoing his belt, successfully maneuvered his jeans and boxers down his legs before reaching out to grasp his semi-hard dumbstick. Hissing as your fingers closed around his shaft, you swatted his hands away as you sat up and began running your hand along his member while it was now his turn to moan above you.

"Oh fuck cricket. Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked as you flicked your wrist before moving down to cup his balls.

Giving a squeeze as you ran your tongue along his neck, your hand returned to his cock as your lips settled by his ear. "Wouldn't you like to know. Now, do you know what to do with that thing or would you like me to show you?"

Laughing that he was getting to see more of that fire he so admired about you, he swiftly removed your panties and running his fingers through your folds, was not at all surprised to find them and you were utterly soaked. Replacing those same fingers with his cock, he moved it back and forth along your pussy a couple of times before plunging it and his fingers into your flower and mouth. Smirking at you as you just lay there, breathing through your nose as he used you how he saw fit, you now knew how it felt to be stuffed to the point of pain and it felt good. Finally removing his fingers from your mouth, you gave voice to the pleasure he was pulling from you as he flipped you over and held your legs as his plunging rod pushed you nearer and nearer to that glorious finish you knew was just within reach. Instinctively knowing you needed a little more, he first decided to have a bit more fun.

"You feel that Missy? Feel what you do to me? Is this what you pictured yesterday as you sat in class ogling my package?"

Biting down on your lip both to keep from crying out at the building pressure and to not answer his question, you stopped being capable of much when he wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled you almost off the the table and held your waist with one hand while his hips pistoned into you at a faster pace. Now grasping the table as best you could while chanting his name over and over and over again, you were shocked that you didn't pass out when his fingers connected with your clit and your walls clamped around him as a powerful orgasm flowed through you.

Whimpering from over-stimulation as he continued to chase his own release, you came once more before you realized Brock still hadn't finished. Begging now for him to stop, he promised you could give him one more, which is exactly what you did as his balls clenched, his thrusts became erratic and you both came to the feeling of warm streams hitting your walls while your release gushed around his still twitching phallus. Easing himself out of your still trembling flower, he picked you up bridal style and carrying you gently to the bedroom, continued into the attached bathroom and turning on the shower, proceeded to wash you both before tenderly laying you down on what felt like a bed of clouds. Whispering words of love as he held you close, you drifted off to sleep in the arms of your childhood friend who years later reminded you that the dreams we dream as kids sometimes do come true.

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie

[amyhendry-contextualstudiesyear1]

The Legacy of Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo is a Mexican born artist formerly remembered for her paintings, more specifically her paintings based on nature and Mexican culture as well as her many self-portraits. Kahlo took up painting whilst recovering for a bus accident she was in as a teenager, the accident left her in a full body cast for quite some time and painting was her way of distracting her from the pain of recovery. Her work is heavily inspired by her culture which she incorporates in the clothing and scenery that she depicts in her paintings. In her lifetime she completed over 140 paintings (55 of which being self-portraits). A common theme in Kahlo’s work is both physical and emotional pain, the physical pain coming from her multiple surgeries she had to undergo because of her accident and her emotional pain came from her rocky relationship with her husband, fellow artist Diego Rivera (who she married twice). Despite that Kahlo is recognised as one of the greatest artist Mexico has ever seen and has become on of the most widely known artist in the world.

Kahlo was born in Coyoacán, Mexico City on the 6th of July 1907 and her full name is Magdalena Carmen Frieda Kahlo y Calderón. Kahlo’s father was a photographer who immigrated from Germany to Mexico where he met her mother Matilde, she is the third child with her two older sisters Matilde and Adriana and her younger sister Cristina. Even before her accident Kahlo had problems with her mobility as she contracted polio at a young age that damaged her right foot and caused her to have a limp from the age of six. In 1922 Kahlo became one of the only female students to attend the renowned National Preparatory School in which she became very politically active and joined the Young Communist League and the Mexican Communist Party whilst still a student. Not long after (1928) she married fellow artist Diego Rivera in what would become a very rocky and unstable relationship going through several periods of separation and rekindling, it was this relationship that would inspire some of her most famous paintings.

Kahlo first exhibited her work in 1939 in an exhibit in Paris, her work received massive praise and not long after Kahlo was commissioned by the Mexican government for five portraits of important Mexican women in 1941, however she was unable to finish the project due to the passing of her father as well as her chronic health problems. In 1953 Kahlo got her very first solo exhibit in her home city and, despite being bedridden, she refused to miss the opening and arrived by ambulance to celebrate with attendee’s. After Kahlo’s passing in 1954 her work became the symbol for female creativity and helped fuel the feminist movement in the 70’s, it was such events that has made her artwork iconic. “Frida expresses her own experiences in her works, it is exactly what she is living in her present, how she interprets it and how she believes that others live it. She paints after her divorce, as already mentioned before, “Las dos Fridas”, which we can locate within Surrealism (1939), because the surrealists do not want to copy reality but prefer to capture their reality, which is what they interpret of her dreams, or in the case of Frida, her own experiences, since she was able to create wonderful works from them. (…) Frida differs from the surrealists because she does not pretend to paint her dreams or liberate the unconscious, but through the technique of surrealism expresses her own experiences, which emanate suffering.” – Galeria Valmar, artes visuals, 2019.

The Broken Column 

For this next part I wanted to analyse some of Kahlo’s most famous paintings and explore the deeper meaning behind them, starting with ‘The Broken Column’. ‘The Broken Column’ was a self-portrait created in 1944 shortly after a spinal surgery Kahlo underwent due to her accident, the surgery left her in a full body cast and a spinal brace which can be seen in the painting. Also in the painting we can see her body appearing almost cut in half, as if her spine had been ripped out, as well as nails poking out of her body. This actively demonstrates the physical pain constant years of surgery has caused Kahlo with the nails being a physical representation of such. Through the centre of her body the column taking the place of her spine is broken in several places creating the effect that it’s about to crumble and collapse on itself. Almost all of Kahlo’s self-portraits are meant to display her suffering caused by her accident, which left her both unable to bear children and ended her dreams of becoming a doctor, this is often shown by her facial expressions with ‘The Broken Column’ being no exception. After a closer look you can tears falling down her face as well as strong highlights in her pupils to emphasise the physical and emotional pain she was suffering. “The Broken Column was painted shortly after Frida Kahlo had undergone another surgery on her spinal column. The operation left her bedridden and “enclosed” in a metallic corset (…) The accident ended Kahlo’s dreams of becoming a doctor and caused her pain and illness for the rest of her life. (…) Although her face is bathed in tears, it doesn’t reflect a sign of pain. The nails piercing her body are a symbol of the constant pain she faced.” – Zuzanna Stanska, The daily art magazine, 2017.

Some people also believe that this painting is not just a representation of the pain Kahlo endured because of her health, many believe that it is also a commentary on the emotional pain caused by her unstable marriage. Most of the Kahlo’s most iconic pieces are inspired by her suffering and serves as a visual representation to her inner thoughts and emotions, her marriage being a large source of suffering throughout her lifetime. Some view the fragmented column lodged in her chest to be fragments of her marriage impaling her. “Despite the somewhat in-your-face symbolism, this is a favourite subject for bad art theory papers, identifying the column as everything from her fragmented marriage to a giant phallus penetrating her body. While such interpretations could be partially true, we think that sometimes a spinal column is just a spinal column (…) She referred to her medical ordeal as her “punishment.”  She also took her tragedy in good humour, saying of this painting, “You must laugh at life...Look very closely at my eyes...the pupils are doves of peace. That is my little joke on pain and suffering…”  Some claim the larger nails over her heart reflect her tortured relationship with Diego Rivera.” – Griff Stecyk, Startle, 2019.

Thinking about death

The next painting I have chosen to analyse is titled ‘Thinking of Death’ which is a self portrait created in 1943. This painting was created around the time Kahlo’s health really began to deteriorate as it depicts herself surrounded by nature with a small skull in her for head. Kahlo painted herself in very traditional clothing with her hair done up in a bun. The skull depicted in her forehead is supposed to represent the fears Kahlo had due to her health battles, with how sick she was death was a constant thought for her with it having come so close multiple times in her life. In Mexican culture death can mean the rebirth of life with is meant to be represented by the lively green leaves behind her as well as her facial expression which shows no sign of fear or panic suggesting Kahlo’s acceptance of death being another part of life. “Due to her poor health condition, death is an inevitable thought which lingering over her mind. In this painting, death is symbolized as skull and crossbones which shows up in her forehead. In ancient Mexican culture, death also means rebirth and life.” – FridaKahlo.org, 2017.

The skull itself represents the thought of death and sits right were ones third eye would be, this suggests that maybe Kahlo views the thought of death as some kind of wisdom instead of a fear, although Kahlo never wished to be labelled as a surrealist artist as her paintings come from her reality. “In Kahlo’s collective work, death seems to pervade almost every one of her paintings as an expression of pain, or a motif of oppression concerning female gender roles. Kahlo employs an almost anatomical eye in looking at her form, juxtaposing it beside images of adorned skeletons.” – MaryFrances Knapp, Seven Pounds, 2017.

Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird

The final painting I have chosen to analyse is titled ‘Self-portrait with Hummingbird and Thorn Necklace’ which is another self-portrait completed in 1940. In this painting Kahlo is surrounded by animals such as a monkey and a black cat with a large necklace of thorns around her neck, in the thorns there is a hummingbird tangled amongst them. She is also surrounded by green leaves much like ‘Thinking about Death’ with insects like dragonflies and butterflies in her hair, with a blue sky barely peaking behind the leaves. The painting was completed soon after Kahlo’s messy divorces with Rivera following the theme of suffering throughout her paintings. The thorns around her neck could be a visual representation of how it felt to grieve her relationship much like the nails did in ‘The Broken Column’, though it could have a religious meaning referring to Jesus’s crown of thorns. Kahlo also incorporates Mexican culture into this piece with each animal representing something different that is relevant to the context of the painting with hummingbirds symbolising love, black cats symbolising bad luck, Dragonflies symbolising prosperity and monkeys symbolising lust. “This self-portrait was created following Kahlo’s divorce to Diego Rivera (…) There are obvious religious overtones to the piece using Jesus’s crown of thorns. Kahlo has painted herself as a Christian martyr, enduring the pain of her failed marriage (…) In Mexican culture, hummingbirds signify falling in love and are used in love charms (…) Kahlo often used vibrant flora and fauna as backgrounds for her self-portraits, to create a claustrophobic space teeming with fertility. It is thought that the emphasis of her monobrow and moustache – with the lines of her eyebrows mimicking the wingspan of the hummingbird around her neck – was intended as a feminist statement.” – Tara Lloyd, Singul art Magazine, 2019

This painting is a great look into Kahlo’s attention to detail and how every piece of her paintings represents something, she is very in touch with her culture and has great understanding as how to show her emotions and life experiences in each of her pieces. “Like many other of her paintings, this artwork is a lot akin to a painted assortment of symbols. Every element in this painting gives specific clues to Kahlo's mental state, perhaps none more than her still, direct, emotionless gaze that seems to express the immediacy of her pain.” Audrey V, Wide Walls, 2018

To sum up everything thus far Frida Kahlo is an incredible artist who poured her life into her work, her pain and passion has made her paintings so iconic in this modern age. She has become a symbol not only for Mexican artists but female artists as well, paving the way for many like her in the years to come. In response to why she painted so many self-portraits Kahlo responded, “I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best”.

Bibliography

Galeria Valmar, artes visuals, 2019

Zuzanna Stanska, The daily art magazine, 2017.

Griff Stecyk, Startle, 2019.

FridaKahlo.org, 2017

MaryFrances Knapp, Seven Pounds, 2017

Tara Lloyd, Singul art Magazine, 2019

Audrey V, Wide Walls, 2018

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 7

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 7 - Police Station

His early morning class was basically just background noise. After trying to listen to the professor, all the sentences blurred together until there was only a buzzing sound.

Lin Yan propped himself up with his elbow on the table, his head nodding off again and again.

"These Ming Dynasty shirts were made of jade-coloured cloth and silk. They had wide-sleeves and circular collars, with black ribbons and seams hanging down.

Even prisoners wore this style of clothing."

The city was immersed in sleep at midnight, and there was no activity insight. Lin Yan drove his car from the residential area to the main road, and the night breeze came in, blowing the hair on his forehead.

A person appeared silently in the middle of the road.

Lin Yan gasped. Too close to swerve out of the way, he subconsciously slammed on the brakes, "Squeak--"

The huge inertia made him rush forward. He prayed that he didn't get into an accident. When he looked up again, he saw the front of the car stopped less than two metres away from the person, but the person stood perfectly still as though he hadn't seen the car. There is no intention of moving out of the way at all. Did this guy want to die? Lin Yan's hand grabbed his chest. He flashed the car lights twice to signal to the person to move aside. After seeing the person clearly, Lin Yan's mind turned to static.

The man’s feet were reversed, with heels facing forward and toes facing backward.

He slowly raised his head towards Lin Yan. His head was a skull covered with chunks of flesh with bone peeking through. His lips were more than half-rotten, two rows of slanted white teeth exposed. There was a stiff, crooked grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth, and dark laughter sounded in Lin Yan's ears. . .

Lin Yan's body trembled and he was thrown back awake.

"Skirts were slightly lighter in colour in the early Ming Dynasty; white skirts were promoted during the Chongzhen period. There were one or two inches of embroidery around the hem of the skirts. . .

"At the end of the Ming Dynasty, it developed into eight or ten inches. Pleated skirts were very popular, with fine and large folds..."

It was the middle of the day, these were human voices.

. . . Was that a nightmare?

Lin Yan recovered from his mini heart attack and tried to slow his breathing, but his heart couldn't stop beating.

Hesitantly, a cold hand touched his hair lightly. It stopped on the back of his neck as if it were soothing, but it disappeared in an instant. Lin Yan froze. The anger and constant anxiety of being violated at any time would make anyone paranoid. His anger came to a breaking point; ghost encounters at night, dreaming of ghosts during the day, would it ever stop? With a wave of his hand, he threw the textbook to the side, slapped the table, stood up, and shouted, "Fucking try it again! Come at me, I'm not afraid!"

The book fluttered across the table and chairs in the front row, and the papers in the book scattered like snow. Lin Yan stood in a daze, and it took a moment for him to snap out of it. Looking around, his confusion melted into overwhelming embarrassment. He saw the hundreds of students in the classroom turned back and stared at him. The teacher that taught his Ming Dynasty costume research class stood on the podium at the front of the room and looked at Lin Yan with disgust.

"Sit down. If you have any questions, you can talk to me after class. This teacher is old and can't keep up with your young people's games."

The rustling whisper in the class turned into a roar of laughter. Lin Yan blushed and shuffled all the way to the front to retrieve the textbook. He bowed to his teacher and returned back to his seat.

He was terrified that the ghost would try something else for most of the night. It had gotten harder to keep his eyes open just as dawn broke. It was hard staying awake during his morning class but he didn't expect his half-asleep daze to cause him this kind of embarrassment.

His face was still burning.

Just as he was thinking about it, his phone screen suddenly turned on, and a text message popped up. Yin Zhou sent: "Was everything alright last night?"

Lin Yan settled down and quickly sent a reply: "I'm still alive. I should be fine before July 15th." Fingers snapped and moved across the keyboard: "I found something new on a supernatural forum. Meet me at the entrance of the cafeteria at noon so we can talk."

On the first day of the month of Wushen, the fifteenth day of the seventh month, was the day of the Ghost Festival, and the gate of ghosts is wide open.

Lin Yan shrugged his shoulders and lay on the table, scribbling on the notebook while thinking. Unconsciously, he had covered a whole piece of paper with the rebirth curse. He hadn't done anything, so why is this ghost doing all of this? Lin Yan poked the paper bitterly with his pen, making small holes.

At the end of his two classes, when it was time for lunch, Lin Yan rushed to the cafeteria after packing up his things haphazardly. He went out and, when he turned to the left, he roughly bumped into another person. His nose slammed into their forehead and he almost cried out loud.

He should have checked his horoscope before going outside today.

Lin Yan held his nose and hissed and sucked in cold air. The other man stood silently. When Lin Yan opened his eyes and looked at the person he hit, he was surprised to see that he had run into a Daoist priest.

He was short and thin, his skin pale and he appeared weak. He was wearing some weird Tibetan blue homemade clothes. His shoulders were hunched under the weight of his backpack. This person seemed so dull that people couldn't help but yawn just glancing at him.

"Sorry, I was rushing to the cafeteria and didn't see you," Lin Yan apologized embarrassedly. The man didn't seem to be listening to him at all. His gaze was focused on something over Lin Yan's shoulder. He stared at it and suddenly grinned.

"Such powerful Yin energy. You need to be careful."

After speaking, he let out a soft "ah" as if he had just woken up from sleepwalking, and lightly floated past Lin Yan.

"Is that guy rambling delusions again?" The boy following Lin Yan poked his arm and said in disbelief.

Lin Yan shook his head and rushed down the stairs with his bag.

It was raining lightly, and the whole campus was wet. The students who were going to eat held umbrellas over their heads, looking like large colourful mushrooms from a distance. Lin Yan stepped onto a small paved road to avoid stepping in a puddle. Looking around, he saw Yin Zhou, who was looking around like a stupid bird at the entrance of the cafeteria. He looked terrible. He was holding a large red umbrella, four characters seemingly hanging on his forehead that was advertising his current mood: Stay away from me.

People who passed by couldn't help but glance over at him.

Lin Yan strode over the accumulating water under the steps in two quick strides, and patted Yin Zhou on the shoulder: "Why do you look as bad as I do?"

Yin Zhou was a little out of it, and took a long time to look at Lin Yan: "Second Immortal Gu is dead."

"My mother just called and asked us to the police station."

Lin Yan's face dropped.

When the police offer on duty led Lin Yan and Yin Zhou into the morgue and removed the white cloth that covered Second Immortal Gu’s face, Lin Yan took two steps backwards in shock. Yin Zhou couldn’t stop gagging. The face was extremely distorted. Her eyes were cracked open, the eyeballs almost bursting out of the eye sockets. Her mouth was wide open like a black hole, and her face looked like it was covered with nail scratches. It seemed that she had witnessed something extremely terrifying before she died. The most disgusting thing was that the skin all the way from her face to her neck was covered with deep holes. She had been eaten at by insects and ants. It is only by the contours of her face that they could barely recognize her as the grandmother who pretended to be a ghost in front of them yesterday.

Lin Yan covered his mouth and tried his best to suppress the urge to vomit. He waved his hand vigorously to let the police know to put down the white sheet.

"This is the person?"

Lin Yan nodded and took a few steps back unconsciously.

"She died last night. The bug bites are still under investigation." The policeman said casually, and glanced at Lin Yan's expressions disdainfully: "Are you two okay? We are all used to seeing dead people. It's better to think about where they're going."

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou, as the last two customers of Second Immortal Gu, were asked to stay at the police station to assist in the investigation. The interrogators took them to record their statements and fill out some forms. The police officer shuttled back and forth between the two interrogation rooms with the folders. As he walked, he muttered: "College students still believe this. I've heard so many crazy things over the years."

At 3 pm, the autopsy report from the hospital was sent to the police station. Second Immortal Gu died of a heart attack, which was a normal death. The blood contains a lot of catecholamines, the myocardial cells are damaged, mixed with erythema; it was a common way to die for patients with cardiovascular diseases. There were many insects in the countryside, and they gnawed away at the corpse overnight.

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were taken out of the interrogation room, and each concluded the case by leaving their fingerprints for the file. The policeman on duty sent the two out. Seeing that the superior was not there, they shook their heads and muttered to Lin Yan: "The report said that they were strongly affected. To put it bluntly, they were scared to death. When I was a child, I heard the villagers say that these sorts of people never died a peaceful death, and dealing with ghosts and gods would damage their morality and sucks away at their life to the point that it kills them."

When they left the police station, the pattering rain was still falling, and there were few people on the street. Lin Yan's face turned blue and he couldn't stop shaking from head to toe. When he passed by the convenience store, he bought a pack of cigarettes and sat side by side with Yin Zhou on the road. The body of Second Immortal Gu lingered in front of his eyes. Lin Yan wiped the rain off his face, his lips shaking as he asked, "Do you think. . . that thing did it?"

Yin Zhou was silent. "He came again last night, he seemed very angry." Lin Yan buried his face in his hands. "We shouldn't have gone to see her yesterday."

"You saw how she looked just now. That thing isn't human."

As he raised his head and looked around, his voice suddenly rose: "just because no one can see it, it thinks it can just kill anyone it wants to? That's a human being; a living, breathing person. No matter what I do, you always fucking leave regardless of what I say. You're coming after me and yet you take revenge on others?!"

Insane, perverted, totally unreasonable. Lin Yan said mutely, "Ghosts were human once too. Did you even have a conscience when you were alive?! Why don't you come out? Brother, I’m waiting to die, it would be very kind of you to come here now. Why wait for July 15th? Let's end this!"

On all the roads of all the towns and villages, the faces behind every window have remained unknown to the general population. No one knew that in a village in the northwest corner of the city, a grandmother had been robbed of her life. She died inexplicably. To many, it was as unnoticeable as stepping on an ant. A ghost did it! Who would believe that? Lin Yan recalled his experience last night. He thought that that gentle kiss would at least show that the monster still had some trace of his conscience from when he was a human being. It even sympathized with his paranoia, but now? Second Immortal Gu couldn't see his existence at all, what did she do wrong? Lin Yan shouted desperately in his heart, what did I do wrong!

"The next one could be me, my parents, or you. . ." Lin Yan squeezed the cigarette out, a vicious expression in his eyes: "I wanted to make peace with it, but now I changed my mind."

"He can come and try to take my life. I'll kill him first; a life for a life!"

[yourfavmagicpiano]

Chapter Three: “Shock and Drop” part 5

(No POV

Arcee changes back into her bipedal form, gripping the railway lever and pulling as hard as she could. The tracks fidgeted with each pull, but wouldn’t change. She grit her teeth and gave another hard pull.

S N A P!

The lever broke off.

“SCRAP!” She yelled, throwing the lever aside. She would have to change the tracks manually.

She places herself down on the railway, attempting to push the track in place with her legs. The blue femme grunted, giving it everything she had while keeping an eye on the quickly approaching train. She growled, giving a hard kick.

CLICK!

The track FINALLY snapped into place. Arcee jumped off the tracks just in time for the train to pass her by. She sighed in relief, propping herself up with arm.

The scream of the insecticon immediately sent her back on the alert. She barely jumped out of the way in time, narrowly avoiding the beast crashing into her.

The tracks below her sparked with electricity. She looked down and smiled, forming a plan. She jumped to the opposite side of the platform as the injured insecticon. With its wing broken, it wouldn’t be able to fly to her.

“Come to mama...” She muttered as the beast stood back up. It slowly approached her before transforming to its bipedal mode and charging at her.

The blue femme leaked out of the way with a frown. Guess these things aren’t as dumb as they look. She shot at the beast, trying to lead it over the tracks.

She put some distance between her and the bug, standing over the electrical track. She continued to fire at it, silently praying it would take the bait.

The grotesque creature screamed, leaping forward towards her. Arcee leaped our of the way, letting it crash face first into the track.

The insecticon screamed, this time in agony, from the shock going through its body.

“Shock and Drop.” Arcee smirked as the beast went silent. “Thank Primus Knockout didn’t hear that. He’d never let me hear the end of it.” She sighed.

Speaking of Knockout, he had FINALLY gained up on Nightshade. The former Decepticon grabbed her ankles, tripping her. She hit the tracks with a thud, dropping the relic.

“HIJO DE PUTA!” She screamed, kicking him in the face.

“OW! WATCH THE FINISH!” He yelled back.

The two cybertronians stood up, rushing towards the relic and trying to shove eachother away. Knockout jumped forward and snatched the relic, gripping it tightly in his claws.

“Aww, trying to get a present for your girlfriend?” The seeker taunted, tackling Knockout.

“Jealous much?” He retorted, punching her in the face.

“GAHH! Is that anyway to treat a lady?!” She snarled.

“Since when were you a lady?”

Nightshade shrieked, grabbing his legs and pulling him towards her. “I’ll show YOU how much of a lady I can be!”

The red mech grunted, his grip on the relic loosening. In a ln act of desperation, he tossed it behind him. With his hands now free, he switched to his saw blade and slashed at her visor.

The femme gasped, letting go and stumbling back. “FOLLANDO CULO! Do you have ANY IDEA how hard it is to replace that?!” She three the shattered pieces of her visor aside, her red optics burning with hate.

“You scratch my paint, I scratch yours.” He chuckled. Knockout went to grab the relic, but it instead latched onto his arm. “What in the world?”

“WATCH OUT!”

“KNOCKOUT!”

The medic turned around at hearing the human children’s voices, only to watch their train pass right threw him.

“I...I think I just leaked a little transmission fluid...” He mumbled, standing in shock.

His thoughts were interrupted by Nightshade’s screams of agony as the train ran her over. Her armor was so horribly scratched that Knockout almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

The seeker desperately grabbed onto the rails, bringing the train to halt as she passed out.

“Knockout!” Miko jumped out of the train, turning to the red mech.

“Are you alright?” He leaned down to her.

“DUDE!” She excitedly exclaimed. “That was AWESOME!”

“Oh...well, that doesn’t answer my question, but thank you.” He chuckled.

Arcee rolled up behind him, transforming and standing by his side. ���Looks like I missed all the action.”

“Considering there isn’t an overgrown insect at your heels, I’m sure you experienced plenty of action of your own.” Knockout teased, smiling at his team mate.

“How did you not get mashed?!” Jack exclaimed, gesturing to the unconscious Decepticon on the tracks.

“An excellent question, Jack. I’m not so sure myself.” Knockout looked over the relic on his arm.

“Phase shifter.” Arcee spoke up, phasinimg her arm through Knockout’s shoulder. “Handy when you need to pass through solid objects. Or vice versa.”

Knockout passes his hand through his own arm, completely amazed. “Trippy.” He remarked, stomping his foot on the ground. “AND intuitive! Proper grounding ensures it’s user won’t phase through the ground.” He smiled. “I’m keeping this, this is mine now.”

“Knockout, you can’t keep it.” Arcee put her hands on her hips, trying to hide her smile.

“Yes I can. I’m calling dibs on it.” He smiled back at her. “Dibs. Now it’s mine.” He said proudly, taking off the Pase Shifter to poke her forehead.

“NO ITS MINE!” The Decepticon femme screeched, wearily standing back up and pushing the train towards them. “HAND IT OVER NOW!”

“Sorry, I already called dibs.” Knockout calmly placed a hand on the train to bring it to a soft stop.

Arcee brought her guns up at the exhausted seeker, who grunted in response.

“Fine! You win this round! But you haven’t seen the last of me!” Nightshade shrieked, turning and running away from the group.

They watched her run away, only for Jack to break the silence with a sigh.

“He knows.” He told his Autobot partner. “Do we have to take him with us?”

“To the mothership?!” Vogel said nervously.

“I think I have a work around...” Miko said with a smile, pulling out her phone and dialing Agent Fowler.

“Clever girl.” Knockout hummed.

Miko explained the situation to Fowler before handing the phone to Vogel.

“Mr. Vogel,” Fowler sighed. “This is special Agent William Fowler of the United States Government. You are hereby deputized as an honorary agent of the Department of...um...Interstellar relations!”

A look of pride came over the construction worker’s face.

“Thank you, sir.” He spoke in a formal manner, handing the phone back to Miko. “So...you folks will be in touch?”

“Absa-freakin-lutley!” Miko smiled.

“Ah ah!” Arcee interjected. “But until then, we need to maintain complete radio silence.”

“It’s been an honor.” Vogel saluted her.

Arcee looked to Knockout. He gave a shrug and the pair saluted back before walking away with the kids.

“Good call, “Face”.” Jack teased.

“I understand big city people!” Miko said proudly. “...that spend WAAAY too much time below ground.” She added.

“One relic down, three to go.” Arcee turned to Knockout. “Let’s hope the others are having similar results.”

The two Autobots transformed, allowing their human companions a ride as they sped off.

((And that’s the end of Chapter 3! Thanks for reading. ❤️

[pedropascalssimp]

Storm on Ajan Kloss.

Mando x reader

Summary: mando and y/n along with the child find themselves stranded on the planet Ajan Kloss, where a storm just so happened to roll by and mando gets an idea.

Warnings: Fluff....that's all.

-------------------------------------------------------

Your world had changed the moment the mandalorian stepped through your door followed by a droid, the fear you felt in that moment was beyond anything else you've ever experienced. The thought of the two hostile intruders killing or kidnapping the child made you feel sick, your heart dropped and you was quick to grab your blaster. But the droid was quick to disarm you and shoot around at you, causing a piece of the stone like building to fall and hit your head, knocking you slightly unconscious. The droid and mandalorian stood over the baby, the child. Causing you to try and get your blaster, but its was no use.

The moment you saw the droid raise its blaster towards the child a cry and pleads left your lips, but relief washes over you as you saw the mandalorian raise his own blaster, shooting the droid and killing the thing.

It was that moment when you saw the mandalorian gently reach his pointer finger for the child to hold onto that you knew he wouldn't hurt it.

That was long ago, perhaps maybe month's. And over that time y/n and the mandalorian have grew close, he considered her a friend, something he never thought to have. But she saw him as something more then a friend, he had took care of her and showed her more gratitude then any other person in the whole galaxy ever had. He always worried over y/n, asking if she had eaten or had enough to drink. Although it was rather irritating at first y/n soon grew to adore his caring ways. But she knew deep down inside he could never love her back the way she loved him, he was a mandalorian, a bounty hunter who didn't settle down for no one and she was just some girl he found protecting his former bounty.

The child, something that wrapped itself around the mandalorian's heart as it done y/n, making the Mandalorian swear to protect it, that's why she and the mandalorian have been traveling the galaxy planet hopping for the sake of keeping the child safe and out of harm's way. That's how y/n ended up on the planet Ajan Kloss, a humid planet full of insects and other small life forms. Mando landed the rezar crest on the planet in Hope's of finding fuel, because quite frankly they was running very low on fuel.

But the moment he landed, a rather large storm rolled by, preventing them both from searching for others who could sell them fuel. Now y/n sat in the rezar crest as the rain poured down, thunder occasionally shaking the ship causing the child to whine in fear. The sight making her heart break a little at how truly scared the child was of the thunder.

" come here you poor little thing " she cooed reaching out for it as she was seated on the floor with her back against the wall. It waddles over to her fast, reaching its arms out for y/n as it puts it's ears down with a frown, small whines leaving it. She smile at the child kindly as she picks it up and start rocking it slowly, cradling it close to her.

She looks up upon hearing the mandalorian walk from out of the cargo area of the rezar crest and into the little room she was in. He walks over to the woman sitting down beside her with a little sigh.

" the storm doesn't look like its letting up anytime soon, so we may be stuck here for a few days or so. " he spoke with his usual modulated voice as he looks over at y/n through his helmet. She sighs and look down at the scared child.

" well at least we're stocked up on food and water " she replied with a small smile making him nod in agreement.

" otherwise we'd be stuck with a angry womp rat " he jokes poking the childs little cheek making her giggle at it's little smile upon Mando's actions.

" stop calling him that." She defends the child making the mandalorian chuckle, his shoulder now touching hers because the closeness. She can't help but to slowly lean her head on his shoulder, tired because the other night when she had stayed awake do to the child being restless and full of energy.

Mando looks down at her and wraps a arm around her, bringing her closer to him as he smiles at the two people he cares about being so close to him in this moment.

" I've always hated this planet " he tells y/n quietly as he sees the child slowly falling asleep in her arms. She looks up at him, now resting her chin on his shoulder as she looks into the vastness of his visor listening to him speak.

" I hate the humidity, the heat of this planet makes it hot under all this armor " he laughs, the sound coming out distorted. But she still thought it was the most beautiful sound her ears have heard, mind wondering what it sounds like without the helmet....

" I can only imagine " y/n giggle quietly, a smile on her face making the mandalorian's heart's swell with pure love at the sight. He was just going to stop talking, let silence fell the ship, but the sound of her giggle was melodic, her smile angelic he wanted to see it for all eternity and listin to her laugh all day. his hold on her tightens. As he laughs, deciding to continue.

" and the insects here is horrible! " he continued his complains about the planet. " they always swarm around you and pester you to death " he groans at the mere thought making y/n laugh, trying to stifle it so the child didn't wake up.

He smiles so widely as he watches her beautiful face light up in amusement, eyes flickering between gazing at her beautiful captivating y/e/c eyes and gorgeous pink lips, a part of him has wondered what it would feel like to have her lips pressed to his own, but the more logical part knew he couldn't never have that privilege. He was forbidden to take his helmet off, to have someone see his face....

But then as he looks down at her, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, the smile on her face as she lovingly looks at his helmet...where behind hides the man she longs to see, longs to feel....

He knew she had feelings for him, and he had feelings for her. But he pushed them away, well tried to but they always came crawling back. His mind swarmed with her and only her....

So maybe that's why he stands up all the sudden, gently grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet softly so the child didn't wake up. She stared at him with confusion but he quickly pulls her along with him, walking to the little room on the ship where he usually sleeps.

As they walk into the room he turns to look at her, smiling at the sight of the sleeping child and brings a gloved hand up to slowly drag his thumb across it's little face, smiling softly at the child. He then scoops it up in his arms and carefully puts it down on his cot, tucking it in and making sure its comfortable.

Y/n crosses her arms and fondly grins at him, his soft and caring side coming out causing her heart to flutter.

He then walks back over to y/n, hands gently placed on either side of her face as his thumbs gently run across the soft skin below her eyes. Her smile is now small and nervous, not quite sure what's happening, she has never been so close to mando like this, practically touching chest to chest. He wasn't one to be close to others. But this....it was rare even for him to allow someone to be this close, and so she took full advantage of this moment by gently grasping his wrists, her love for him spilling from her eyes.

" I've traveled the whole galaxy and never have I seen someone as unique as you..." he broke the silence as he tried hard to stop his voice shaking from how nervous he felt.

And y/n felt as if those words had completed her. She smiles so widely at the mandalorian as she giggles overjoyed. " mando...I-" he interrupted her as he shushed her.

" let me finish " he chuckles, the nerves coming out as he let's out a sigh, " I want you to follow me, but put this one first " he orders, removing his hands and reaching in his utility belt and pulling out a long piece of thick black fabric, handing it to her.

She gives him a confused look and takes it, inspecting the thing, " it's a blind fold..." he tells her as he opens the room door. Hesitant, she decided to just put it on and he walks behind her, making sure it's on tight before he takes her hand and leads her out of the room. Closing the door and let's out a deep breath.

What he was about to do made him nervous...it even scared him. But he wanted to do this...he couldn't go one more day without doing it so, he slowly walks directly in front of her once more. Knowing she can't see him, but feel him standing there.

With shaking hands he takes in deep breaths before placing both hands on either side of his helmet.

The little hiss rang out through the rezar crest, silence feeling the room as both their hearts started racing. The rain outside hitting the ship being the only noise heard now.

He pulls the helmet off, taking it completely off his head, placing it on a nearby table.

She knew instantly what the hiss meant, although she couldn't see...she knew the helmet was gone. That thought made her heart race faster.

He ran a nervous hand through his dark hair, his brown eyes searching every little detail in her face, taking in the sight of it without the helmet.

" you don't know how much you truly mean to me y/n " was his first words she heard without it coming out masked. She smiles, reaching a hand up slowly, cautiously. Afraid if she moves to fast she would scare him.

As her hand touches his face she can't help the tears of joy that starts pooling in her eyes, she rests her palm on his cheek, her other hand doing the same to his other one. His skin was soft, she moves her hand down to his chin, which was covered with prickly hair causing her to giggle. He smiles and let's out a little laugh.

She slowly moves her hand up, feeling his little mustache, tracing it with her thumb as she then rests her hand back on his cheek, her left hand moving up to his hair, running her fingers through it. He smiles fondly at her, resting one of his hands on the back of her neck and the other on her waist.

" you're so beautiful " she whispers, nothing but truth falling from her lips as her thumb starts tracing his bottom lip.

He chuckles at her, gazing down at her with love and adoration. " so are you...you're Devine y/n " he whispered back. His hand slowly bringing her head closer to his as he leans down. Lips just barely ghosting over hers.

" I love you mando-"

" din...din Djarin " he tells her, making her giggle as she now corrects herself.

" I love you din...." she quietly says with a soft smile, he smiles back.

" I love you too "

And he leans in, pressing his lips to hers gently as they move in sync. Y/n wraps her arms around his neck and moves closer to him, her whole body felt as if electricity was running through her veins. The softness of her lips against his made him never want to pull away. But he did, slowly as she grins up at him.

" one day, we can do this again....but you don't need the blindfold " he promised, causing the blindfold to dampen by her tears of joy. His hand resting on her cheek again.

" one day we'll settle down...if you would like that? " he adds, his dark eyes roaming her face for any sort of hesitation to his offer.

" I'd love nothing more din! " she exclaimed happily causing him to laugh, the sound pure music to her ears.

" y'know, I did use to hate this planet...but now I think I like it." He tells her, she smiles up at him blindly.

" and why's that? " she asks him as her fingers run through his soft hair.

" because now it reminds me of this moment " he whispers as her kisses her once again, making her smile into the short little kiss.

And she couldn't help but have grown close to the planet herself.

It was the planet she first felt him instead of the coldness of his beskar. It was the moment he promised her a life with him once he takes the helmet off

[redassassin]

a beautiful nightmare

part 9-> part 10

Ace whisked Adrian away as soon as they touched down outside the Cathedral, using his telekinesis to bring him up to the tower. Nova watched from the ground as Ace waved his hand and trees, branches, stones, everything around them was torn from the ground. The forest was gone, replaced by a mismatched wall of dirt, wood, and stone. Only the sky could be seen, and it was growing darker by the minute. Her fingers clutched at her dress, desperate to remember how Adrian’s hair had felt against her fingertips, how his breath fanned against her skin, the gentle brush of his lips against her hand, but the memory was already fading. Nova sighed, ready to sink to the floor, even though she would surely ruin her beautiful dress. 

But before she could, a loud voice rang out. 

“Oh, little nightmare! Your part is not finished yet. Someone has to tell the people that their beloved prince has been captured.” 

Nova groaned. As much as she wanted to see the outrage from the Council, she knew she’d probably be killed on the spot. 

“Send a message, Uncle. I’m not going back.” She turned on her heel, stalking into the Cathedral and up to her room, not waiting for a response. She couldn’t bear to take off the dress, not yet. She closed her eyes, letting her dance with Adrian fill her mind as she smiled, although it quickly faded as she remembered where Adrian was. 

She could go see him, for it was unlikely that anyone would stop her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him asleep on the cold stone, possibly tied up, the ropes digging into his wrists. She had been gentle with her power, but nightmares were always a side effect. The thought of Adrian trapped, both physically and mentally, was too much, too painful to think of. She busied herself with one of her inventions, fiddling with the small pieces of metal. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she finally broke out of her spell, her invention done. The sky was now completely dark, and the complete absence of light from the wall revealed more stars than Nova had ever seen before. Pushing the invention aside, Nova stretched her shoulders and stood, peering out her window at the stars. Putting one leg out on the ledge right below her window, she hoisted herself out the window until she was standing with her stomach to the wall, her hands clutching the carefully formed handholds she created above her. Nova had been 13 when she first discovered that she could climb the Cathedral walls, the stones were crumbling just enough that she could chip away small handholds and pull herself up. After a few times, she made a safer, easier way to access the roof. She only had to climb to the top of her window, where a rope was waiting, ready for the pulley system to allow her up. As she pulled the rope down and the platform rose, she caught a glimpse of Ace in his study, talking to the other Anarchists. 

“Winston, you delivered the message? Honey and Leroy, your traps have been set?” Their faces were shadowed, but they must have confirmed, because moments later Ace smiled, chuckling softly as he turned towards the fireplace. 

“There is no way for us to lose. The Renegades come, we kill the prince, and defeat them. They don’t, we kill the prince anyway, leave the Renegades in disarray, and defeat them.” 

Nova gasped. Kill the prince, he had said. That had never been part of the plan. Ace paused at the sudden noise, his footsteps creeping closer to the window as Nova pressed herself to the wall above it. Ace peered out the window but failed to look up, and Nova let out a breath as he stalked back to the fireplace, pacing in circles as he muttered to the others. 

Nova continued to pull herself up, finally reaching the top of the tower. She laid on her back, watching as the stars twinkled above her. She sighed, closing her eyes. Oh, to be free of everything. She didn’t really want to be here, after all. What Nova wanted more than anything was to run away, far from Gatlon and the Renegades, far away from the Anarchists, and forge her own path. And maybe, once this was all over, she would.  Her inventions would bring in enough money, at least until she found a steady source of income. 

She blinked, focusing on a quiet clatter in the distance. Nova grabbed the telescope she had mounted to the roof years ago, turning it to the ground, before remembering the wall. A loud clang rang out below her, and she focused on the gleaming metal that poked through the fortress of stone and earth. 

The Renegades had come. 

And Ace would kill Adrian. Nova jumped up, forgetting her pulley system as she slowly climbed down the wall, her dress fluttering around her, her bare feet covered in cuts as she fumbled for footholds. Nova slipped through a window, rolling to avoid the hard impact of the stone floor. She raced through the hallways, stumbling over the broken floors. Something fluttered in the corner of her eye, but she ignored it, only focused on Adrian and how much she had fucked up. Her vision tunneled and she crashed into the door, fumbling with the door handle.

“I knew it.” Nova jumped, turning towards the voice. Danna stood in front of her, glaring at Nova with such anger that Nova shrunk against the door. 

“You’re one of them. You were a spy! I warned Adrian. I warned him, and he didn’t listen. Do you know how much this is going to hurt him?”

“It will hurt him a lot more if my Uncle kills him! I didn’t want to do this. They’re the only family I have, but I was wrong. They’re wrong. I have no love for the Council, but Adrian is not the villain I was raised to think he is. I’m going to save him. They’ll be less likely to stop me. The more you try to fight me the less time he has. So you can either let me go, or Adrian dies.” 

Danna stared at her, open-mouthed, surprise written across her face. Her expression hardened. 

“Fine.” Nova turned back to the door, turning the knob. Danna grabbed her hand, twisting the skin painfully. “But-” She started, “If any harm comes to him at all, if you do anything to him, I will personally hunt you down, and escort you to the gates of hell myself.” 

Nova wrenched her arm away, glaring back at Danna. “I’m already in hell.” 

Danna stepped back, still suspicious, but she transformed and flew away when a scream shredded the air. Nova winced. 

It was all her fault. 

Nova had expected traps. Simple ones, of Honey and Leroy’s invention, the kinds of traps she had grown up avoiding. The first flight of stairs was easy. So was the second. As she reached the top, Nova became more and more confident, skipping through the traps with ease, until something on the ground distracted her. She tripped, falling to the ground. It was the rose. It must have fallen out of his pocket. She picked it up and dragged herself to her feet. The petals were soft. She ran her fingers over them, tearing them off one by one. A faint buzzing appeared from the stairs above her and she stopped. A swarm of thousands upon thousands of bees flew towards her. Nova gasped, tripping over her feet as she tried to run. Her feet slipped out from under her and she fell, tumbling down the stairs, landing in a heap at the bottom. The bees swarmed around her, landing on her skin, her dress, the walls and stairs around her.

“Nova? What are you doing?” Honey stood at the top of the stairs, Leroy in the shadows behind her. 

Nova’s body ached and her mind was racing, thinking of an excuse as to why she would be racing up the tower instead of fighting the Renegades. 

“Ace sent me to check on him, to make sure the magic was enough, so he doesn’t wake up.”

Honey’s eyes narrowed. “Ace said that no one is to see him, especially not you.”

Nova’s heart was racing. She couldn’t move, for fear of angering the bees and wasps settled on her. 

“Ace trusts me. I just need to send a little more of my power through him, and we should be all set for what comes next.” 

“Oh, darling, I know that Ace trusts you. But he’s not the one you need to convince.” She smirked, her voice sickeningly sweet. “I am.” 

“Queen Bee, what are you doing? Nightmare is on our side. She’s the one who brought the prince here in the first place. None of this would be happening without her. She’s brought us closer to the Renegades than anyone ever has.” 

“She’s gone and fallen in love with the prince. Haven’t you, Nightmare? Why else would you still be wearing that dress? Did he twirl you around the dance floor in his big, strong arms, whispering in your ear and smiling?” She sneered. “Pathetic. Do you really think he’ll want you? You are nothing. No parents, no money, nothing. It doesn’t even matter that you basically gave him up to die, because even if you were on the same side, he still wouldn’t want you.” 

Angry buzzing filled the stairwell once more as the bees shifted, thousands of small, glittery wings quivering with anticipation. 

Something pierced the skin on her arm and she flinched. She glared up at Honey, whose eyes were filled with malice as she stared, pitiless, down at Nova. Her eyes narrowed, and more stingers pierced her skin. Nova cried out, and as she flinched, most of the insects took flight, swarming around her, stinging her as she tried to run. She fell to the floor again, curled into the smallest ball she could, her skirt fanned out around her. Her eyes filled with tears and through her blurry vision she spotted Honey’s bare ankle within reach. She reached out, fishing blindly in the air for any contact with her skin, but Honey only laughed, cold and amused, and brought her foot down on Nova’s fingers. 

Nova screamed, the venom from the stingers and her aching fingers almost too much. 

A dull thud rang out, and the stings stopped. Nova looked up to find Leroy, a brick in his hand, staring down at Honey’s unconscious body. 

“She went too far.” He held out a hand to Nova, pulling her up as she grabbed it. She hissed at the pressure on the red welts covering her skin. Leroy’s eyes narrowed as he examined her face. 

“Nightmare, you’re not going to-” Nova cut him off, sending her power where their hands touched and he slumped to the floor beside Honey. 

Nova took a shaky breath. Her entire body ached, and she knew that she didn’t have long before the venom overtook her. One hand on the stair rail, she hauled herself up the stairs, her entire body screaming in protest. She counted the steps and focused on her breaths, anything to forget the pain. She collapsed against the door at the top of the stairs, letting her body weight push it open.

“Hello, Nightmare.” A deep voice emerged from the shadows, accompanied by a glint of metal and a chill that swept through Nova’s bones. She shivered, stepping back against the wall, letting it support her. 

“Why are you here, Phobia? The fight is down there.” 

“I should ask you the same question. No one, not even you, is meant to be near him.” He waved his scythe towards Adrian. Her heart plummeted when she saw him. He was sprawled awkwardly over a stone slab, his wrists tied. 

“You’ve failed, Nightmare. You brought us this far, and you betray us now? We have no need for you. The Renegades will be dead by dawn, the Prince with them. Although, I doubt you’ll last that long. Are you ready to join your parents? I doubt they’ll be happy to see what you became. They never did like us.” 

He emerged from the shadows, his scythe pointed at her. Something fluttered behind him, a flash of orange in the otherwise gray room. Danna emerged behind Phobia, a sword gleaming in her hands. She brought it down on his head, slicing from head to toe. Phobia only growled, forgetting Nova as he morphed into a flock of birds. Danna ran down the stairs, Phobia in pursuit.

Nova collapsed. Her body was on fire. Her fingers were numb, her movement slow, but she dragged herself towards Adrian, her hand outstretched. She’d never tried to wake someone up who she had cursed, but she had to try. She pulled herself up beside him, shaking his shoulder gently at first, and when he didn’t stir, she shook him with as much strength as she could muster. 

Remembering the fairy tales mamá had told her as a child, she leaned down. She felt guilty, stealing a kiss from him like this, but she didn’t know what else to do. She brushed her lips against his ever so slightly, the kiss lasting only a fraction of a second. She collapsed to the ground beside him, her legs unable to support her body any longer. Although she was awake, her brain was growing fuzzier by the second and she was unable to move, her ballgown fanned out around her, the glittery fabric covered in blood and dirt.

 tag list: @obsessedwithliterallyeverything @red-eyes88 @onecannotbebrave @renegadesmarissameyer @somanyfandomsonly1username @furryevanderwade @allyendergirl @thepurpledragon4444

[rakuraiwielder]

at the eleventh hour (don’t you dare knock)

Even through her hazy deliriousness Shinobu is sure of one thing. She cannot let Tomioka Giyuu die. // When Shinobu wakes in the aftermath of a mission, she knows she is dying.

Giyushino. Where both are fatally injured in different ways.

A Kimetsu no Yaiba Fic / Allusions to manga spoilers. 

Also on A03

Foreword:

i am that one friend at parties that get the prompt ‘nsfw’ and immediately think of gore instead of spice- in that vein, this could be considered a very late submission for giyushino week’s bonus prompt

Shinobu wakes to a sharp flare of pain and the light of an approaching dawn. Her head aches all over, buzzes with a numbness she was only vaguely aware of. The feeling only grows heavier as she attempts to sit up, hazy eyes blinking sluggishly as she struggles to gather her bearings. Strange, she thinks as she sways against the rapid beats of her pulse, that it should hurt to breathe.

They had been fighting a demon; her partner and her, her partner- 

Shinobu snaps her head up and flinches, feels bits and pieces of her memory return in the form of painful stabs to her abdomen. Giyuu had been with her; the two of them fighting off a demon classified to be on par with that of a Lower Moon. It should have been easy, it should have been easy and yet... 

They had been taken wholly by surprise; the mission had gone awry, and she had remembered nothing else but the shattering of bones amid a demon’s dying scream as she fell, fell and fell and-

The choked noise that leaves her mouth spittles into a croak; Shinobu feels her whole body threaten to lurch, trembling as she tries to focus her sight on battered flooring and broken rice paper doors. They had cornered the monster in an old deteriorating shack both to mitigate the damage and draw as little attention as possible from the surrounding village. It had been a smart move then, but she was beginning to think it had backfired now. No one would find them here if they were rendered incapitiated. No one would come, and for the first time she feels trepidation as the pain that courses through her flares sharply again.

From behind, a hand curls over the cloth of her haori, tugs her back weakly, and Shinobu feels herself fall against something warm and decidingly not flat. A hiss of pain catches in her throat even as her head lolls back, resting against the crook of...of something. Slowly she becomes aware of the low rise and fall behind her back, the pair of legs that encompasses her sprawled body, the hand that she now sees clenching the bloodied ends of her sleeve.

“Tomioka san..?”

Ah, she was just wondering where he had gone.

Relief rises in wisps through the receding numbness, bringing with it the rising awareness of more pain, of the slow stirring in her gut that alerted her to something being very wrong. Shinobu tilts her head, squints at the sliver of faint light that streamed through the quiet trees and splintered wood. She wonders just when had she closed her eyes. Sluggishly she turns around a little more, feels her stomach pang and throb as she tries to find the presence behind her. Every motion brings her pain; another slow shift, digging the backs of her ankles into the grainy wooden floor, poised to lift-

Pain, white hot, blinds her vision, forces her mouth open into a rattling cry. The hand on her haori spasms, and Shinobu feels pressure on her other side, foreign fingers curling gingerly over the disheveled redness of her soiled clothi-

Shinobu screams, flinches away from his touch and curls in on herself as her pulse skyrockets and her ears ring. It hurts. For a few moments thereafter she cannot hear anything but the rapid pounding of her own heart. The scale of its intensity scares her; makes her mind race for answers through the numbness. It must be more than just a few broken ribs. Appendicitis? She thinks back to that one moment of snapping bone as her body collided with the ceiling; the taste of bile and blood tingeing her tongue as the demon had lunge for her. It wouldn’t be unlikely for the broken bone to puncture an organ from the impact then or after she fell. If she even fell. There were no bruises and cuts to show for it.

She cannot remember now, but the thought of having a ruptured stomach or bleeding innards here scares her enough to break through the haze. Clarity returns to her in between sets of delirious pain. Her head swims, but still she struggles, tries to turn around again. The hands that held her had retracted, but as she moves they return to her sides, fisting into the ends of her haori and forcing her still.

“Don’t.” A raspy whisper from behind her. Giyuu breathes, heavy and ragged, and Shinobu feels the last of her reassurance burn into ashes. 

“Don’t.” He says again, before she can open her mouth, clutches the fabric of her clothes tighter as he heaves. “You are hurt, Kochou.”

Why hadn’t she realised it earlier? The erratic rise and fall of his chest. The signs of struggle in every clench of his hands. Most of all, why he remained unmoving in a place like this after the slaying of a demon. The Water Pillar may be a man of few words, but even she knew him enough to know he would never want to linger on the deathbed of death and decay.

“So are you. What’s... wrong?” It hurts to speak, and she has to focus on each word as she slurs them out. Shakily she lifts one hand, raises and drops it on his leg. The movement makes him tense; he gasps, soft and unnoticed as she pokes weakly at his knee. “Come now, let me turn around.”

Shinobu does not wait for him to protest, shifting her buzzing legs to the right as she attempts once again to search his face. She makes it halfway before the pain starts to take over, a warning flare that brings tears to her eyes. This time the wave leaves her floundering, coils tight over her heart as she sways. Giyuu reaches for her shoulders before she can collapse again, fingers curling against the expanse of her arm and guiding her closer as she slumps tiredly, this time sideways against his firm chest. He wavers for a moment before touching her, and Shinobu knows, even through the ache, that he did not want her to cry out again.

It was so like him to blame himself for it, though it was more her fault than his. She would scold him for it, but as it were she could barely focus on the ground before her. Slowly she tilts her head again, blinking through the haze to squint up. Giyuu can barely meet her gaze, his ragged breaths borderlining wheezing as he pants in uneven tempo. 

One look at him and she knows he has been poisoned.

No wonder they had been unable to leave.

You look awful, she wants to say. But all that leaves her mouth is another pained whimper. The poison had spread, turned his skin pale and clammy, highlighted the bulging veins that circled his temple and eye as he attempted to maintain total concentration breathing. Shinobu wonders when the demon even had the chance to inflict the deadly deed. But then she remembers the dust-like spores that had encircled the shack’s perimeter before, and thinks she understands. 

For now, she must start on administering the antidote. As far as she could see, he had not coughed up any blood. Perhaps the poison worked in different ways, and he wasn’t in immediate danger. She can only hope so. Her hands shake as she turns back into herself, struggles to get them past the layer of bloodied haori into her inner pockets to reach the pouch that held her syringes. A careless brush against her chest makes her see stars; Shinobu cannot tell if she made a noise, but when she comes back down the hand over her shoulder was quivering, Giyuu’s other fist clenched tightly over butterfly winged cloth. 

He had pushed away from the wall, head lowered and face buried into her hair; she can feel him shudder with every heavy exhale. It makes her heart clench, though it could have been just from the pain. He was not himself.

“Tomioka...san..?”

“I’m.. I’m alright…” Another deep breath before his fingers loosen their hold, dropping off her shoulder. “It’s... not what you think.”

He was turning incoherent, and Shinobu tries to shake the anxious drumming of her pulse as she reaches for her haori and tries again. The poison’s effect was escalating; it could have been one that takes away lucidity, has the victim experience confusion and hallucinations. It was not nearly enough to work on, but Shinobu notes it down anyway, finally grasping the pouch out from her uniform and fumbling it open with numb fingers. She needs him to keep talking, if only to reassure her, if only to let her have something to anchor herself onto besides the unbearable pain.

“Our...crows?”

“Gone at first light. The Kakushi will be here soon.”

But how soon is soon enough? It was a traitorous thought that she quickly stamps away. She can cure him before anything happens. She must. She cannot consider herself the Insect Pillar if she fails doing this one simple thing that was under her expertise otherwise.

The medical kit drops from her shaky hands, hits the wooden floor with a metal clang that rings painfully in her ears. Giyuu picks it up before she even notices, presses it back against her trembling fingers. It takes her too long to grip it properly so he can let go, longer still to push her head off his chest so she can face him. Giyuu makes a soft noise but pulls back. His eyes were glazed, fixed unseeingly at a point on her mouth. She wonders if she really was slurring her words that badly.

“Tomioka san (c’mon, work with me here), I need to-” Another wave of pain from her abdomen. She can barely curl her arms around it, fearing that touching the wound would only agitate it more. More bile rises up her throat. “I need to...check your symptoms if you want me to help you.”

“I-” The Water Pillar hesitates, unable to meet her stare as a slow flush of red crept over his ears, neck. Fever..?

Shinobu would interrogate him more, but then his fingers were on her cheeks, swiping at the water under her eye. His gaze was soft, softer than she expected, the pad of his thumb gentle and lingering as it presses into the corner of her lips. It barely lasted a couple of moments, but as soon as she thought to comprehend it he snatches his hand back, cheeks tinting pink. His mouth parts uncertainly, seemingly at a loss for words. 

The ghost of his touch dissipates from her skin, fleeting like the forgotten words on the tip of her tongue. Later, she is sure it would confound her more than anything if she remembers.

“I recognise the effects.” He says almost shamefully, breathing strained. 

Shinobu nods, blinks slowly as her head swirls and she struggles to keep her balance.

“...It’s acting like an aphrodisiac.”

Shinobu feels her brain shock circuit.

Silence, as it takes her too long to put the pieces together, during which Giyuu turns increasingly more embarrassed. His palms clench into rigid fists as he rests them by his side, but he makes no other moves to touch her. She thinks she owed to be grateful, but somehow like this it feels harder to stop her back from collapsing in on itself. It was easier to keep steady, knowing that his hands were there if she ever needed the support.

...How strange her thoughts were. The internal bleeding must be getting to her.

“...Is that it..? No wonder you are acting strange.” She smiles then, a jittery, feeble thing as she untenses. The gravity of his words had hit their mark with its somber weight, but still Shinobu wants to laugh at the irony of the situation. As it were another flare from her abdomen shoots down her legs, and her smile trembles, fades into a thin line. “That makes things easier...” 

“Can you..?”

“Who do you think you are talking to?” This time she does laugh amidst the pain, breathy and stuttered as she folds into herself. She regrets it immediately, feels something shudder and shift wrongly inside her. Something brushes the edge of her covered elbow, tugs hesitantly at the sleeve; it takes her mind off the pain a little, even as she struggles to ground herself, knuckles turning white as her grip on the medical kit becomes bruising. “I will have you better in no time.”

“You need help too.”

Only the look of sheer disbelief on his face and the need for propriety gives her pause when she teeters dangerously close to slumping against his chest again. She doesn’t want to agitate him, doesn’t want to agitate herself.

“...Yes.” She says, not liking the helpless look he was showing her. “But that can wait after you.” Help you to help me and all that. Another pained smile. “It won’t do you any good for anyone to see you like this, no..?” 

She wants to tease, but another shock runs through his body, turns his eyes dark and hazy. Giyuu growls lowly as he returns, the restraint in his eyes razor thin as he stares fixated at a point she cannot see. Shinobu has no time to wonder before the cloth of his haori was dragging across hers, his arms encircling the space of her small frame. They stop, barely touching the side of her body as he looms before her.

“I’m sorry Kochou.” He slurs, eyes flickering with turmoil as he grapples to stay his hand. Shinobu feels it fist tighter into her haori anyway, his arm brushing the small of her back as she starts to sway. A whimper leaves her throat, unrestrained as the motion rocks the pain back into focus, and she sees Giyuu freeze for a bare moment even as he bends, pressing his face into the exposed skin of her nape. 

His touch sends shockwaves through her body, makes her jerk and tense as he starts to nuzzle, warmth breath tickling the curve of her neck as he pants. A voice in the back of her mind begins to drone about unspoken boundaries and the splintering cracks of their established dynamic, digging into her heart the bolder he becomes. Shinobu pushes it all away, hitches with stuttered gasps at the reverent way he cups a palm over her waist.

She would wonder, if she wasn’t so aware of the precious time slipping through her fingers. Black spots darken her vision, but the weight of his chest was enough to ground her back as she fumbles at the metal case in her hands.

“I’m sorry.” He shudders again, mouth pressing the words into her neck. It makes her shiver and lean into his grasp. 

“Oh Tomioka san… If nothing else, I would say that your self control was admirable to this point.” 

“Don’t.” He makes a choked noise, and Shinobu feels him pull back a little. “Don't joke about that. I, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ahah...don’t be ridiculous. Like I would die to something like this.” She says, thinks it a lie as her vision starts to blur. How frustrating, that all the effort and preparation she put herself under was going to be rendered obsolete because of one off-the-trails mission. All these years of slaying and training for the one fight she was going to stake her life on cut short due to bad compatibility and a bleeding inside. She would grit her teeth if she wasn’t feeling so weak. 

She cannot die here. She cannot die until she fulfills the vow she made to herself.

“You are trembling. Kochou?”

And yet...

Even through her hazy deliriousness Shinobu is sure of one thing. She cannot let Tomioka Giyuu die. She will administer the antidote on him if it is the last thing she does, on her honour and pride as the Insect Pillar. She won’t take him down with her. She won’t. It was all she could do now.

“-chou? Kochou, say something pl-”

“I’m here.” She coughs, runs shaking fingers over fastened needles and surgical knives when she finally pries the medical kit open.

She must have blacked out, because she barely remembers prepping the antidote together, her body on autopilot as she stumbles in and out of clarity. Aphrodisiac effects were not fatal as long as they could be flushed out of the system, though that was clearly out of the question now. What she had on hand would only work as a temporary neutraliser to restore awareness and basic motor functions to the victim for a short period of time. It would be enough, she knows even as she mixes the concoction and spills precious drops down her haori, if it was Giyuu with his boundless self control, Giyuu; who fought and trained and compensated for more than any other Pillar, it would be enough.  

The uncapped syringe was in her hands when she feels her stomach churn unnaturally, bile sour and unpleasant as something inside her twists. Her body spasms in unbearable waves, and with widened eyes she pushes out of his grip, heaving a silent cry as she throws up mouthfuls of her own blood. 

Shinobu heaves over and over again, dry heaves some more even when there was nothing left to throw up. She was scarcely aware of the man beside her, of the spreading pool of blood that blankets their feet, could only register the clotted fluid as black and sweet smelling. Ah, she thinks through her dizziness, hopes against hope that he does not recognise the scent of wisteria.

She didn’t think she could explain it to him anyhow, with the way they are now.

Soft cloth wipes at her lips when she slumps back, and she opens heavy eyes to see Giyuu brush the sleeve of his haori across her mouth. Apprehension dances in his eyes, fades in and out like a blurry canvas as she forces herself to focus on the antidote in her hands. Or maybe that was just her, and she was about to black out again. It only further stirs the restless anxiety that laid exhausted within her bones.

It takes longer than she would have liked to reach for him and position the syringe over his wrist. Giyuu has to hold her hand to steady her grip, help guide the needle into his skin. Black spots dance at the corner of her eyes again; Shinobu resists, wills herself to watch every last drop of antidote sink into his veins. With the rest of her dwindling strength she pulls the needle out cleanly, hears the clanking of metal and glass as the syringe drops to the ground.

The sound echoes oddly in her ears, as though faraway. She blinks, feels her eyes droop as she looks at her frozen fingers. Giyuu was speaking to her, but she cannot pick apart his words, can barely recognise the odd puffing sound she could hear come from her mouth as darkness took her back into its embrace.

Oh, since when had her skin become so ice cold?

The black out feels longer this time, but still she fights, claws her way out of the endless dream with pained gasps and tired wheezing. It cannot end like this, not until she was sure the Water Pillar could move. When she wakes again her head was resting in the crook of a familiar neck, her body swaying in the rhythmic motion of being held in a person’s arms. The pain in her abdomen was still present, ebbing and flowing with very breath she takes. She takes comfort in that. It means she was still alive.

Gentle warmth and birdsong caresses her face, strokes the deep sleep from her eyes as she opens them slowly. Small beams of morning light stream down the canopy of leaves, halos their wounds and disheveled clothing with every step down the forested path. Shinobu takes this all in, tilts her head up just in time to feel Giyuu stumble as he moves.

The sudden jerk sends a sharper pang through her chest, and with a hard swallow she coughs, curls deeper into the grip of his arms. She can hear him mumbling a mantra, words soft and trembling as he struggles with every step. Please, please please please.

“Don’t die on me, Kochou.”

He sounded almost afraid, the raw vulnerability making her heart clench again. She doesn’t like this new side of him, doesn’t want herself to be the cause of Giyuu’s uncertainty. Giyuu, who never wavers, who refuses to play along with her antics, who allowed her to see glimpses of the person he used to be. Giyuu, who was the one solid constant in her life she trusts more than anything. Her partner. Her head lolls to the side, wheezing softly from her lungs as she struggles to keep her consciousness. It hurts to speak, but she can do it. For him.

“Oh..?” She croaks, feels him tense at the sound of her voice, as though he had not expected her to answer. Had he been speaking to her all this time? “You...won’t let me..?”

“Never.” He bites out, uncharacteristically fierce and taking her by surprise.

She wants to laugh, but she lacks the energy to even try, the taste of blood bitter in her mouth. Instead she grounds her head into his shoulder and focuses on her breathing. 

(Shinobu, her sister sings into her ears, the most important thing to total concentration breathing is to relax and brace-)

“Then, I will be in your care…”

(Kanae, she thinks as her vision darkens, I might be selfish for this. But I don’t want to see you just yet. Not today. Not until I have no more regrets.)

Shinobu closes her eyes, oblivious to the quiet panic of the man carrying her, and drifts off to his calls of her name.

Kochou Kochou Kochou Kochou pleas e

 Shinobu..!

 x

  When Shinobu wakes, she knows she is not dead. The room she was in looked strikingly similar to those of the Butterfly estate, and there was an aching numbness all over her body, throbbing with an insistence that felt too much like material pain. She could barely feel because of it, hardly think of anything past the numbing emptiness in her head.

She has no idea what Heaven could be like, but she was sure it wouldn’t be like this; a direct continuation of her torment from before. But ah, she could be in Hell for all she knew, and that was a thought sobering enough to have her close her eyes and try to sink deeper into sleep.

A slight sensation envelopes her hand and breaks her from that notion. 

Slowly her eyes flutter open, turn to stare at the face looking down on her. Gentle recognition pierces through the veil of comprehension, and Shinobu cracks a smile even as her limp muscles protest. Giyuu blinks back, looking worse for wear; dark circles hanging under his eyes of his too pale face, but the relief was palpable in his expression, and to her that was enough.

“You kept your promise.”

“I had to.” His face contorts and falls at that. “I almost-”

He cuts himself off then, narrows his eyes unseeingly at a corner of her bed. He was falling back into old habits, one that Shinobu doesn’t see the point of. It was misplaced; all of it. If anyone was to blame it should be her. Because she was the weak one.

But the haze was blowing the thought away before she could think it further, turning her musings to mush. A convenient distraction, she thinks in a daze, something she wishes she was quick witted enough to use on the Water Pillar now.

“Ah.. you haven’t been listening to the doctor’s orders, have you?” It takes more effort than she wants to get the words out. But Giyuu turns to look at her, so she can consider it a success. “You look tired.”

His answer comes in the form of his head hitting her pillow. The soft thump snaps her out of her reverie, and Shinobu stares at him with wide eyes as he moves closer until their heads touch. Giyuu turns his nose into her hair, sighs in exhaustion as he breathes her in, that for a moment she fears the poison’s effects had yet to leave his system.

The fear fades when he shifts some more, this time until their foreheads touch, until Shinobu can see clearly the silent desperation in the depths of his eyes and how they threaten to drown him in. Here, in the quiet lull separated by four walls and a single wooden door, he allows himself to loosen the facade he always wears, lets her catch glimpses of the person he used to be.

You are a very kind person aren’t you, Tomioka san? She should be flattered; that he would feel so for her, and yet all she can feel is a sense of painful emptiness. She supposes this is what near death situations does to you; make you connect with fellow survivors in a twisted, tragic kind of way. So lost in thought she was, that Shinobu does not notice the ache of her own heart through the medicinal numbness that locked her body still.

Giyuu makes a soft noise, and she closes her eyes, equally tired.

“Go to bed, Tomioka san.”

“I can rest here.” He says back, burrows his nose into the pillow as he exhales raggedly. “Shinobu.” 

Another shock, milder than the last, as weariness starts to take its toll. Shinobu would stare, but as it were she could barely open her eyes.

“I thought I lost you. Shinobu.” He says her name again, on the cusp of an invisible boundary, but in that moment all she could think about was the kind of face he had made, and how she never wanted to be the subject of it ever again. 

“I’m here, Giyuu san.” She whispers, knows full well they were both breaching something unsaid and untouched.

As her consciousness slips away she squeezes the sensation over her fingers she now knows as his hand, hopes to convey what she cannot find the strength to say. He grips her tighter, burying his head into her matted curls, and joins her in sleep.

x

A/N

i had a lot of fun making the title and synopsis as clickbaity as possible aHAh

i think Shinobu would be both flattered and anguished if she ever has the chance to see Giyuu grieve for her. it’s an unbearable feeling i don’t think she will be able to take, knowing how important she was to him

[creativerogues]

Campaign Diary #6: Northbound

So... It’s been a while hasn’t it.

Well with quarantine ruining all the fun, and teaching people how to Zoom becoming the single greatest ordeal in my life, it seemed like the Campaign would’ve been put on hold indefinitely, or at least until all this blew over.

But no, I wouldn’t allow such an awesome campaign to be put on hold, and so while writing the Player’s Guide I’ve been setting up a session, and now it looks like we’re back on track, at least a little...

Anyways, here’s a recap since it’s been a while...

We have a Kenku Rogue still frozen by Magic, a recently resurrected Tabaxi Bard, a super-peeved Aarakocra Barbarian and a Tortle Wizard and Human Druid all trying to kill a Green Dragon called Danae, the Deathlady.

It you want a better Recap, you can find Campaign Diary Number 5 HERE!

Anyways, let’s continue by actually starting this thing.

Episode #6: Northbound

The Party awakes to find the three Silver Charge Members they hired in Episode #5 already packed up and ready to go. In fact, they’re actually having breakfast, with the Human Man cooking rations in a metal pan over a brass brazier.

The Party gets everything ready, and enjoys their own breakfast, which is nothing because they brought no food with them…

As everyone gets ready for the first day of travelling, the Minotaur speaks, saying that they should move through the light snow areas to avoid leaving traces in the snow that animals could follow, and the Wizard can cast his Spells to make their journey a little safer…

Meanwhile, the Human Wizard (Who they STILL haven’t learned the name of!) begins throwing strange objects into the Brass Brazier. At first it was just coal, which seemed sensible enough, but then he starts throwing sticks and grapes into the fire, followed by some leaves and branches with strange flowers that he pulls out of a sizeable pouch.

Then he starts making strange sweeping gestures with his arms: sculpting the flames in the brazier, slicing, patting, poking and even smacking and punching the fire while slowly chanting and humming under his breath...

And after completing this strange ritual, the Man goes down on both knees in front of the brazier, and whispers under his breath: "Come forth my other half, I want to find myself again".

And bursting forth, a bright white snowy owl flies out of the flames of the brazier, landing on the Man’s arm as he stands, and places the large owl on his shoulder, as he grabs a few handfuls of snow and begins extinguishing the flames and packing away the brazier into his Pack.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is how a badass casts Find Familiar...

And as the Party sets off, learning on the way that the Human Wizard's name is Quill, a Northern Man clad in a heavy purple coat with green trimmings and thick furs around the neck, while the Minotaur's name is Sticks, and the Tortle's name is Pieces. So yeah: Quill, Sticks and Pieces.

Quill then sends his new Snowy Owl Familiar into the skies, and his eyes turn cloudy as he places his hand on Sticks’ arm, and everyone just kinda waits until his eyes become clear, and he reports that the area around here is clear, and they can rest in a few hours so he can scout the area again...

A Strange Request...

During the morning preparation, Potosh asks if he can get Hard Hat to cast Sending to his Mother or Father... 

A bit of a strange request but I allowed it because roleplay...

I ask Potosh's Player to make a History Check to remember the faces of his mother and father, which tells you something about his Character. He succeeds but now I make him roll a Performance Check but rolls a 7, so he doesn't give Hard Hat the detailed description he needs.

According to Potosh, his father had a long face with blue eyes and slick back dark brown hair, probably in his early 60′s now.

His mother he speaks more fondly of, talking about the floral dress she always wore and the short curly blonde hair she had. He says she’s probably in her late 40's to early 50's, tall and thin with a face similar to Potosh's...

Hard Hat apologises and says he needs more details off Potosh, but Potosh quite literally cannot remember them, having lived away from his Parents since... well since they pushed him away...

Ice to Meet You!

Quill sadly has no "Snow Avoidance" Spell to cast on the Group, so they all end up having to deal with the Penalties from the Snow and Difficult Terrain.

The Party trudge through the snow for about an hour (with Potosh in the form of a Snow Leopard), until they encounter some strange, what could only be described as “long thin blue sticks” poking just a few inches out of the snow, before the faces of the three Silver Charge Members suddenly turn pale.

“Nobody move. Nobody move a f**king muscle…”

Everybody freezes, and they begin to see the blue sticks move, swaying in the wind…

Potosh, who is in Snow Leopard Form and leading the group, tries to back up from these things, rolling a 17 on his Stealth Check, with an extra +10 from the Pass without Trace he has cast just before they set off… Rolling a 27 total and managing to very slowly back up away from these weird little sticks out of the ground...

Quill describes that they just messed up big-time, and the Group is currently standing on top of a Creature: A Remorhaz, and it’s currently feeling the vibration of footsteps on the hard snow crust.

And now everybody gets to roll Stealth Checks! But thankfully, no one fails...

Quill then sends his Snowy Owl over to these blue sticks, which turn out to be antennae, and the Snowy Owl pecks the antennae, and the Remorhaz emerges in a cloud of steam and slush, attacking and swallowing its Snowy Owl whole and causing it to poof out of existence...

And the Party rolls initiative as a large ice-blue centipede with leathery wings like a cobra's hood, an insect-like head with a flat face and giant bulbous eyes, and a long scaly segmented body with dozens of legs, with horns along its body and a line down its back that glowed red with an inner fire, bursts out of the snow in a cloud of steam and a pile of melted snow…

I roll for all the NPCs, Quill getting a Natural 20 on his Initiative, but Potosh acting first with a 22 on Initiative:

Potosh runs forward in his Snow Leopard Form and claws at the Young Remorhaz, missing with his first attack but scoring a crit on his second.

So all is looking good! Until Potosh is sprayed in the face with the Remorhaz's boiling hot blood and takes some fire damage... Then all is not looking good.

Next up is Quill, the Human Wizard and Silver Charge Mercenary, who casts Otiluke's Resilient Sphere on the Young Remorhaz, trapping the large monstrosity in a sphere of shimmering force and getting the Play of the Game and title of Most Valuable NPC.

You know, instead of the person that literally just resurrected their friend...

During this time, Quill casts Sending using some of his Spell Slots to message some other people in the Silver Charge: Specifically someone called Eli and some other person he refers to as Leatherback.

Meanwhile everyone else is panicking as this Remorhaz is clawing and biting at the sphere, which won’t be able to hold for as long as they’d like...

Quill casts Seeming to turn himself, Sticks, Pieces and everyone else (except Hard Hat), turning them all into other members of the Silver Charge, and commands Hard Hat to cast Sending and send a message to each of them for him, since Quill is currently focusing on containing the Young Remorhaz.

Hard Hat goes along with it and casts Sending as many times as he can to contact all these people, saying: "I am Hard Hat, I am paying your Mercenaries for protection. We have Remorhaz bound on South-East peaks, it is breaking free. We seek aid."

Minutes pass, and tension is rising as two Spellcasters suddenly appear out of a shimmer purple doorway.

One makes a remark to Quill, before they tell him to end the Resilient Sphere Spell and let the two deal with the creature.

The Sphere is reluctantly dispelled and one Mage casts Reduce, shrinking the Young Remorhaz, while the other Mage casts Charm Monster, succeeding and charming the Young Remorhaz. 

The Mage then casts Dimension Door and teleports out with the shrunken Remorhaz, the other Mage also Dimension Door-ing out of there and the Party Members (as well as Thrak the Half-Orc and the three Silver Charge Members) are left kinda stunned…

This is what happens when you ask NPCs that are several levels higher than you to help out, they get it done quick and easy and make you look like a bunch of scrubs...

Now the Party is left just kinda standing there, since they basically just panic speed-dialled every important person in the Silver Charge.

 So naturally, they decide to take a quick short rest to gather their thoughts, because WHAT THE F**K?

Wasting Time...

The Party takes a Short Rest after the Encounter with the Remorhaz and decides to chat, with Hard Hat speaking with Potosh about how they're going to get the Money to pay these people, since hiring highly skilled Mercenaries means paying several gold pieces a day, and they currently have a total of absolutely nothing...

Potosh thinks that if Foot can charm Thrak, they can use the Diamonds she still has on her to pay the cost, but Hard Hat says that robbing from the person that literally just resurrected their friend yesterday is somehow just a little too far for him…

Potosh also says that time is running out for him to get his pet bear back, since Thrak the Half-Orc said that in order for her to resurrect any Creature, she'll need a bunch of diamonds, and the more important part, the creature has to be dead less than 10 Days.

Hard Hat says that he's trying his best, and he knows they have maybe two days tops to get to the Capitol and get back here to resurrect that Bear…

Why is the Bear suddenly important? Ask the Nature-Loving Druid…

An Argument? Oh My!

So with the Short Rest over, Hard Hat suggests they all take Phantom Steeds to speed up the process, and asks Quill if he knows that Spell.

He does, but he doesn't tell Hard Hat that, instead lying and saying he's heard of the spell, but does not know the incantations necessary to perform it.

Why is Quill lying? Because for every day the Party travels under his protection, that's some extra pay for him, and turning what could be a two week journey up north into a couple of days would mean a whole chunk of money lost, an angry Tortle and a very angry Minotaur...

But of course Potosh and Foot, both with pretty good Wisdom Scores, notice Quill's words not carrying as much sway as he thought, and rather than ask him in private if he's lying, Potosh calls him out and says that they've got two days to get everything done, and they're just slowing down the Party.

Hard Hat calms down the situation by saying that he might have a way to fix this, up-casting Sending at 4th Level and asking Kenzo to speed up the process, saying that she has two days and apologising for the time crunch.

She responds saying that she'll have to track down some people, but she might be able to get to where they are within a day, a day and a half at most, and says that while she doesn't think she has exactly what they're looking for, she does have something, and she hopes that they haven't forgotten about their deal…

Hard Hat relays this to the group, and the three Silver Charge Members go from "we're here for the money" to "you guys don't deserve us", saying that they'll take their money and go if the Party thinks they're so dang high and mighty.

But then Thrak butts in: Saying that the three mercenaries were hired to help the group travel up north, and they should help each other instead of asking for money.

And thin strings of smoke begin to emerge from Thrak's mouth as she speaks to Quill specifically, the smoke travelling a few inches into the air and vanishing, as Thrak casts a Spell: Geas...

I roll to see if Quill notices the Spell being cast, and he does, and attempts a Counterspell.

However, with a 3rd Level Counterspell, and Geas being a 5th Level Spell, he has to roll a 15 or Higher to counter the spell.

But he fails, rolling a 9 total, so Thrak's Geas Spell succeeds, with Thrak feeling a little guilty that she was "forced" to cast it to ensure the Human Wizard's loyalty at this time.

I also roll to see if Sticks or Pieces notices what Thrak is doing, and they both fail, which I flavoured as them not knowing she was casting a Spell at all because they don’t know any magic, let alone know the specific components to spells...

Quill's eyes glaze over for a moment as Thrak asks him to kindly stay here with her and the rest of the Party protecting them until further notice...

She then takes out her small wooden chest again and gives Sticks and Pieces enough diamonds to pay for their work for two days, the day before and today, so they have no need to be here if they don't want to be.

And of course the big Minotaur fella decodes that to mean "go away" and takes the hint, telling Quill to cast whatever Spells he has left to take them home.

But Quill doesn't respond the way he usually does, saying that he's staying with the Party until their friend arrives, and will be returning to them after such a time as he feels they are safe…

Does Thrak feel guilty about forcing the Wizard to stay with them, of course she does, but if it ensures the Party's survival for the next day or two, then despite feeling bad about it, she'd still do it...

And now the Party has the task of waiting for a day and a half for Kenzo to get there… But the question is, can she get there in time?

[toothedsmile]

The new demon: Chapter two

Chapter two: Some new faces

Prologue/chapter one

Once it had sunk in that you were in Hell you looked around. It struck you that while yes you had seen it already, those bodies just registered in your brain.

All that beautiful death thrown around you, not a single body part was spared, heh more like speared, arms, legs, heads and more of them were everywhere. It was such a wonderful sight for your eyes.

Merely a few seconds after the firework had left, started the demons to come out and walk on the streets.  Some were walking around with carts, collecting what could be grabbed easily, leaving here and there some organs laying around for the little critters to take and eat.

Walking closer to a few remains, you crouched down to take the head of one. Bringing it closer to your face you inspected it. It had some fur around it’s face and very sharp teeth, the eyes were rolled back so you couldn’t check them but from what you could see, the sclera was red.

Once you stood back up you dropped the head with a disgusted frown and wiped your hands on some clean nearby cloth from another dead body that wasn’t cleaned up yet.

“Well then. What a warm welcome I guess.”

As your eyes wandered they saw something fall from the sky. It was like a blue insect, sadly enough he fell onto the streets.

As he was happily yelling.

“I’m alive! I’M ALIVE!” He was ran over by a blood red car.

“HA! That’s hilarious.”

Some white…spider? Thing ? Stepped out of the car, they spoke to the driver through the window, after a small talk he got angry, pointed some fingers and then the driver left.

Faintly you could hear the sound of a car crashing.

The spider looked behind them and saw an automat, you guessed that it sold drugs, because of what was written on the front in big letters ‘drugs’.

They bought some and just as they wanted to open the package of white powder it was snatched out of their hands by another demon.

You heard him yell “Hey!” And just after the thief replied “Up yours drag show” he was crushed by a gigantic piece of rubble that fell from the sky.

So you decided to walk up to the spider, with the most kindest smile that you could form and ask some stuff.

“Hello, excuse me.” Uninterested the spider turned your way, with a raised eyebrow he asked the silent question of ‘what do you want?’.

“Ah, I was wondering if I was in Hell?”

They smiled, a bit mockingly if you were honest but they answered anyway.

“You’re right hon! This is Hell. I guess you’re new here, aren’t you?”

Smiling you nodded as an answer. Slightly they narrowed their eyes but went back to normal fast.

“Lemme guess, you’re thinking that ya don’t belong here and that ya should be in heaven? ‘Cus if so, then you better give that up.”

Still smiling you shook your head, your eyes darkening with a knowing look.

“Oh, no worries. I’m pretty sure I belong here.”

Smirking at your answer they decided to end your “conversation” as the sounds of explosions and gun fire came closer. With a pair of their arms on heir hips, they used the other pair to grab your shoulders and turn you the other way around, pushing you further away from them.

“Now, it was wonderful to meet someone new but I think you should go now. See ya and goodbye.”

Then they walked away, leaving you with a stunned look, vacantly looking out in front of you.

Shrugging you decided to explore Hell, a little further down the street you could see some faint lights and a group of people standing around it. With your interest peeked you started walking towards it, as you got closer you saw that it was a shop called ‘Radio Hack’ that had a lot of tv screens on display with the news on.

You joined the group and managed to catch the last bit of the news before the break.

“Or should I say no dick?”

The woman spilled coffee on her male partner and spoke that after the break the princess of Hell would come over for an interview to talk about her newest project. From the picture that was displayed you could see that she was, quite happy for a princess of Hell.

The group remained there, waiting until the break was over. Some murmured about a person called Cherri Bomb and something called ‘turf wars’.

The break was over and you could see her sitting beside the, who you assumed, princess of Hell.

She spoke how Hell was her home and the residents her people, how she was against the extermination and said that she found a more humane way to lower the population of Hell. Her idea? Opening a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.

Some around you started laughing softly, talking how she was crazy and that her idea would never work.

“I figured that it would serve a purpose… a place to work towards redemption. Yeey?” She, well now you knew her name was Charlie, seemed to get less confident once she saw that people weren’t as excited as she was to open the hotel.

Someone new stepped within the group beside you, faint sounds, like an interrupted signal that came through a radio or something else were heard coming from the new person.

You glanced to them and noticed that they were quite tall and completely dressed in red, in an honestly, quite fashionable way. Even though it looked like it came from a few 50 years or more back.

Looking towards their face you could see that they had a gigantic smile and red eyes that glowed faintly in the shadows.

It seemed that they noticed your staring as they turned their own eyes away from the screens to yours. Trying to be polite you smiled softly and looked back to the screens where the princess was trying to convince people, standing on top of a desk and singing.

The beginning of the song (that came for heaven knows where) was calm and peaceful but as she continued it became more beat up, the music going faster.

Really liking the music you started moving side to side softly but when the guitar came your head unconsciously started nodding along with the beat.

And the only one who noticed was the one standing beside you, looking at you with a slightly amused expression. (as much as extra amusement he could show with that smile that hasn’t left his face yet)

Once she was finished it was silent for a little while before people started laughing at her.

The female news anker started belittling her, Charlie defended herself by saying that she already had a client name Angel Dust. The male sitting beside her spoke up about Charlie’s client in a surprised manner.

“The pornstar?”

The female turned to him, scratching the desk as she remarked. “You fucking would Tom.”

A very small conversation later they got breaking news, it seemed that Charlie’s client, Angel Dust, had gone to help Cherri bomb in the turf war, completely ruining everything she tried to save.

As you looked closer to the screen you noticed that Angel Dust was the spider you met when you fell down to Hell.

“Huh, talk about coincidences.”

The guy standing beside you decided to try and make conversation with you.

“How so sweetheart?”

Slightly startled by the voice and the way it sounded, you jumped a bit up, head snapping to the side where they stood. Getting over it you explained.

“Oh, well. When I fell down here, Angel Dust was the first person I spoke to. Funnily, you are the second one.”

Their smile widened, reaching higher to his ears. Your eyes averted for a small second, looking to the tv’s where the princess and Katie, you heard her name passing by, fighting with each other.

Hearing some the same weird noises that you heard previously, alongside another weird sound that you couldn’t describe, (hazbin pilot at 24:11 if you wanted to know) you turned back to your conversation partner, who you saw perking back up, looking at you innocently as if he didn’t have anything to do with the sounds.

“How wonderful! I presume you fell today? If so then I hope you had a warm welcome”

Out of nowhere you could hear laughing, like from some sort of show, like the Nanny. Smiling at the small world play and the unknown laughs, you decided that they seemed like a swell person to be around.

“Haha, that is true. You could say that my first time in hell was pretty hot to see. I’ve been here for probably around…let me think…. Maybe two hours at most?”

You weren’t sure why but his mile just grew even more at your answer, though it could be your little poke at Angel Dust in the form of a bad attempted pun.

Once the commotion had finished around the screens you decided that it was time to find a place of residence. Before that you remembered something that you had forgotten to do. “Ah! How impolite of me. I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Y/N L/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

They smiled and put out their hand for you to shake as they introduced themselves.

“Alastor. And a pleasure indeed my dear. Now I apologize but it seems that I have to cut this pleasant conversation short, I have some things I need to take care of you see?”

 Smiling softly you nodded understandingly at his words. He was very polite.

“No worries. I too, have to go take care of some things.”

Saying bye to each other you saw him walk away.

Your eyes followed after him, and the one thing you noticed.

Was the way everyone, every other demon, big or small, moved out of his way as he passed through. No one daring to come close as they avoided eye contact.

Your previously narrowed eyes went back to normal as you plastered a lovely smile on your face when you saw that he looked back to send you one last smile.

Perhaps he wasn’t as trustworthy as he at first seemed.

Chapter three

I just wanted to add a little something. Thanks to @silvernight7​ and @putridjoy​  the comments you guys left were the firsts on all the platforms i have this on and they made me very happy. I’d like to kindly dedicate this chapter to you two as you both had given me the motivation to write another chapter. Not to mention the people who reblogged and left hearts, everything i saw made me melt and i can’t thank you readers enough! I love you all! ~T.S

[kathyprior4200]

The Shadow and The Microphone

Alastor’s Shadow (Rotsala) and Alastor’s Microphone (Dave) have been a part of the Radio Demon since he arrived in Hell. Nobody except Alastor knows their actual names…and their names are ones they gave themselves. After Alastor made a deal with Kalfu and evil spirits in his human life and shortly after his death, he was granted with enough raw power to topple dominant overlords and spread terror to the denizens of Hell.

 Alastor’s shadow was born of dark Voodoo magic. He first remained in human Alastor’s subconscious as dark matter (courtesy of Kalfu’s magic and Alastor’s mother wishing for Alastor to not be alone after death)… until he was free when his owner died. After gathering some ingredients and retrieving Dr. Facilier’s spell book, Alastor painfully separated his shadow from himself. After briefly feeling vulnerable in the dark, and almost attacking Alastor, the shadow submitted to him and became his body guard and companion. He helps Alastor control the other shadow demons and acts as a second in command in battle.

 Like Dr. Facilier’s companion, Alastor’s shadow has a mind of his own and manifests as a dark apparition of Alastor’s most sinister thoughts and desires. He usually makes growling and cackling sounds (like Facilier’s shadow) but can communicate telepathically with Alastor. He frequently appears as a tall dark man with Alastor’s tuff ears, a wide grinning mouth, and glowing eyes. His eyes and mouth can change color from deep red to bright blue, to yellow and anything in between. He can switch between an Alastor form and a more sinister wendigo-like form with large fangs and a rack of antlers extending from his head. Alastor can also see through his shadow’s eyes, thus he also acts as a spy. Alastor’s shadow gains strength by eating the shadows of other demons, preventing them from moving and making it easier for Alastor to kill them.

 Alastor’s microphone staff is a living part of him. The radio voice that comes from it is actually a radio version of his human voice. It first manifested as a non-magical microphone staff decorated with golden antlers around it that human Alastor had made to show off his famed radio host status. Alastor had used a bit of magic to gather more listeners around their radios. Sadly, it was broken and burned after his death. A dark entity merged with the red vintage microphone staff created for Alastor by the dark spirits/Loa. The microphone spoke “I heard you loud and clear!” in the first episode. Like Alastor’s shadow, the microphone has a mind of its own.

 The microphone staff has a single red eye that glows when it is turned on. The microphone is what allows Alastor to broadcast his murders…the eye shines a light from the microphone. The microphone has other unique powers that could be an extension to Alastor’s many Eldritch powers of tentacles, teleportation, portals, blood magic etc. When the staff plays music mixed with static and demons stare at it too long, they can become hypnotized, eyes turning to red radio dials. Powerful radio waves can be blasted from the microphone with three taps of the staff to the ground. These waves can push demons back and blast their eardrums and brains. Alastor can swipe the staff to make things appear, as shown when he used it to make clothing appear on Vaggie. When Alastor goes full demon/wendigo form, the staff is used to mimic voices, sounds, and music to lure victims in (like Siren Head). But the microphone’s main purpose is to assist Alastor in his broadcasting.

 Without those two beings, Alastor would’ve had more of a challenge taking over areas of Hell…and it’d be far less entertaining!

Chapter One: That’s Entertainment

 “Well ladies and gentleman, Happy New Year and happy survival to all the lucky ones out there! The twenty four hours of the Extermination have passed and man, was it quite the show! The princess is shooting fireworks from the balcony as we speak, which means it’s safe to head out and try to claim new territory. Though if any of you sinners go near my radio towers, you’ll wish that the Exterminators had ended you right then and there. I hope you enjoyed this long and lovely broadcast. Until next time! Stay tuned.”

 Alastor’s microphone soon blinked off from its glowing red state. The microphone let out a low mechanical groan of relief. Sure it was the microphone’s job to allow Alastor to broadcast massacres and music whenever he wanted, but even a device needed proper rest after a while. The microphone closed its single red eye and faded to sleep.

 Alastor had spent the majority of the time broadcasting from within his lair, located underneath Hell and in the realm of shadow spirits. It had gotten the nickname “Deer Den,” by other sinners, though he liked the name as well. Soon though, he quietly arrived to the surface via portal to enjoy the finale of the screams, shrieks, and slaughters of the Exterminators cutting down demon after demon. Turning around from the wall-length glass window he glanced back toward a darkened corner of the studio.

 “It’s alright, you can come out now,” he said in a radio voice.

 A brief slither of movement in the dark space.

 “Come on,” he coaxed. “No Exterminators, nor angelic spears to hurt us.”

 Ever so quietly, the darkness inched forward to reveal a head poking out from within the wall. Out emerged Alastor’s shadow. He stood the same height as Alastor and had the same fluffy deer ear tufts and tattered dress coat that he wore. He even had a deer tail and antlers branching out from his head. The antlers shrank back as he opened his blue mouth an inch. There was a row of sharp dark teeth, and his eyes glowed blue. A chittering sound mixed with static emitted from the shadow as his eyes looked around for any sign of danger. There was only his owner standing in front of him.

 “Good,” said Alastor as he looked at him. “Come along, we have work to do.”

 The shadow obliged and pooled into the floor out of sight as he followed Alastor out the door.

 As Alastor was walking, the shadow briefly floated up into the air, surveying the scene. There were bloodied bodies everywhere. Many of them had weapons pierced through their skulls or spilled organs. Alastor may have been a little hungry, but he was humming happily along the street instead, keeping an eye out for any useful angelic spears. He found one and happily plucked it from a horned demon corpse. The spear vanished in his hand, reappearing back in his lair.

 Alastor ignored the brief pangs of hunger from his stomach. Just the smell of blood and decaying flesh in the air was beginning to make the demon’s mouth water a little as he hummed.

 His shadow, on the other hand…

 The sound of crunching came from behind the Radio Demon. Alastor’s ears flicked before he turned around. He cleared his throat and glared.

 The shadow was on his knees in front of a dead demon, his mouth chewing on flesh and muscle like a starved wolf. He saw Alastor and froze, a piece of flesh falling from his mouth. It looked like a child being caught in the act of stealing a snack.

 “What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be looking for spears and watching my back.”

 The shadow let out a deer bleat mixed with static. His voice sounded like snippets of different voices together.

 “But I’m hungry!”

 “There are more important things to focus on, dear fellow,” he said. “You’d be wise to learn some self-restraint.”

 Reluctantly, the shadow wiped his mouth and hovered closer to Alastor.

 “That’s better, now let’s be off.”

They soon arrived at one of the looming radio towers. The top of it had a blinking yellow eye that always peered in every direction like an all-seeing eye. It was constantly humming and retaining energy that lurked within the metal beams. There was a nearby cabin that served as one of many studios that Alastor had made for himself. It reminded him of his family’s summer cabin back when he was alive.

 “Go make your round,” Alastor ordered. The shadow flew into the air, searching above and below for any intruders. There were no signs of any demon trying to cross the boarders or break in. After a few minutes, he returned by his owner’s side and chittered in affirmation.

 With the areas clear and safe, Alastor made his way further into Pentagram city, his shadow vanishing again.

 With his shoes clacking against the pavement, Alastor walked over behind a flaming blue deer overlord and Crymini, the Hellhound. Charlie was on TV, talking about her plan to open up a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.

 Alastor stood behind two hellhound twins wearing crop tops and a hanging jester. Next to him was a poster that showed him in his demon form terrorizing the circus, demons trapped within flames inside the tent. His army of voodoo horned imps carrying knives and skulls on pikes surrounded the tortured sinners. The words were bold and full of warning: “BEWARE HIM!” “DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM!” In tiny letters off to the side on the wall read: “for a good time: 666-373-9494.”

 Alastor tilted his head to the side in curiosity. His shadow appeared off to his right, morphing into a snarling wendigo deer-like creature. He couldn’t help but tap his foot and hum along as she sang.

 The shadow stared in curiosity as well, his mouth open in hunger. He was anxious to witness Alastor mess with other demons again. He just hoped that if he happened to kill some that he’d get a good share of the meat. Sharing Alastor’s love of singing and music, the shadow swayed his body from side to side, even trying to sing along.

 After Charlie had finished singing, Alastor laughed out loud. That was quite the performance he had seen! He particularly enjoyed Charlie’s demon transformation and her conjuring of fire for the special effects. And he had to admit that she was a good singer too, despite her ridiculous idea.

 But his favorite part came up next.

 In the blaring red lights, Charlie and Katie fought each other on the desk. Katie was in her insect demon form, crawling on her hands and limbs. She briefly held Charlie down, who dodged and then leapt at Katie, knocking both of them off the table.

 “She’s pretty and has a feisty spirit,” Alastor thought.

 “Why won’t anyone help me?” Tom Trench yelled as flames rose from his body.

 “You’re on fire, Tom Trench!” Alastor exclaimed, while laughing at his own joke.

  Befriending the princess, and doing something different seemed like a good idea. He glanced over at a faraway Happy Hotel building.

 He knew where he would go next. His shadow vanished again.

  After following the white limbo to the hotel in his car, he got out and made his way up to the double stained glass doors with the apple designs on them. Upon further inspection of the hotel, he noticed it was a unique design if not a bit under wear and tear. From the Titanic-like ship off to the side to the hanging carousel that made up a balcony…and perhaps his favorite part, the circus tent overhang in the front decorated with eye designs.

 He had never actually met Charlie before but he heard that she was powerful and different among the demons. For one, she was born in Hell, and two, she was the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith, king and queen of Hell.

 He would have to tread carefully around members of the royal family. Though he thought of them as amusing, he knew how powerful they were.

 Sweat formed on his forehead and he found himself glancing around.

  Why was he suddenly…nervous?

 Somebody like him couldn’t afford to let any sign of weakness show. Of course He wanted to make a good first impression, plus he was sort of curious as to why she would pursue this rehabilitation idea. His nervousness faded away when he imagined Charlie as naïve. Maybe he could easily trick her and not have to be caught by anyone?

 The best thing he could do for the moment was be polite and offer to help. As any good charmer and manipulator knew, first impressions and the process were everything…

 And a nice big smile was the crème de la crème.

  Puffing out his chest, he knocked on the door.

 It was a very slow “Shave and a Haircut knock.”

  The knocking from outside interrupted Charlie’s thoughts. She opened her eyes.

  An ice cold feeling of dread spread through her veins. No other demon would ever do that kind of knock.

 Unless…

 She tentatively reached out her hand to the door handle, and quickly pulled it open.

 Sure enough, the most feared demon in Hell was standing right outside her door. A couple of shadow spirits poked their heads through.

 Charlie’s face morphed into sheer terror, eyes wide as saucers.

 Yes, there she was, right in front of him. Alastor opened his eyes as they glowed red, a radio sound emitting from him.  His staff turned on with a red glow. His eyes dilated playfully as he raised a finger in greeting.

 “Hell…”

 The door abruptly slammed shut.

 Brief silence.

 Charlie opened it again…

 “…oooo!”

 Slammed it again.

 Alastor could hear Charlie’s muffled voice from inside.

 “Hey Vaggie!”

 “What?”

 “The Radio Demon is at the door!”

 “What?!”

 “Who?” asked Angel.

 “What should I do?!” Charlie asked.

 “Well, don’t let him in!” Vaggie said.

  A growl formed in Alastor’s throat.

 He stood there, shocked in front of the stained glass door, smile still plastered on his face, hand and curved claw in the air.

 “Well… that was…rude,” he thought. “Usually people are too sacred to answer when I come by. Or they rush to try and please me because they know I could slaughter them at any time. I’ll just wait here then…or maybe break this door down…”

 He had been turned down not once but twice by her! If she had been an average demon, she would’ve been a bloody heap on the floor. The princess should know better than to reject anyone like that, especially a prideful demon like himself.

 Any offense to his pride would not go unnoticed.

 Charlie opened the door again.

 “May I speak now?” Alastor asked, hiding his anger.

 “You may,” said Charlie.

 Alastor held out his right hand to her, which briefly glowed. He half expected her to reach out and shake it right away…which would’ve proven her naïve nature…but instead she just stood there.

  “Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure.”

 He eagerly grabbed her wrist and leaned his face close to hers before strutting inside. Charlie stood, dumbfounded, her hand still out.

 “Excuse my sudden visit,” he went on, “but I saw your fiasco on a picture show and I just couldn’t resist. What a performance!”

 Audience cheers came from his staff as he turned around.

  “Why I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929!”

 He bobbed his head side to side and burst into laughter. He glanced back at Charlie who was by the door. “So many orphans!”

 A sharp spear was suddenly pointed at him. He froze in fear, his smile still on his face.

 “Stop right there!” It was Vaggie.

 She swore in Spanish under her breath: “Carbon hijo de perra! (Idiotic son of a bitch!) I know your game. And I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you pompous, cheesy, talk show shitlord!”

 Alastor’s eyes narrowed and glowed. He made a low noise of warning.

 “You have a lot of nerve to stand up to me like that, girl,” he thought. “You don’t know anything about me, and you certainly aren’t going to stand in my way.”

 Alastor merely laughed slightly and nudged the weapon away with his fingers. Charli and Vaggie were in front of him.

 “Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here…”

 He added in a low creepy tone, “I would have done so already.”

 His red eyes briefly turned to red radio dials and radio static filled the room. He tilted his head slightly, letting his chaotic magic roam. Vaggie and Charlie were frozen in fear as they caught glimpses of red Voodoo symbols, static, and warped reality.

 Then just as quickly, the noise and magic ceased and Alastor shook his head, eyes back to full red. For a brief moment, they had been small red pupils inside black sockets.

 “That scare should teach them to remember their place,” he thought.

 He bowed. “No, I’m here because I want to help!”

 Charlie was sure she hadn’t heard him right.

 “Say what now?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

 “Help!” he responded with another laugh, leaning in close before moving back.

 He held up his microphone staff.

  “Hello?” he asked with a laugh. “Is this thing on? Testing, testing…”

 He tapped it and a glowing red eye appeared in the center. “Well, I heard you loud and clear!” the microphone responded, eye shaking in fear.

 The microphone didn’t take kindly to be shaken out of its stupor.

 “Um…you want to help?” Charlie asked.

 Alastor appeared behind the demon girls, hands on their backs, switching from a shadow to his regular self. Both Vaggie and Charlie flinched.

 “With…” he mentioned in an imitation of Charlie’s voice,

“…this ridiculous thing you’re trying to do!” finishing in his normal voice. “This hotel!”

 Charlie could hear the call bell ding twice on the table, even though no one was there to ring it.

 “I want to help you run it.”

 “Uh…why?” Charlie asked, confused.

 Alastor laughed again. “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer absolute boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades!”

 He placed his elbow on an annoyed Vaggie’s head.

 “My work became mundane...lacking focus…”

 He then shoved Vaggie aside. She was clearly an inferior little doll he could push around.

 “…aimless!” he continued. “I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!”

 He laughed again.

Charlie looked downcast. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as entertainment?”

 Alastor laughed again.

 “It’s the purest kind, my dear! Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage! And the stage is a world of entertainment!”

 Charlie brightened a bit. “So, does this mean that you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon?”

Alastor help up a hand and laughed. “Of course not. That’s wacky nonsense! Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! Nononono, I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such loathsome sinners!”

 He glanced at Vaggie and Angel Dust sitting on the sofa, mischief in his eyes. They would be fun to mess with.

  “The chance given to them was the life they lived before; the punishment is this!”

  He spread out his arms, turning away. “There is no undoing what is done!”

 His eyes glowed red, pupils constricted. There really was no way to change the past. All the sinners were destined to suffer in a matrix of pleasure, illusion, and the threat of a second death. For Alastor, every demon was a lost cause…and paradoxically, that also included him.

 He had dealt with authority figures before in his previous life…those racist religious folk who believed that God and the elite had complete control over his fate and the fate of everyone else. Now here it was again, in the form of God, the angels, Vox, Lucifer pretty much anybody he hated. It wasn’t his fault he killed and ate all his victims.  If certain people hadn’t pushed him over the edge…

 He glanced over when he heard Charlie’s voice.

 “So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?” Charlie asked.

 Alastor smirked and looked at Charlie over his shoulder. “Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!”

 He pulled her close to him with his arm and twirled her around in a quick dance. Charlie narrowed his eyes at him and gave him a look. He ignored her. “I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure.”

 Off to the side, his shadow appeared and cackled.

 Alastor’s eyes glowed red and his left eyebrow raised slightly. Just the thought of having the fates and lives of demons in his hands was enough to get him excited…or perhaps even aroused.

 “Right…” Charlie began, slowly removing his clawed hand from her shoulder. Alastor’s hand flinched at the sudden touch.

 Alastor chuckled and took her aside for a walk. “Yes indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who better to help than I.”

 He impressed her further with some charm and making his staff appear in his hand.

  Vaggie walked up to Charlie and pulled her aside.

 “Charlie, listen to me. You just can’t believe this creep! He isn’t just a happy face! He’s a dealmaker, pure evil! He can’t be redeemed! And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do.”

 Alastor drummed his fingers against his palm, listening in on their conversation with a grin.

 “I…” Charlie began. “…we don’t know that. Look…I know he’s bad, and I know he probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m trying to do. Everything I believe in.”

 Alastor stared in fascination at a family picture on the wall. It showed Lucifer dressed in white, Lilith in a dark purple dress, and Charlie as a little girl wearing a brown and white dress in the middle. The picture border consisted of branches and yellow eyeballs and a dried rose in the upper right hand corner.

 “Such a lovely portrait! A picture of perfection! It’d be such a shame if something awful were to happen to them…”

 “Just trust me,” Charlie added placing comforting hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders, “I can take care of myself.”

 Charlie,” warned Vaggie, “Whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!”

 From a distance, Alastor opened up the palm of one hand, claws curled inward, hand glowing. From his viewpoint it looked like he was grabbing onto both girls. They glanced in his direction, worry on their faces.

 “I’ll have these two in the palm of my hand…”

 “Don’t worry, Charlie replied to Vaggie. “I picked up one thing from my Dad…” she spoke in a manly voice, “Ya don’t take shit from other demons!”

 Gathering her courage, Charlie marched over to the Radio Demon.

  “Ok, so…Al. You’re sketchy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a joke. But I don’t.”

 Charlie turned away. She was so close and so vulnerable. It took all of the shadow’s restraint not to lunge at Charlie and sink his teeth into her.

 Red Voodoo symbols floated around Alastor as his eyes glowed.

 “If you could stay turned around so I can knock you out…” he thought.

Charlie narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and the symbols vanished.

 “So close,” he thought in frustration as she turned around to face him.

  Charlie continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no tricks or voodoo strings attached.”

 Alastor twirled his cane and held out his hand. “So it’s a deal then?”

 Flashes of eerie green light surrounded him, electricity snaking up the walls. The shadow’s eyes turned green, his smile growing wider.

 “Nope!” Charlie yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking! No deals!”

 Alastor’s eyes constricted, and the shadow moped in the distance out of sight. “She rejected my deal,” he thought. “This will be more challenging than I expected.”

 He walked forward a step.

 Charlie continued.  “As princess of Hell, and heir to the throne, I uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel, for a long as you desire.”

 The shadow and the microphone hid in laughter. Her request was so vague, it left room for so many loopholes. That meant that Alastor could leave and betray the hotel whenever he saw fit.

 A moment of pause…Alastor brushed his hair back.

 “Sound fair?” she asked.

  “Hmm. Fair enough. Cool beans.” Alastor shrugged, walking on and making his cane disappear. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and even did a thumbs up.

 Alastor stopped and spotted Vaggie off to the side. How pathetic she was, frowning like that. He smirked in a way outside observers would describe as lecherous. He tickled her under her chin with a finger.

 “Smile, my dear! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!”

 Alastor hummed happily on his way, while Vaggie growled in disgust and rage.

 “So…where is your hotel staff?” Alastor asked.

 “Uh, well…” Charlie began. Alastor peered at Vaggie through his monocle. “Oh ho ho ho, you’re going to need more than that.”

 He walked over towards Angel.

 “And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

 Angel grinned. “I can suck your dick!”

 Alastor could almost scream in disgust after hearing that.

 “Ha! No.” Alastor deadpanned.

 “Your loss,” Angel said with a slight laugh. Alastor summoned his cane.

“Well, this just won’t do!” Alastor exclaimed. “I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up!”

 The spell came easily in his mind: “dife sèvitè, reveye.”

  He snapped his fingers and a fire sparked to life in a small circular fireplace. Animal skeletons decorated either side of the wall. The wall and fireplace were repaired.

 A dark figure plopped down onto the chimney floor.

 Alastor walked over and picked up the creature with his hand. A large single yellow eye was revealed. Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie peered at the creature. In a puff of smoke and a squeak, the creature revealed herself. A cute cyclops girl was wearing a pink dress with a poodle on the front, her short wide hair dark magenta with a streak of yellow.

 “This little darling is Niffty!” Alastor introduced, before dropping her. She landed on her feet. She was an adorable little thing.

“Hi! I’m Niffty!” she greeted with a wave. “It’s nice to meet you! It’s been a while since I’ve made new friends!” She laughed slightly and her pupil grew smaller, darting in circles.

 “Why are you all women?” she asked. “Have any men here?! I’m sorry, that’s rude.” She missed the fact that Angel was male, for obvious reasons.

 She briefly picked up Charlie, while Vaggie held her spear defensively at her.

 “Oh man, this place is filthy!” she exclaimed, running around and lifting up couch cushions. “It really needs a lady’s touch, which is weird, because you’re all ladies, no offence.” She chewed on a black spider she found, then rushed toward some stained glass windows.

 She darted around, using a dust ruffle to clean them. “Oh my gosh, this is awful! No, no, no…Nope!”

 She raced around, removing cobwebs, then poking at a piece of a voodoo doll. Well, it was actually a live blue beetle doll that Alastor had stabbed with a clothing pin for Niffty to play with. Alastor looked amused, while the others stared in disbelief.

 “So fortunate of me to have met her in Hell. A former chimney sweeper in the 20th century. Heard she died from too much smoke. Services are still good! Though, I didn’t give her much of an option to begin with…” he thought.

   Meanwhile, at a casino, a cat demon placed a joker, an ace, a 2, and a fourth card down on the table. He had black and white fur, wore a black top hat and had red wings with card suits decorated on them. He also had long red eyebrows and wore a red bow tie.

 “Ha!” he declared in triumph. “Read ‘em and weep, boys!”

 He suddenly felt himself being forcefully pulled out of the room through space and time.

  “Full…whoa!”

 “Transpòte ganbadeur la.”

 He ducked as a curtain of red energy surrounded the existing space. Voodoo symbols flashed in the background along with eight yellow eyes, a creepy voodoo skull and a purple skeleton of a worm-like creature. Another voodoo skull with horns appeared for a moment not too far from tan ghost-like spirits with creepy faces and a row of jagged teeth.

 The cat demon figured he must have had too much booze to drink.

 “…the hell?”

 As the images faded, he soon found himself at the hotel bar, not in the previous room at the casino. A large “Come and play Blackjack” sign took up much of the wall behind him. Most peculiar, the gray wood walls were missing halfway up, replaced by the red themed décor of the hotel. Husk was sitting in a portion of the casino he was in. It felt like he was in a house with no roof surrounded by the outside world.

 “What the fuck is this?”

 He saw Alastor and pointed an accusing claw.

 “You.”

 “Ah, Husker, my good friend!” Alastor cheerfully greeted. “Glad you could make it!”

 Husk could have at least been polite for once, but Alastor decided to let it slide.

 Alastor’s head briefly had the appearance of large antlers sticking out from either side. When he moved it, it was revealed to be an antler skull with glowing green eyes hanging in the background. Snakes were wrapped around one of the white curtains supporting a bar stand. “Big Booze,” “Welcome” and “Big Soul” signs were placed overhead on the stand. Neon green card suits consisted of the designs at the bottom of the stand.

 “Don’t you “Husker” me, you son of a bitch!” Husk spat, and swiped Alastor’s hand aside from his shoulder. “I was about to win the whole damn pot!”

Husk stared in anger as the stacks of money and chips on the table vanished in static.

 “Good to see you too!” added Alastor.

 Husk face palmed. “What the hell do you want with me this time?”

 Alastor grabbed hold of him, startling him so much that cards fell from his hands.

 “My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that’s okay.”

 Husk was taken aback. “Are you shittin’ me?!”

 “No, I don’t think so,” Alastor replied. He casually brushed off his sleeves.

 Husk shoved the Radio Demon off him. “You thought it would be some kind of big fuckin’ riot just to pull me outta nowhere? You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ clown?”

 “Maybe.”

 Audience laughter emitted from the microphone.

 “I ain’t doin’ no fuckin’ charity job,” Husk protested.

 Alastor appeared next to him, startling the cat demon. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment.”

 He pointed toward the bar stand with the staff. The sound of audience clapping came from his radio staff.

 “With your charming smile and welcoming energy…”

 Alastor spread the corners of Husk’s mouth upward into a demonic smile of yellow teeth. Husk frowned seconds after he let go.

 “…this job was made for you!”

 Alastor strutted over toward the bar stand, the soles of his shoes revealing red hoof prints as he walked.

 “Don’t worry, my friend,” Alastor continued, “I can make this more welcoming…if you wish.”

 With a curve of his fingers, a green bottle of cheap booze appeared on the counter.

 Husk stared with wide eyes, suddenly very thirsty. He swore he could hear the sound of a slot machine.

 “What, you think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?!” He took the bottle on anger. “Well you can!”

 He immediately guzzled it down and walked away.

 “Too easy,” thought Alastor.

 By this time, Charlie, Vaggie and Angel Dust had arrived to see what the commotion was about. Vaggie rushed toward the bar, furious.

 “Hey, hey, hey, hey!” yelled the moth demon. “No, no bar, no alcohol. This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of…mouth, brothel, man-cave…”

 Angel lunged himself into her, knocking her to the floor.

 “Shut up! Shut! Up! We are keeping this.” He pointed at Husk with multiple gloved hands.

  He slid up to Husk. “Hey,” he said in a flirtatious voice.

“Go fuck yourself,” Husk deadpanned, drinking his booze.

 “Only if you watch me,” Angel retorted.

 To make matters worse for Husk, Charlie leaned in close to him, excitement and red stars in her eyes.

 “Oh my gosh! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You are going to love it here!”

 “I lost the ability to love years ago,” Husk replied, gulping down more booze.

Alastor walked in, an ever-present grin on his face.

 “So, what do you think?”

 Charlie ran over to him. “This is amazing!” she beamed.

 Alastor’s eyes blinked rapidly at the sweet sight of Charlie rubbing her cheeks and smiling at him. He could watch it all day.

 “It’s okay,” Vaggie said from nearby, arms crossed.

 Alastor laughed and pulled the two girls close to him. “This is going to be very entertaining!”

 He shoved Vaggie again and his laughter mixed with the sound of an old radio.

 Alastor conjured fire in his hand…Charlie stared in wonder at the flames and the voodoo symbols. He threw the flames in the air, distracting Charlie from him shoving aside her friend hard. Alastor then changed his attire with magic. He now wore a fancy red suit with a white undershirt and a black bow tie. A red top hat appeared on his head, complete with small spikes along the black band and two needles sticking out from the top. He twirled Charlie around in a dance, the princess looking stunned. Pointing his finger over her head, he transformed Charlie’s outfit. Her blonde hair was now short and wavy. She wore an elegant black and red dress, black gloves, a pink hat with a small black bow and black heels. She looked like a dapper lady from the early 20th century.

 Charlie stared at her conjured clothing in amazement.

Vaggie was on the floor, fuming.

 Alastor began to sing as he danced with Charlie, a new spring in his steps.

 “You have a dream

 You wish to tell

 He turned to the fuming Vaggie on the floor, letting her know that he thought Charlie’s idea was silly.

 “and it’s so laughable…”

 He turned back to Charlie.

 “But hey kid, what the hell!”

 Alastor picked Charlie up and threw her into the air. She yelped in delight and landed gracefully next to him. Two glowing apples and a skull with deer horns flashed in the background.

 Reality had been altered to the Radio Demon’s liking. The entire room was lit in psychedelic colors. Voodoo symbols and shapes were etched in every nook and cranny, including a pair of pink claws reaching for the door. Alastor and Charlie waltzed in the spotlight as electro swing music began to play in the distance. The all-encompassing noise, though, was the signature radio-static sound.

 Charlie found herself sliding down one of the apple-etched railings, Alastor leading the way. They landed on the lower floor as Alastor continued his reprise.

 “Cause you’re one of a kind

A charming demon belle!”

 Deer statues and painted antlers were everywhere.

 Back at the bar stand, Husk sat looking bored. Vaggie hissed at Angel grabbing onto her shoulder, while Niffty stared in wonder. Alastor snapped his fingers and their outfits changed as well.

 Angel was wearing a neon pink suit, Husk a pink bow tie, Vaggie a dark dress, with her hair now smooth and long, and finally Niffty, with a cute top hat with small flowers.

 “Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell

(Take it, boys!)”

 Alastor snapped his fingers once more and shadowy imps rose to life from a hole in the ground. The happy spirits played a trumpet, a tuba, and a drum set. Charlie snapped her fingers to the beat, while Vaggie watched with worry. She reached out to her friend but was pulled away by Alastor. He enveloped the group into a tight hug with a laugh, followed by glowing images of dark spirits staring at them. Niffty watched in amazement, but not the other three.

 “Inside of every demon is a lost cause…”

Alastor pulled Husk and Angel close again. He rubbed Angel’s head with a white hat and went on his merry way. Husk gave him the bird as he left.

 “But we’ll dress ‘em up now with just a smile!”

(With a smile!)

  Vaggie stood, annoyed in the spotlight. Using his cane, Alastor added a feathered peacock hat and a white fox fur to her outfit. She looked ridiculous. Then out of nowhere, he slapped her butt.

 Vaggie seethed in rage after he walked away.

 Alastor danced some more, kicking a horned skull to the side. In the background, Niffy happily swept up the bits of bone.

 “And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool

With some old redemption flair

And show these simpletons some proper class and style!

(What’s in style? Oh!)”

 He made his way to the circular fireplace, where he waved his staff. Shadows arrived to join the party, including his own shadow, with large antlers and fangs.  The shadow grabbed onto his shoulders and grinned, his mouth and eyes blue. Alastor made him disappear in a poof, then snuck toward Charlie. He led her in an upbeat dance, spinning her around, helping her match her steps to his. Charlie blushed when Alastor toyed with her cheeks. As Charlie was led away, Vaggie stood in the background, horrified and disgusted. What was happening to her friend?

 Charlie and Alastor laughed as they danced, the princess locked in a happy trance. Alastor was in his element, his pupils dilated, a joyful demeanor.

 Maybe this could turn into something more? Could it even be…love?

 “Here below the ground

I’m sure you’re plan is sound!

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Hazbin Ho…”

  Alastor was about to finish his song, when an explosion burst apart a window behind him. He stood frozen, pupils constricting, his body going alert.

 Whatever, or whomever had interrupted his song was going to pay dearly.

 Niffty stared in amazement, shouting “Whoo!” before she was blasted backwards, the door hitting her in the face.

 Alastor’s spell soon wore off and everyone was back in their regular clothes. Alastor, Husk (still drinking), Niffty, Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie, peered out of the hole to see what was going on. Vaggie had her weapon at the ready.

 Looking skyward, the group saw a cracked blimp in the air. It had a small random band aid with a sad face on it along the rim. A familiar snake villain popped out of his hideout.

 “Ha!” Sir Pentious laughed. “Well, well, well, look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet again, Alastor!”

 Apparently, he was also rivals with Alastor.

 But Alastor simply asked, “Do I know you?”

 The snake boss looked disappointed. Then he said in anger, “Oh yes you do! And this time, I have the element of…surprise!”

 The villain raced toward his pink velvet chair and pulled a lever. A metallic cannon lowered to the ground. The cannon fired up with pink energy as pink smoke appeared around them.

 “He laughed manically. “I’m so evil!”

 Then he added, “I have an Egg army!”

 “Well, we have an Alastor,” Charlie responded.

 Alastor snapped his fingers, red tendrils of smoke rising from his hand. The weapon froze in mid fire and a fiery portal opened up below the blimp.

 A horde of black tendrils rose from the hole, latching onto the ship. One tentacle ripped off the cannon and threw it into another smaller portal, causing it to explode in pink smoke. One of the tentacles had already smashed a hole in the large round window.

 Sir Pentious looked on in shock as his Egg Bois slammed against the wall (one of them read #Ouch.) One of the eggs cracked open, spilling out yellowish brains and small organs among the stains of yok. Sir Pentious and another minion were thrown against the wall.

 “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he screamed before he was slammed against the ceiling by a black limb.

 “Oh, that hurt!” he cried.

 Sir Pentious screamed as he was dragged along the floor and lifted up slightly. He was held in place, surrounded by the wrapped up tendril. At once, the tendril shrunk and squeezed the helpless snake. The Egg Bois ran around screaming as black cracks appeared on the floor and walls.

 From the outside, more black tendrils were closing in. Red voodoo symbols appeared around the blimp.

 “Ede m 'sèrviteur.”

 Four horned shadowy spirits with red auras floated around, wearing toothy grins.

 The tendrils were now wrapped around the entire blimp, holding it in place like thick black vines.

 Red radio waves filled Alastor’s eyes as he circled his fingers and worked is magic. Voodoo symbols appeared all around him as he altered the state of reality. Radio static consumed the air.

 The vines thickened and completely enclosed the blimp. The spirits swooped around it in excitement, with echoing shrieks. The aura around the tendrils glowed a fiery yellow, the same color as the portal rim.

 “Kalfu! Destriksyon pa bra nwa.”

 Alastor closed his four-fingered hand which began to glow. A red drop of blood fell from his glowing hand. The tendrils proceeded to crush the blimp. Pink rays of light shot from the center and the blimp exploded in a loud BOOM!

 Pink smoke spread everywhere as the spirits sped away. The tendrils broke into severed bloody pieces that rained down to the ground. Alastor smiled victoriously, while behind them, the group of five stared in utter terror and shock. (Save for Niffty who had a small smile on her face).

 Alastor’s angry, bloodlust eyes spoke volumes.

 “And stay out of this hotel and from my friends you pathetic excuse of snakeskin.”

 A sharp pain throbbed on his hand and bags appeared under his eyes. Magic had taken some work from him…and it also made him hungry.

 “Well, I’m starved!” Alastor exclaimed, turning around to face the group, happy again. “Who wants some jambalaya?” He spread his arms out. “My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for jambalaya! In fact, it nearly killed her!”

 He laughed as he led the way back to the hotel. The others followed.

 “You could say the kick was right out of Hell!”

 He added while laughing at his own joke, “Oh, I’m on a roll!”

 From up above, the hotel looked like a mashed-up haunted house. An old dark train was perched on a balcony, with some monstrous faces carved in. A ship, reminiscent of the Titanic, was leaning upwards against the building as part of the structure. An old carousel served as part of the upper balcony and windows. Skull designs decorated the small windows in a row. Finally, on top of a giant yellow eye, was the sign “Happy Hotel” supported by pillars of worn wood.  

Alastor continued, “Yes, sir, this is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set! Now…”

 He glanced up and pointed his finger toward the sign. Pink electricity shot out and made contact with the sign.

 The sign now read “Hazbin Hotel.”

 “Stay tuned,” he finished with a low sinister laugh.

[meggz0rz]

INU KPOP AU

CHAPTER ONE: A KING’S PLAN, AND A VOICE WITHOUT A FACE

-MIROKU-

“Miroku?”

Miroku looked up from his phone, knowing he probably looked as bleary-eyed as he felt. Sesshomaru, always a fan of dramatic flair, kept the lights in his top-floor office purposely dimmed, and so even in the waiting room outside the double doors to the inner sanctum, it was hard to see very well. Or at all, really.

Kagura stood there in her smart straight-legged jeans and heels, chewing on the lid of a ballpoint pen and squinting down at her customary appointment diary. It seemed even after years of working side-by-side with her oh-so-famous household name of a client, she hadn’t completely adjusted to the lack of visibility either. 

Miroku had thought to ask her about it once, several years ago, and she had just shrugged and laughed quietly to herself, saying something about Sesshomaru “having his quirks just like every other genius” but saying it with clear fondness.

“You can go in now. ‘The King’ is ready and waiting.”

They exchanged a smirk, and Miroku stood up from the plush bench (which wouldn’t have looked out-of-place in a museum exhibit about Louis XIV) and cracked his neck.

He’d only been waiting forty minutes. New record.

But then again, Sesshomaru ran on Sesshomaru time. And if Sesshomaru needed to delay a meeting to call his psychic and see just how the stars were aligning today for creative efforts...well, more power to him.

“Ah, Miroku,” Sesshomaru said, giving the slightest hint of a smile as Miroku poked his head in through the heavy office doors. “Come on in and have a seat.”

Miroku ambled up to one of the large high-backed chairs in front of the desk and dropped himself into it. This room was even darker, as Miroku had well known, and so when the chair on his right spoke, he had to fight not to jump in surprise.

“Sup, Rap Monk.” Inuyasha wasn’t smiling welcomely, but he did, at least, raise a single hand in greeting before returning the bitter scowl to his face and staring across the desk at his older brother.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that anymore,” Miroku sighed, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t choose that stage name to begin with, and it’s haunted me ever since.”

“Would you like something to drink, Miroku? Coffee, tea, sparkling water?” Sesshomaru held up a hand as if ready to summon Kagura to retrieve whatever it was.

“No, I’m good, thanks. What’s this all about?”

Sesshomaru took on a solemn posture, folding his hands upon his desk. If he noticed Kagura scurrying around behind him and frantically lighting even more of the candelabras that dotted every other surface in the room, he didn’t give any indication as he heaved a great sigh. 

“As you know,” ‘The King’ began, “my foolish little brother was just dropped from Naraku’s label. The group is disbanding and the label is reassigning the other members to various new projects.”

“Dropped? Fired, more like,” Inuyasha growled under his breath. “Thrown out like it was nothing, and after all these years I busted my ass - “

“There is obviously much to say about this,” Sesshomaru interrupted sternly, “but that is not what I’m concerned about at the moment. That’s not why you were summoned here, Miroku.”

Summoned. Like I’m a slave on retainer. 

Well, to be fair, Sesshomaru’s album sales didn’t lie, did they? 

Miroku would jump on command if he had to just to get a piece of the action, especially after long months of sporadic freelance producing work that were threatening to force him to - gasp - downgrade his apartment in Seoul. The very idea!

“I’m guessing you want me to produce some tracks to start Inuyasha off on a solo career?” Miroku awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “Are you gonna finance him to start out or - “

“I can finance my own damn self if I need to, thanks.” Inuyasha leaned back in the chair and crossed a leg over his lap. 

And that was probably true. 

Inuyasha, in the very beginning, had purposely signed to a label unconnected to his outrageously famous brother, had done his best to gain fame the hard way with talent and commitment and that charisma of his. He’d been, inarguably, the breakout star of his group, and had become the face of Naraku Entertainment.

Until a few months ago. When it all came crashing down.

The press had freaked out. The fans had freaked out. But Naraku Entertainment’s decision stood, and all that momentum had been squashed like an unexpecting insect on the kitchen floor.

“We are of the opinion,” Sesshomaru said, in a way that made it sound like it wasn’t anyone’s opinion but his own, “that we need to keep Inuyasha behind-the-scenes for now, so to speak. In order for him to come through this unscathed, we will need the power of the fans behind us.”

That wasn’t going to be easy. The Japanese fans had at first been outraged on Inuyasha’s behalf, but in the span of twenty-four hours they had turned, blaming him for busting up their favorite group, blaming him for being selfish.

Sesshomaru must have seen the uncertainty on Miroku’s face (which was once again, a miracle in this candlelit room covered in crushed velvet drapery), because he quickly went on. “We’re going to extend this company of mine, this label, to include a whole new crop of Japanese idols and entertainers. And we’re going to concentrate almost entirely on the Korean market.”

“Ahhh, so that’s why you wanted me to fly up here,” Miroku said, breaking into a sly smile. “Because I’m based in Seoul now.”

“We’re going to start with a female group. A small one, no more than four or five members. I want girls fluent in both Japanese and Korean.”

“A girl group? Why not a - “

“Because if it’s a bunch of guys, the press is going to think I’m just forming a new group for myself, and they’ll go ballistic and call me an ungrateful egomaniac,” Inuyasha supplied, glaring down at his clenched fist on the arm of his chair.

“Precisely,” Sesshomaru said. “And besides, this will be something grand, something the world has never seen before. A group of Japanese artists performing entirely in Korean for Koreans. It will make the home market see what they are missing, and will drum up support for a glorious comeback for all.”

“Uh...huh…?” Miroku gave a bewildered frown. “So you want me to...what, exactly?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s hiring you, idiot.” Inuyasha’s tone was growly, but from what Miroku could see in this cave of platinum records and eccentricity, he was smirking.

“To…?”

“To help me, to help Inuyasha form this group, produce and write the songs, and grow the label’s influence in a market you must know quite intimately by now.”

Holy shit. “Oh, okay, yeah that sounds like a plan.” Understatement of the century right there.

“Your first task is this,” Sesshomaru said, “I already know I want Ayame in the group. She’s been going through a similar situation with her label as Inuyasha was with his, and she’s looking to make a change. I can handle that part; she’s a good friend.”

To a man this famous, Ayame, who at one time was built up as “Japan’s Newest Idol Princess,” a girl whom everyone between the ages of twelve and forty knew, was simply “a good friend.” Oh, to live the life these people lead every day.

“A-Alright.” This was happening so fast. One minute you’re thinking of selling your old memorabilia to make rent, and the next…

“I want the others to be largely unknowns. New discoveries. I don’t want the typical formula, where girls in their early teens sign horrific contracts and are reduced to dancing, singing soldiers by the time of their debut. I want the emphasis to be that here at Taisho Entertainment, we don’t need that kind of rote repetition to make stars from nobodies.”

Miroku was starting to pick up what Sesshomaru was putting down, and it both intrigued him as a concept and terrified him beyond belief. “You want to form a fully realized K-pop girl group using girls without any formal training in the system?”

“That’s exactly what I want.”

Miroku gulped. That meant combing through thousands upon thousands of Japanese girls, weeding out the ones who couldn’t speak Korean first, then weeding out the mediocre ones, then weeding out the ‘girls-who-sing-well-but-have-no-stage-presence’ and the ‘girls-who-can-dance-their-feet-off-but-have-voices-like-dying-cats’...

“You got it.” Why do I feel like I just signed up for guaranteed panic attacks and insomnia for the next several months, or even years?

“I’ll expect a list of some good prospects to explore by the end of the week,” Sesshomaru said, “You’ll need to work closely with my brother on this. The priority here is untapped talent, and if we find a girl who’s usable, we’ll help her learn the rest.”

Time to hit up karaoke bars and YouTube, I guess.

“You’re dismissed. I’ll summon you both again in a week’s time to look over what you’ve found and work out our plans from there.”

Like a good little soldier, Miroku stood and left the office. Inuyasha sighed behind him and followed, but at a more reluctant pace.

“Where do we even start?” Inuyasha griped, shoving his hands into his pockets and kicking at the ground. 

Ding-ding-ding. Lightbulb. 

“Wait,” Miroku said, pulling out his phone and going to his streaming app. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it a second ago. I found this duo on my random playlist just last week. Apparently they’re based at Busan National University, they’re Japanese nationals, and they play the coffeehouse circuit.”

Inuyasha peered over his shoulder at the band’s profile page, emblazoned with the words ‘JxK, LOL’ which was, admittedly, a pretty terrible name for a band under any circumstances. 

“No photos,” Inuyasha pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “That’s promising. You’re right, Miroku. Brilliant idea. I see why my brother’s gonna pay you a million gazillion - “

“Alright, alright,” Miroku said irritatedly. “Enough with the snark. I know we don’t know what either of them looks like, but just listen to this girl’s voice.”

He chose a song and hit play.

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI I WILL BE COMING IN LIKE THIS QUITE FREQUENTLY TO TELL Y’ALL WHEN TO HIT PLAY ON THE LINK FOR MAXIMUM IMMERSION. OF COURSE YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO IT ONLY WHEN I SAY SO, YOU CAN LISTEN TO YOUR HEART’S CONTENT HOWEVER THE HELL YOU WANNA, BUT STILL, CONSIDER THIS YOUR CUE TO PLAY THE SONG IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY OK BYEEEE)

They both stood there, both utterly enraptured. 

As the song played, the skeptical furrow in Inuyasha’s brow seemed to gradually smoothe out, and Miroku had to fight back a laugh of triumph. 

“Okay, so she can sing,” Inuyasha said stubbornly after the last notes rang out and they were left in silence once more. “She can really sing. But aside from knowing that she’s somewhere in the huge-ass city of Busan, how can we possibly find out more about her? We don’t even know her name!”

With a flourish that would have made Sesshomaru tear up with pride, Miroku pulled up the band’s tiny social media page. Still no photos or details, but there, aha, a small list of upcoming gigs (all coffeehouses and restaurants, of course).

“Guess we got a date,” Miroku snarked.

Inuyasha sighed, blowing a lock of silvery hair out of his face. “Guess I gotta pack for a flight to Korea.”

“Pack for a week,” Miroku called after his retreating back, “It’s gonna be a busy one.”

[the-squinkle]

Egg!!!

Big Deal was becoming even more useless by the day. His eggs always came up empty, no matter what she did. She tried letting him sleep in the bed, letting him brush her hair, she even praised his horrid cooking. Nothing.

The Witch still needed him, however. It took two to tango, as the kids liked to say. “Big Deal, come here.” She called, sitting in her side chair. A plastic baggie, a pair of gleaming silver scissors, and a mirror lay on the table beside her.

The little purple gremlin crept forward, wringing his tie as he eyed the very, very sharp scissors. “Ma’am, do you want me to cut your hair?” He asked, his eyes wide with hope and awe.

“Of course not. I’m perfect just as I am.” She narrowed her eyes into white slits, then picked up the scissors with two delicate fingers. Her other hand took the baggie, and she leaned down to Big Deal’s level.

He started to shiver, sweat glistening on his brow and cheeks as the sharp blades came inching closer to his neck. “M-Ma’am?” He croaked, his throat suddenly dry.

“Quiet. I don’t pay you to ask questions.” The cold blade touched his flushed cheek, and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut. He whimpered, his knuckles turning white as he wrung out his little tie.

“Y-You don’t pay- “

“You are repaid for your servitude by the honour of serving me. Is that not enough for you?”

Snnip. A single clump of green hair fell from just under his chin, into the open baggie waiting underneath. The Witch was silent as she worked, the scissors kissing his cheek as she moved for different angles, cutting under his jawline ever so carefully. He could feel her breath on his cheek as she switched sides, trimming his little green tufts down until they were just fuzz underneath his neck.

“Give me that.” She scolded, smacking his tense hands. He released his tie in a gasp, opening his eyes and watching the Witch’s face as she pulled his tie to its full length. He felt it tighten around his neck slightly, and he was pulled forward, inching closer to her face. Her breath. Her scent. His eyes glanced down to her lips, a single bead of sweat dripping down his cheek.

Snip. She cut the tie just beneath the knot and dropped it into the baggie. She stood up, setting the scissors down and closing the plastic bag. She waved him away dismissively, then moved to the kitchen. “That will be all.”

Big Deal swayed where he stood, breathless and flushed. He fell back to his bum, panting as his tie slowly grew back to its original length. He blushed to himself, rubbing the green fuzz where his tufts used to me.

_____________________________________________________________________________________ In the dead hour of the night, the Witch began to work. She had to be up at this ungodly hour because Big Deal was so horribly thoughtful and considerate that he made breakfast at the crack of dawn, even though she never woke up before noon. Even now, she had to be careful about how loud she was being, or she would wake the little snoring blob in the bird cage.

It had been a long time since she’d baked anything, it was a marvel she could still remember the recipe. In the liquid ingredients, she dropped in Big Deal’s green hair, and a lock of her own luscious mane. She shredded his tie into tiny pieces, then stirred them in over a pot on the stove, letting the ingredients melt and blend together before adding it to her dry bowl. She worked the dough, her eyes narrowed in determination, her forearms already starting to burn from the labour.

“Six little soldiers marching one by one, Know that any cost, the war must be won Six will beat Twelve, and win Mother’s pride Borne from the flames, let rage be your guide!”

She murmured to herself before sliding six perfect little rolls into the oven, slowly letting them rise. A half hour before dawn, she took out the buns, a devilish smile crawling up her face as she admired her own work. The crusts were a crisp, golden brown, and they smelled heavenly, like only freshly baked bread could. She crept towards Big Deal’s cage, the pan in one hand, the other rooting around underneath him for eggs. She took out everyone, replacing them quickly with a warm bun. He snorted and stirred in his sleep, and she froze, her teeth bared as she scrambled for her excuse.

Then he drifted off to sleep again. Her shoulders sagged in relief, and she carefully replaced all his eggs with the little buns. She pulled back, exhausted and satisfied. She hid the pan, the eggs and dirty dishes under her bed, then crawled under the covers for a rest.

“Ma’am, Ma’am!” Something was on her bed. A very heavy, very loud something. The Witch opened her groggy eyes to see Big Deal sitting at her feet, the six buns in his lap. “Ma’am, something’s wrong! These aren’t eggs!”

“Of course they are, you moron. You’d laid again, just like yesterday. And the day before. And the day before… Mmph.” She groaned, tossing the blankets up over her head. “This is no excuse for waking me up. Go away.”

“This is bread! This isn’t… I mean, this isn’t what I expected!” He stammered, wringing his tie again, then slowly picking up one of the buns. It was just smaller than his head, and it felt so heavy in his hands. He smiled through his tears, nuzzling it gently. “Th-They’re still warm.”

“Of course they are, your fat little rump has been sitting on them all night.” The Witch grumbled under her covers.

Big Deal pulled back with a pout, staring at the lump under the blankets. He sighed, then carefully, gingerly picked up his new nest, and carried them down to the floor. He set them down in a careful pile, then counted them again.

His hand caressed one of the golden buns as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his vision blurry with tears, his nose already starting to run. Maybe it was an impossible dream. Maybe he and the Witch couldn’t really make something so wonderful happen. Still, it was nice to hope.

His hand jerked back with a gasp. A crack formed just underneath where his palm used to be. He looked to the others and saw more splintering cracks spreading over the crust. “Ma’am!” He yelped, scrambling backwards.

The Witch peeked her head out from under the covers, taking a long whiff, her snake tongue dancing in the air. She started to laugh, rolling out of bed and rising to her full height, her hands on her hips. “Finally.” She said in a low, deep voice, advancing on the shaking, cracking buns.

Big Deal scrambled to his feet, then ran behind his Ma’am, placing one hand against the side of her thigh as he peeked out. “Wh-What’s happening?”

“What’s happening? Why, your eggs are hatching, Big Deal.” She chuckled, approaching the nest with a wide grin, her red pupils dilating in a hypnotic pattern. “Of course, I added a little of myself into them. A lot of myself. My strength, my magic, my incredible powers… And of course, their father’s devotion to their mother.” She started to laugh louder, suddenly landing on all fours, leaning down to one of the rapidly cracking eggs. “Yes, yes! My own biological weapons against Twelve, the perfect killing machines! With these, Big Deal, we’ll finally take back what is rightfully mine.”

Chips of the crust fell away. The bun shook and rolled over to one side, the sight of a little reddish tail poking through. The Witch caught a glimpse of beautiful white hair. “Cheep.” Went the bun.

“Cheep?” The Witch blinked.

Four little arms broke free from the crust, and out tumbled a six-legged, tubby baby. It had white hair like its mother, a thick, chubby little body, wings on it’s first pair of arms, and a little red bow just between her horns. She shook herself off, then opened her wide, red eyes, sitting back on her rump. She tilted her head to the side. “Cheep?”

“No. No, what? Uegh!” The Witch grimaced, then rushed to another shaking bun. Behind her, Big Deal shakily approached the baby, his eyes more tears than eyeballs. He sobbed, falling to his knees and scooping the little chirping hatchling into his arms, babblings sounds that were attempting to be words.

“No!” The Witch called from another bun, which had hatched into a four-legged little tubster with a bowtie and very wide, hopeful eyes. It giggled as the Witch hissed, then plopped down to its belly, waving its little arms and legs around.

“NO!” The Witch sat back on her heels, tearing at her hair.

Out of the largest bun plopped out the fluffiest baby, it’s eyes still closed. It slowly sat up on its rump, it’s bowtie crumpled and still dusted in flour. Its long tail flicked behind it like a contented cat, and its short arms rested on its pudgy belly.

Another six-legged child was hatched, but only about halfway. It chirped and panicked inside of its crust, it’s short little arms too weak to break through all the way. Big Deal scrambled to free it, scooping it up into his arms and sobbing uncontrollably, kissing the new hatchling just between the horns. The newest sibling squeaked, its neck covered in green fur just like it’s father, a little pink bow resting on one of its horns.

A very pretty hatchling toddled around on her hind legs already, giggling and laughing, throwing about bits of the crust around at its siblings. It had six arms, and a very wide bow on the back of it’s neck that it primped and preened whenever it felt particularly beautiful.

“All of them. Every last one.” The Witch sat with her head in her hands, her shoulders slumped as Bid Deal scrambled to hold every hatchling in his arms at the same time, which proved to be quite an issue for the especially squirmy ones. “They’re all useless and cute and disgusting. This was a complete failure.” She dropped her hands to her lap, her head bowed in defeat.

Her head suddenly snapped up. She frowned, turning to her left shoulder. The last hatchling, the smallest of them all, was biting and snarling on her shoulder, its little claws scraping her red skin and it’s mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Its little insect wings were buzzing as hard as the hatchling could muster, it’s tail wagging hard from side to side. Its pupils were already dilating in a hypnotic pattern during its rage.

The Witch started to smile, reaching down and pinching the hatchling behind the nape of its neck. It went limp, panting and growling as she held it in front of her face. “Congratulations, Big Deal. I have a child.” She chuckled, standing up straight and cradling the still growling hatchling in one arm. “I don’t care what you do with the others. Just make sure they don’t get on my bed.”

Big Deal couldn’t answer. He was buried under a pile of chirping, giggling hatchlings, wailing like a child. The room was filled with the sickly smell of love, but the one in the Witch’s arms was so full of spite and rage that it almost made it all worth it. She’d never been a mother before. This could be a lot of fun.