#also I thought about giving him the tail with a fluffy end but it blended in too much with the white hair

[meezer]

sheepboy picrew

link

[english8muffin]

Vogue morning routine

Y/N Y/N/L’s guide to effortless natural makeup

Summary: you are asked to do the Vogue Beauty Secrets video and your two boys decide to join the party

Word count: around 2000

Warning: none, just pure floof!

I apologize in advance if there are any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (+ this is my very first fic)

HEADLINE Henry Cavill’s new girlfriend, designer Y/N Y/L/N reveals her everyday morning routine in recent Vogue video: Y/N Y/L/N shows off her secrets to the perfect fusion of European and Asian beauty.

You stood in the spacious bathroom of the hotel room, only wearing a big, fluffy, white robe, that was actually Henry’s. But since the man was in the gym, you took the opportunity to lend it and bathe yourself in his musky smell, that calmed your nerves. Last night you started panicking, thinking you would probably look stupid for the entire world to see, luckily Henry and Kal tried to calm you down with cuddles and kisses.

This was the first ‘interview’ you would do, being such a young, successful entrepreneur really caught the attention of the media. When you first started your small online shop, you never would have thought you would end up here. Five years later, with a steady income, the job you always wished for and the man you had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him. Being a creative, it really made your heart soar with happiness, seeing all your products, your babies, in new homes where they would make others happy.

You were really proud of yourself. Henry was as well, and he made sure you and everybody around you knew. You were apprehensive at first, being with such a well known actor, who was also much older than you, it made you nervous of what people would say, what the media would say. You didn’t want to tarnish Henry’s image. You knew there were people with a much bigger age gap, but still, people were ruthless. So you both decided to take it slow, being careful with going out in public and social media posts.

You stand in front of the large mirror, which had a camera attached to it and open up your makeup bag. Right before you went into the bathroom, you made yourself a nice cup of tea, trying to stay calm. “Hi! I’m Y/N and today I am going to show you my everyday makeup routine,” you say with a smile, “I am not a dermatologist so please don’t take what I say too seriously.”

You grab a small white washcloth and hold it up, so it was in the frame, “First, I am going to wash my face and put on a few drops of serum,” You dampen the cloth and wipe it over your face and neck. You put a few drops in the palm of your hand and pat them into your skin. “Now I going to use my jade roller to massage the serum into my skin. It’s quite funny seeing so many people use these nowadays. In ancient China they were mostly used by the elite to keep there skin ageless. They would call jade the Stone of Heaven. It’s really helpful for the people who wake up with a puffy face like me,” you chuckle.

Somethimes you’d wake up with puffy cheeks, which led to Henry calling you his chubby bunny in the morning.

“Just a quick tip, and this is for everybody, make sure you always use SPF. I personally use SPF 30 and this one is shine control, since I tend to get an oily skin, but you can also use a regular one or a foundation with SPF in it. Believe me when I say your skin will be thankful.”

You grab the small tube of sun cream and show the amount you’ll use. You even convinced Henry to wear SPF everyday. At first he said he didn’t think it would make such a big difference, but when he realised you were going to be the one to put it on him, he was convinced about its benefits and adamant to wear it everyday. After working the thick cream into your skin, you put on some lipbalm and rummage through the pouch in front of you. When you find the product you’re looking for, you hold it up. “Now, I am going to put on a bit of concealer, this one is from Maybelline. After this, I will use a lighter shade under my eyes and on my acne scars that I have here,” you point and circle around the small cluster of scars on the sides of your cheeks.

Before blending out the concealer, you smile at the lens and put in two bright yellow hairclips, to keep your dark locks from falling into your face. “I probably should have done this at the start,” you laugh. The nerves creeping up a little. It wasn’t that you where a shy person, but knowing thousands of people will watch this, did something to you. You were always a very easygoing person, who could talk with pretty much everybody. But knowing people were going to watch you do something so intimate in a way, and would probably comment on it, scared you a little. While you would be 100% yourself, doing something as mundane as getting ready. If they didn’t like you now, then they probably won’t like you later. And that was what made you so afraid.

The bathrobe falls a bit down your shoulder, but you ignore it, since your hair fell down your shoulders in big waves. “Okay, brows. I used to block them in really dark when I was younger, but now I try to keep a light hand. I’ll use this Got 2B Glued as a brow gel afterwards. The tails of my eyebrows tend to move if I don’t use a strong enough gel. If you’re Asian you will understand the struggle.”

You quickly finish your brows, put some bronzer on your face and eyelids and take out your liquid eyeliner. “Am I the only one that acts like I’m a beauty guru whenever I do my makeup? Like, I’m just acting as if I’m used to this, right now, but to be honest, I was really nervous to do this video for Vogue,” you admit, “they will probably regret asking me,” you chuckle. You finish your eyemakeup with curling your long lashes, thanks to your mother’s genes, and add a coat of mascara.

You take in a deep breath, excited to show everyone the product you had been waiting for. “The next thing I am really proud to show you guys, because I designed the packaging. This is the new limited edition blush and highlighter palette from Dior, which they created for Lunar New Year!” You beam with pride, holding up the elegant looking palette. It had a darker toned glossy finish and the borders were the traditional Chinese looking frames, which were 3D and were surrounded by a wild variety of peonies. In the middle of the lid was your Chinese calligraphy in big golden brush stokes that said ‘year of the Ox’, the clasp was designed so it resembled an antique Chinese coin and on the side hung a jade charm.

“You can pre-order this palette now, I think they will put a link-thingy in de description. I wish you all a happy and blessed Lunar New Year, 祝农历年新年快乐牛年大吉!”

Just as you’re about to add some blush to your cheeks, the bathroom door creaks open and a curly-headed, sweaty Henry pops his head in. Fresh from the gym, and were you thankful for his new intense workout, because he was truely a sight to behold. A cheeky smile graces his handsome face when he spots you in front of the mirror, only wearing his robe, which made his grin widen.

“what are you doing in here? Are you hiding from me? Playing hide and seek is it?” he teases and rakes his large hand through the tousled curls, but just as he’s done speaking, he sees the camera behind you, and blushes. “Oh, I didn’t know you were filming, I’m sorry darling,” he smiles and gives a small wave in the direction of the camera. You led out a giggle, cheeks turning red already, if he’d keep this up, you wouldn’t need to add blush. You couldn’t focus anymore, he looked so attractive, only wearing his black gym shorts and a tight dark blue tank top. Damn that camera, otherwise you would have jumped him. Henry, thought the exact same thing. Seeing you, only wearing his robe and your hair still a bit wild from this morning’s cardio, made him hold back a moan. Those two cute, yellow clips in your hair could have fooled him, because you were anything but innocent.

Before he’s about to close the door again, he blows you a kiss. But his actions are stopped when a big bear makes his appearance. Bolting past his dad’s legs, Kal comes into the bathroom. Henry tries to catch him but misses. The black and white akita excitedly sniffs his head around the sink, trying to see what you were up to with all the stuff lying on the marble counter.

“Kal!” Henry whisper-yelled, trying to stay hidden behind the door. But you could still see his massive body crouched down behind the wood. It was rather funny, seeing the large man so panicked about getting his dog to listen. It kind of reminded you of that one video from BBC were a professor was being interviewed and his baby and nanny showed up in the background. While Henry tried to get Kal’s attention, the dog just sat next to your legs, and smiled when you pet him behind his ear. He was your good boy.

You both knew there was no other option but to keep Kal here, once he saw you do your makeup, he wanted to watch and get his ‘makeup’ done as well.

Henry also saw the look in Kal’s eyes and let out a sigh. Might as well stay with his two loves. He stood up from his position and walked to you, wrapping his sweaty but oh so save body around your figure, and placed a prolonged kiss on the exposed skin just by your shoulder. So far for taking it slow… He pressed himself thighter against your back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and intertwined your hands, slowly rocking you two back en forth. “You look beautiful, my love,” he whispered, so only you could hear it, at least you hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up. You let out a little giggle, like the inner schoolgirl you were whenever he was around you.

“Kal loves when Y/N does his makeup as well, don’t you boy,” Henry explains with a smile and looks down at the bear by your bare feet. Kal gives a small ruff and sweeps his tail eagerly. “Did you show them what you made,” he asked you with a wide smile, and looked straight in to the camera, “she worked really hard on that design, so I hope you all like it,” he declared proudly.

You ended up doing your makeup routine with your two boys in the background. Henry left for a few minutes to shower in the second bathroom your hotelroom had, and came back clad in a pair of light jogging trousers and a sweater. Even though you were inside, it was still a bit too chilly to walk around in short sleeves, being mid-winter and all. He just sat on the small wooden bench by the door, still in frame for everybody to enjoy and behold. His hair now damp. He was reading in a book and patiently waiting for you to get ready, occasionally looking up and laughing when you would wet your hands or Kal’s special makeup brush in the sink and pretend to do his makeup. The dog would bark excitedly and give you kisses. “Wow Kal, you look so pretty,” Henry told the big floof with the chuckle.

“Okay, this was my -somewhat- everyday makeup routine! Thank you guys for watching this chaotic mess, hope you laughed a bit, bye-bye, 再见!” How do those vlogger end their videos? Smash like and subscribe?

Behind you Henry looked up from the pages of his fantasy book and arched his brow, “Hey! No shout-out for your special guests? See you all next time!”

WOOHOO!! This is my very first fanfic, I really hope you enjoyed it. Liking, reposting and commenting would mean a lot to me! If you do repost this, please do not edit or copy my work. I worked really hard on this.

Much love, Nahmi xxx

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[idontblushsrry]

Sesshomaru|| SFW Alphabet

A/N: Heheh he seggsy ft. a gender neutral reader

Word Count: 2140

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sesshomaru shows affection by cutting off the heads of those that would dare threaten you and overall ensuring your safety. He also lets you lay on him, whether in human form or demon form, the fact that he lets you lay on him, let alone be near him when he’s so vulnerable speaks volumes of your bond.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Sesshomaru doesn’t really do best friends, if he’s interested in you, he’ll make it known when he feels is most appropriate but otherwise you’re likely in his mind at least a subordinate or acquaintance at most.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As stated before, Sesshomaru is a secret cuddler, even more surprising is the fact that he’s good at it. Sesshomaru’s cuddles are warm and fluffy and his arm wrapped tight around your waist makes you feel safe and secure. When he’s cuddling you, he’ll also bury his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder, to him this is where your scent is strongest and he loves to be reminded of it as the rest of your scent slowly blends into his.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settling down for Sesshomaru is kind of a weird term, it takes a lot of explaining and even then he’s still confused. When you ask him about it though, he informs you that you’re more than welcome to stay at his castle, but part of his duty is patrolling his land. He can’t settle down but he swears to you that you’ll never want for anything so long as you allow him to stand by your side.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

To be honest, Sesshomaru would probably just drop you off at the nearest human settlement/demon settlement (if it’s a really bad breakup he’ll just leave you to fend for yourself). If Rin is particularly attached to you, he may feel bad internally but in his mind, she’ll have to understand that the two of you just weren’t meant to last.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sesshomaru is kind of already engaged to you once you accept his courting offer. While he won’t be pushy about it, he does want to marry you as soon as possible. The moment you agree to marry him is the happiest day of his long life, and the whole affair is a week long festivity followed by a month long honeymoon.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sesshomaru is by no means gentle. Maybe if pushed to the brink of desperation to where your life was in danger, he’d crack just a little bit, the aftermath of which he’d make some excuse to always be holding or carrying you. Overall though, he’s not really gentle but he doesn’t need to be, he more than makes up for it because he treats you like you’re a gift from the heavens and a grace to all living things.

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn’t initiate hugs, ever. He lets Rin hug him and you but that’s about it. If anyone else tried to hug him, he’d cut their arms off and if anyone aside from Jaken or Ah-Un saw him receiving a hug they’d better start running.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Like with settling down, it takes some convincing and a lot of explanation on your part for him to understand how three words convey to you the depth of his devotion. The way he says ‘i love you’ isn’t through words (although he eventually does say so to make you happy) it’s through the way his gaze melts just a little bit when he sees you, it’s in the smile he gives no one but you, it’s in the way he’s willing to give up everything, just for you.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

When Sesshomaru gets jealous, it’s actually kind of serious. He doesn’t get jealous as he has no need to but seeing how Mukotsu stole you away from him and hearing how one of the thunder brothers tried to marry you made his blood boil with rage. If he hadn’t already disposed of Mukotsu he’d have made him die a slow death by Sesshomaru’s poison. Also, the fact that Inuyasha killed the thunder brothers is one of the few things he doesn’t begrudge his brother for.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sesshomaru’s kisses are rough and demanding, even when he’s trying to be soft with you. Something in his nature that wants to assert dominance even in the tamest expressions of love. It’s not like you mind though, his kisses always leave you breathless and wanting more.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

As evidenced by Rin (and kind of Kohaku), Sesshomaru is really good with kids. He’s just firm and uncaring enough to keep kids in line while still letting them play and explore. And deep, deep, deep down, he enjoys kids because of the almost naive outlook they have on the world, but he’d never admit that.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Sesshomaru are really nice and pleasant...until you have to pee. At which point it becomes an almost wrestling contest against a clingy cuddly demon who still wants to be pressed against his mate until time forces you both to wake up. It doesn’t help either that you’re likely sore from the night before.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

The SFW version of a night with Sesshomaru usually consists of you telling Rin (and a bitter Jaken) stories around the fire. Rin will probably help you put your hair up before you go to sleep and when the little ball of energy finally collapses, you tuck her in and kiss her forehead. Sesshomaru in the meanwhile, would watch all of this from a distance, his superior senses negating any need to be close anyways; plus he prefers to watch over all of you from afar before sneaking under the covers next to you while you’re asleep.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Sesshomaru doesn’t necessarily mean to shut you out he just reveals information on a need to know basis. In addition to that, most of his thoughts are carefully revealed through small subconscious reactions or expressions that take you a while to even pick up on, much less interpret. Eventually though, he does become open with you, you become the only person in the world that he trusts with the full breadth of his secrets and vulnerability.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s a 50/50 split. He can be patient when he wants to, but sometimes people are moving too slow for his liking and he starts to feel his hand twitch with the urge to use his claws. To get him angry to the point of it being visible on his face or even to the point that he shifts into his demon form is something few (namely Inuyasha and Kagome) are capable of. With you though, he does get a little impatient, especially at the beginning when you didn’t understand his grunting, but never fully enraged to the point of transforming.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sesshomaru remembers things about you like your scent, what makes you happy, what makes you mad, etc., all very basic information for him. He doesn’t really bother to remember things like anniversaries or birthdays just for the simple fact that his concept of time is completely different to yours. He doesn’t see the point in celebrating anniversaries (he manages by noticing the changes in your scent when yalls anniversary is approaching) and he finds it amusing that you celebrate his birthday, he hates celebrating yours though because it just reminds him that you’re human and each year is closer and closer to an eternity he’ll have to inevitably spend without you.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Sesshomaru’s  favorite moment in your relationship was when Rin accidently likened you to a parental figure one day. You managed to keep it together, but the moment she got distracted you turned to him and just sobbed into the fluff of his tail. The memory still makes him laugh but you swore him to secrecy, and he fears ever so slightly what you’d do if he broke that vow.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Sesshomaru does all the physical protection in your relationship. He can sense danger better even when far away and has skills and senses that you really can’t compare to. Although, Sesshomaru never sees you as inferior to him, as long as you rub his head and shoo away Kagome whenever she tries to be too sisterly with him, he’s all good.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As mentioned earlier, Sesshomaru, while he doesn’t care for anniversaries, definitely makes a big event out of showing his love to you. Although the two of you aren’t dating, you’re courting (or married), he still manages to make you feel like the most beautiful person on Earth when he takes you out. If your date isn’t a private personal affair, he’s making a big show of it. Everyone in the land will know that you are his and that you are incredible in every way (basically multiple feasts/parties held in your honor).

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

A bad habit of Sesshomaru’s is his impatience. He can be patient, but it’s mostly a façade, one in place to maintain his cool, unbothered persona. Truth is, many things bother him and he tends to just bottle it up and let it build until it boils over. Now, he may snap at you, but it’s most likely that he’ll walk away to go hack at a tree and not speak to you for a while. This leads to his second bad habit, his aloofness. While Sesshomaru is always aloof, it’s not usually a bad thing. But if he gets into one of his moods and you push and push and push, it will cause an argument.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Sesshomaru isn’t concerned with his looks, he always looks flawless. 

W: Worry (changed bcus I don’t like how the original frames relationships)

Sesshomaru does worry about you a lot. He tries not to say anything or let it bother him but it seems like every second he’s reminded of your human fragility. One day for trip over a tree root, the next you poke your finger sewing Rin’s clothes, and just one after another until your damned birthday comes around again and he’s reminded of the fact that you’ll get old much faster than he will. Needless to say, he worries about you a lot.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

He has some previous relationship experience, mostly from matches his mom set up or random hookups. You’re most likely his first and only serious relationship.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

He thinks people who seek to gain power/get ahead through frivolous means to be some of the most distasteful scum of the Earth. Aside from that he doesn’t really dislike anyone, aside from humans, or half-demons, or other demons, or anyone weaker than him, or... we could be here all day, but he pretty much only likes you, Ah-Un, Rin, Kohaku, and sometimes Jaken

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Sesshomaru has never really had to sleep in a bed proper before you so he can just kinda fall asleep anywhere and be perfectly fine. His other skills include sleeping while standing and sleeping with his eyes open.

[werewolf-witchboy]

Cat Boys Bakugou X Midoriya X Todoroki X Human Reader

You being the caretaker of 3 rowdy cat boys

✨{gender neutral reader}✨

WARNINGS: polyamory and hybrids, but it stays sfw

💚 Hybrids can usually take care of themselves, not all need caretakers, but these three cat boys would be a mess without you there to keep them all in check.

💛 The three of them love each other just as much as they all love you, but without your guidance, they can get into tons of trouble.

❤ Izuku is an adorable cuddly kitty.

-He requires a ton of attention, and gentle head pats.

-His ears and tail are the same shade of green as his hair. They're slick and smooth, and his fur is well kept.

💚 Shoto is a more quiet cat, who wont admit that he craves affection more than he leads on.

-Shoto will casually sit next to you while you're cuddling Izuku, and you'll get the hint that he wants cuddles too. So you'll pull him towards you, so that you can pet his head and ears.

-Todoroki's ears are two different colos: a red ear on the red side of his hair, and a white ear on the white side of his hair. His tail is all white though, and it's a bit puffed at the end.

💛 Katsuki especially loves ear scratches, but very much like Shoto, he pretends not to. Only Bakugou will verbally tell you that he doesn't want ear scratches, but then proceed to purr and become putty in your lap as soon as you start scratching him.

-His ears are the same shade of blonde as his hair, and they're extremely fluffy, so they sometimes blend into his hair. His tail is the same color, and it's also super fluffy.

-Despite how poofy his tail is, his fur isn't matted. He's a very well groomed cat boi, and gets all embarrassed when you compliment him about it.

-Baku looks very soft and pet-able, but he will bite anyone who dares try and touch him...except you of course.

❤ Izuku purrs the easiest. He gets super shy when he starts to purr, but he won't try to hold it back when he likes something.

-He'll even purr if you're cuddled up next to him and not doing anything.

💚 It's not hard to make Shoto purr, but it still doesn't happen that often.

-It has to be one of those rare times, where you might come home late and all 3 of them are super eager and want to cling to you. He'll start purring because he missed you.

-Or if he's half asleep and he'll let you pet him. During those times, he's always in such a haze that he'll subconsciously start purring, and you've gotta be careful not to wake him or else he'll get really embarrassed about being so shamelessly wrapped around your finger.

💛 Katsuki is actually extremely easy to make purr...even if he denies it.

-Like I said previously, all you gotta do is scratch his floofy ears, and he won't even try to fight back...but he'll pretend like it never happened a few minutes later lol.

💚 There's no telling what the three of them do when you're not home, but a lot of times the house is a mess, or all three of them are passed out on the sofa together.

❤ Due to their more animal side, they like to give you random gifts. It's a common thing for cat hybrids to do when they want to randomly show how much they admire their owner/caretaker.

-These gifts will be things that they found and thought were cool. Or things they saw that made them think of you.

-The types of things that cats like to leave on your front porch.

-I.e. pinecones, flowers they've pulled up from the yard, cool rocks.

-Bakugou used to bring you small dead animals like birds or squirrels, but you had to gently tell him not to do that anymore, without making him think that you dislike his "gift."

💛 You never like to see them sad or angry, their ears fall flat against their heads and their tails droop. It breaks your heart.

❤ Whenever something excites a cat hybrid, it's common for them to let out a cute smol lil chirp of excitement.

-Izuku does this a lot, but Shoto and Katsuki don't really do it at all.

-Well...Shoto actually does do it semi-often, he just tries to hide it. If he knows he's getting rather excited, he'll cover his mouth shyly. His wagging tail and perked ears will give away his excitement anyway.

-You've heard Katsuki let a chirp slip out by accident. He threatened you not to tell the other two. It's an empty threat of course, but you'd never purposely embarrass him.

💚 Sometimes Kirishima will bring over his cat boys, Tamaki and Kaminari. All of you hang out together, you and Kiri get to watch your cute cat boys do cat boi shit together.

[delimeful]

neither calm nor quiet

BTHB: Trapped In A Net

warnings: miscommunication, past familial and domestic abuse mentions, injury, violence, terrible decision making skills

-

When Virgil finally decided to brave shallower waters, it had already been nearly half a moon cycle since Logan had vanished.

He’d made excuses at first, telling himself that the dread he felt was just his normal brand of overwrought paranoia. For the first few days, he was half-convinced that his curiosity-prone friend would appear at any moment, probably lugging some sort of stray litter or ‘interesting human artifact’ along with him to explain why he’d been late.

Things would be normal again. Virgil would find some rocks for them to sun on and Logan would ramble on about the potential uses of his find, and maybe Virgil would teasingly suggest some outlandish way the trash was secretly a violent human weapon, just to hear Logan thoroughly refute it.

After another three days passed with no sign of the other selkie, Virgil was forced to let that fantasy fade. Logan had never been this late before, not even that time he’d managed to carry an entire minifridge along with him for Virgil to identify.

Something had to have happened to him.

He’d spent the next week scouring the currents for any sign of his missing friend, even approaching other pods and asking around, requesting that they keep an eye out for any signs of Logan. He didn’t expect much from that; the two of them didn’t socialize with other selkies often enough to make any friends, and their two-person pod was too small to spare any food during winter, so there was nothing for the other pods to gain by helping them.

Virgil knew better than most how selfish pod politics could be.

Every few days, he would return to their meeting spot and catch a few hours of sleep to keep himself from crashing, always naively hoping that Logan would be there when he woke. He never was.

In the end, he had to face what he’d already known from the beginning: either Logan was dead, or he’d gone onland and gotten himself bound by a human.

He didn’t want to believe Logan had decided to brave the human world even after Virgil’s many, many warnings against it, but believing the alternative was even worse. So, he steeled himself to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do again, and headed for the cold, rocky shores of the nearest human settlement.

Naturally, he spent so long swimming back and forth between different stretches of beach, trying to force himself to take those literal first steps, that he didn’t notice the woven fibers dancing in the water until he’d plowed right into them.

A fishing net, dyed skillfully to blend in with the water, and large enough that when he tried to twist out of it, he only became further entangled.

Panic set in, then, clouding his mind and leaving him thrashing ineffectively like a simple animal. He couldn’t help it-- he couldn’t breathe underwater in either form, had no gills to keep him steady as he was dragged along by the current. He couldn’t untangle himself while adrift, couldn’t find solid ground while tangled. He would drown.

Between one blink and the next, he found himself in open air, gritty sand pressed against his face. Waves crested gently around him, a sharp contrast to the headache pounding around in his skull.

He never thought he’d be relieved about blacking out and beaching himself, but then, he’d never been worried about drowning in his own element before.

Okay. There weren’t any humans around to see the stupid idiot seal stuck on the beach. This was still salvageable.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to bite through the netting with his incisors, and got a mouthful of sore gums for his trouble. The dyed fibers seemed to be woven around a base net of fishing wire, because of course they were. He let his head thunk back to the sandy ground, groaning at the new surge of pain the motion caused.

Sun-warmed saltwater continued to wash over his tail, and he blinked slowly, measuring his breaths. He could figure this out. He wouldn’t dry out. He just needed a moment to put himself back together. He could… He…

His eyelids grew heavy, and everything went dark.

-

Roman thought the guy was a pile of garbage at first, to be quite honest.

Not on purpose, of course! But, come on, when one sees a mound of mystery washed up on shore, it generally ends up being a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around half-rotted driftwood, not a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around beautiful strangers wearing expensive-looking fur coats!

His next thought, once he’d gotten closer, was that the beautiful stranger wearing the expensive-looking fur coat was dead, and that a body had washed up on his little strip of shoreline. Pallid skin, blue lips, and deep shadows under their eyes-- the beautiful stranger wasn’t exactly giving off an aura of vim and vigor.

He’d spent a few moments staring at his contact list, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do about a body. Should he call 911? … Should he call Remus?

Before he could make a decision either way, he finally picked up on the shallow rise and fall of the beautiful stranger’s chest, and realized that they were still alive! Potentially not for much longer, laying out in the cold all soggy like that, but Roman could work with mostly alive!

And so, he found himself here, carefully carrying the small but surprisingly dense stranger up to his home by the cliffs, and risking looking like a total serial killer doing it.

He couldn’t help but theorize as he walked. A beautiful stranger in expensive clothing, tangled in nets with what appeared to be a head wound… It read like an old unsolved case in a detective novel, where the mysterious stranger in question got in too deep with some dangerous people and ended up clubbed over the head and dumped into a river to tie up loose ends.

“Except you managed to survive, obviously,” Roman said to them, mostly to reassure himself. He really had to stop eavesdropping on Remus’s true crime podcasts. “And you made your way to me! Excellent choice, I’m great at nursing people back to health. Probably. I don’t have much practical experience, but, you know, I’ve read extensively about this exact thing. In romance novels. As one does.”

The beautiful and mysterious stranger continued to be unconscious. Roman was starting to feel grateful for it.

His house was empty, thankfully, since his brother had work to attend to today. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before pushing the door open and carrying the stranger inside, sighing with relief at the warm air.

“That’s got to feel much better, hm?”

He sat the stranger down in the foyer, removing his shoes to go grab some scissors from the kitchen.

“First order of business,” he announced in his best announcer voice, “getting all that netting off of you. While I’m sure you could rock fishnet leggings, fish nets on their own just don’t have the same je ne sais quoi, you know? Also, they look very uncomfortable. You’re great at staying still, so just keep that up.”

He carefully cut his way through the looser parts of netting, pulling it off piece by piece until all that was left were the abrasions where they’d formerly cut into skin. Roman had no idea how they’d even managed to get that tangled up, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It couldn’t have been pretty.

In the process of removing the net, however, he’d noticed another rather pressing matter.

Going by the flash of thigh he’d accidentally witnessed while shifting the net around, the stranger definitely wasn't wearing anything under that fur coat of theirs. Like, nothing.

(Exactly what kind of situation had the stranger been in before this?!)

Even so, leaving them in a sodden coat couldn’t be good for their constitution. Or his poor couch’s upholstery.

Roman spent a few moments puzzling the situation out before coming up with a brilliant solution. He retrieved the fluffy gold comforter from his bed and draped it over the stranger, covering their front half with it. Then, he carefully worked their arms out of the coat’s sleeves, very pointedly not focusing on the adorable freckled shoulders this operation revealed. Finally, he tugged the entire coat out from behind them, wincing at the slight furrow that appeared in their brow.

“Sorry, sorry, I know the cold floor can’t be comfortable…”

Soggy coat removed, he was free to continue bundling the rest of the comforter around the stranger’s back, therefore making it easy for him to pick them up in a neat little bundle of blanket and deposit them on the couch. No nudity awkwardness required!

Pleased with his solution, he draped a fluffy towel over the stranger’s head and carefully dried some of the dampness from their hair. Next, he wasted no time in stoking the fire higher in his hearth, sending waves of warmth into the room and making it so the stranger’s skin didn’t look quite so clammy.

Once he’d cleaned up the mess left in the foyer and grabbed the first aid kit from under his sink, he planted himself in a chair next to the couch, feeling ready to handle anything.

“Okay, Google. How do I treat a head wound?”

-

Virgil felt as though he’d woken to a nightmare.

He was in the wrong body, surrounded on all sides by heavy fabric and warm air, and his coat was missing. That list of facts alone was just about as bad as any night terror he’d had.

The humming was unusual, though.

A soft tune, occasionally broken up by a half-muttered lyric or two, carried through the air, voice completely at ease. His mother had never sung to him in front of others, and it sure as hell wasn’t his father.

He tried to remember where he’d been last. The back of his head stung… he’d ended up on a beach? The tide had been turning, from high to low… He must have dried out up there, changed into his less durable form. And now he was warm and dry.

He clenched his fists weakly and grit his teeth, knowing that a human had found him and stolen him away. Just like his mother. He’d come to find Logan and lost himself before ever even starting. Typical.

“Are you with us, Sleeping Beauty?” a bright voice asked.

The humming had broken off while he was absorbed in his thoughts, and now he could hear the shift and rustle of movement next to him. He opened his eyes, already aiming the coldest possible glare at his captor.

He was sort of surprised to find that the human sitting at his side wasn’t holding his coat. His father used to make a point of handling his mother’s coat at any opportunity. He’d liked to watch his mother stare at it, resting assured that so long as he held it in his possession, she could do him no harm.

This human was much younger than his father had been, probably around as old as Virgil was now. He had dark skin and soft eyes that reflected the firelight, and he was smiling hopefully at Virgil.

“Hello there! It’s excellent to see you looking a little more lively! I was starting to think about actually calling the hospital, heh.”

Wordlessly, Virgil slowly shifted to sit up, shoving the thick blanket out and shaking the cloth from his head. He looked down, confirming what he already knew. No coat. The human hadn’t even bothered to dress him up in human trappings to ‘make up’ for the absence.

“Ah, yeah... I sort of basically pulled you out of the ocean and what little you were wearing was completely soaked.” The human rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I figured it’d be less of an invasion of privacy to just let you get dressed yourself once you woke up?”

Oh, the human was worried about his privacy? What a joke.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, truly!” the human continued, oblivious to Virgil’s rising ire. He gave a mocking little bow, pretending to respect the one he’d abducted. “My sincerest apologies.”

He was done playing along with mind games like these. Better to let the human know where they stood right off the bat.

“I’m going to kill you,” Virgil promised, and then lunged for the human’s jugular.

To his genuine surprise, he actually made contact, hands clamping onto the junction between collar and throat. The human let out a high-pitched yelp as his chair toppled over, taking both of them with it.

Virgil landed knee-first on the human’s sternum, and paused to blink down at the wheezing stranger, who apparently had been so confident in the weakness of his victim that he hadn’t bothered to bind Virgil from harming him in advance.

Unless.

His grip loosened slightly, just in time for the human’s fist to catch him squarely in the mouth. He threw himself backwards, rolling with the force of the motion to get some distance and hunkering in a crouch. It had been too long since he’d been active in this form, his sense of balance was in shambles.

The human scrambled to his feet, and grabbed the back of the chair, eyes wild. He thrust it out between them like a barrier, as though it could prevent any more strangulation attempts.

“What is wrong with you?!” he shrieked, voice cracking as his gaze flickered back and forth between Virgil and some far off point. “I tenderly nursed you back to health, and your response is to try and murder me? Unfair! Cruel! Rude!”

“Where is my coat?” Virgil replied, voice hoarse and split lip stinging. A test, because humans were tricky and loved to lie.

“Your— your coat?” The human pulled up short, head tilting slightly in a bewildered manner. A convincing actor, if nothing else. “Is that what all this is about? I put it on the coat hanger to dry! I know better than to try and wash someone’s fancy fur coat without permission, yeesh.”

A low warning growl in the back of his throat, Virgil turned his gaze from the current threat and followed the gesture the human had made.

Sure enough, there it was. His freedom, draped on a peg in the open with all the rest of the human’s fabric outer layers like some common garment.

“Do you… want me to get it— eep!” The human lifted the chair back up in paltry defense as Virgil snarled at him. He rose up and crossed the distance to his pelt in five wobbly strides, before the human could try and return it to him and lock them both into a loveless marriage.

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as he quickly wrapped his second skin around him, that grounding weight settling back where it belonged. He still couldn’t shift back, not here, but the ocean was close enough to taste in the air.

The human was still huddled defensively by the fireplace, looking indignantly bewildered and not at all like he knew he’d just given up the perfect opportunity to control Virgil.

Which meant that-- barring some incredibly convoluted scheme-- he really had no idea. And Virgil had tried to strangle him, even if under false pretenses. He drew the edges of his pelt closer around him, rolling the beginnings of an apology around in his mind.

-

The mysterious stranger was still glaring at Roman like they were contemplating continuing to try and strangle him to death at any moment.

He’d brought a half-drowned stranger into his home and tenderly treated their injuries, and what had he received in return for his efforts? A murder attempt, which now that he thought about it was maybe an outcome he should have considered earlier. Remus would never let him live this down.

Assuming he lived long enough for his brother to give him shit about it, that was.

The stranger seemed to at least be a little calmer now that their reclaimed coat was thoroughly wrapped around them, rendering them more lump-shaped than person. Roman felt much more secure in glaring back, too.

He set his impromptu shield/chair down firmly on the floor. “I have no idea what your problem is, Gloomy B. Jones, but where I’m from, the response to someone saving you from dying of hypothermia is ‘thank you’, not a strangulation attempt!”

The murderglare intensified. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Yes,” Roman said, disbelieving, “because you were too busy being unconscious. On the beach. In 40-below temperatures!”

“That’s my problem, not yours,” the stranger responded snappishly.

Roman threw his hands in the air, but his impending frustrated rant was impeded by the sight of a stifled flinch running through the stranger. Feeling a stab of guilt, he lowered his arms slowly before continuing.

“It seems I made it my problem when I dragged your soggy self all the way to my house, so--”

“Great news for you, then: I’m leaving.” Baring their teeth in a distinctly unfriendly manner, the stranger turned to do just that.

“Hold it!” Roman called, alarmed. “You’re going into town like that?! People will think you’re a flasher!” Even his brother wouldn’t go out dressed in nothing but an oversized coat. ... Probably.

The stranger paused, squinting at him warily. Roman took it as a cue to continue.

“Look, clearly we got off on the wrong foot here. Several wrong feet. Let’s try again. I’m Roman Faroe, I work for the local newspaper, and you are…?”

“None of your business,” replied the stranger, with all the stubborn petulance of a toddler digging their heels in and refusing to move whilst smack dab in the middle of an overcrowded supermarket.

“Would you like me to call you ‘Almost-Corpse-I-Dragged-Off-The-Beach?’ Perhaps make up a thematic nickname or two for you? Because let me tell you, this is exactly how you get called--,”

“Hold on,” the stranger cut him off, a realization seeming to dawn on him, “did you say you worked for the news?”

“Yes, I mean, the newspaper not the news. Although I’m sure I’d make an excellent anchor,” Roman gestured to all of himself for effect, “my true passion lies in my carefully curated romantic advice column!”

“So, you get all the information in town,” continued the stranger, who had a strange glint in their eye.

“I mean, if you want to be a nerd about it.”

“How about this.” The stranger stepped forward, straightening out of their defensive slouch for the explicit purpose of being just tall enough to loom over Roman. “You want to know my name? I’ll tell you, if you help me track down something important that I lost.”

An investigative quest for a mysterious MacGuffin? Roman swallowed, feeling his heart flutter wildly with what felt less like intimidation and more like excitement. He could totally keep his cool, he just had to open his mouth and say something suave.

“I also want to know your origin story,” he opened his mouth and babbled instead.

The stranger narrowed their eyes for a moment, and Roman belatedly remembered the near-strangulation. Perhaps he shouldn't be agitating a femme fatale type, what with all the emphasis on the fatale.

To his surprise, it only took a moment before they capitulated, sticking a hand out. “Fine. After my thing gets done.”

Roman shook gladly, trying not to shiver at the cool touch. Had they checked to make sure the stranger wasn’t hypothermic yet? “It’s a deal, then.”

“Great.” They twisted on their heel, stalking to the door. “Let’s get this over with, already.”

“Hold on there, Surly Temple.” Roman called, hand on his hip. “I hate to break it to you, but if you go into town mostly naked, the only news we’ll be hearing about will be your immediate arrest.”

The stranger glanced down at his attire, and then released the door handle with a low sigh. “... Pants first?”

“Pants first.”

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Presents and Kisses

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,858

Summary: It’s reader’s birthday and Reid has some surprises up his sleeve. Dedicated to the lovely @saviorsong​. Happy Birthday! 

The café was a small, single room operation so sound from both the dining area and the kitchen traveled throughout. And everyone heard when your boyfriend came out of the bathroom, throwing the door open with such force that a bang rang out from where it hit the wall.

The poor barista almost dropped a drink they were making out of surprise.

“Babe, that was the biggest shit I’ve taken this month,” Reid practically shouted as he made his way back to the table.

You didn’t bother to acknowledge that particular comment and kept your attention on Tyler who had also tagged along with you guys. It was better to not entertain poop talk seeing as how you were in public.

“Babe! Did you hear what I said?”

“I think everyone did,” you replied pointedly. He dropped into his chair, hands clutching at his stomach.

You continued chatting with Tyler about a class you were taking and Reid still kept fidgeting and groaning. He was normally dramatic but he was really hamming it up.

You turned to him with a raised brow. That was all it took for him to increase his complaining.

“I think it was the food. It’s gotta be food poisoning, I feel so sick.”

“But we ate from the same plate.”

A glance at the table showed a shared plate that had long been eaten with not a drop of sauce left on the it after you both had all but cleaned the dish. If he actually had food poisoning, shouldn’t you be feeling it too? Your stomach felt perfectly fine, if not satisfied.

“Everyone reacts differently to these things, you know.”

Tyler nodded seriously, corroborating Reid’s claim. Those two were thicker than thieves, always ready to back each other up.

“No telling how bad this could get. I’m gonna head home but you should stay, Ty can hang out with you,” he said.

“Really?” Your tone was colored with incredulously. “Today of all days?”

He completely ignored that and bent down for a kiss. You were extremely tempted to turn away but ended up giving in. Reid may be an idiot, but he was your idiot. Keeping up with the sick-as-a-dog routine, he gingerly hobbled out of the café.

And since he was your idiot, you knew something was definitely up. You didn’t claim to be the smartest person around but Reid wasn’t exactly subtle.

Immediately, your attention turned towards Tyler. If one was plotting, then the other would know.

The brunette raised his hands as if to keep things peaceful. “Okay, okay. Don’t be upset.”

“It’s my birthday and my man just ran out under suspicious circumstances. I have every right to be annoyed.”

“Exactly! You’re the reason why he left!” He paused for an awkward second. “Wow. That came out totally wrong. What I mean is that he’s setting up something nice for you.”

“He is?” you asked suddenly touched.

Reid was a romantic sort. Maybe not always so smooth about it, but a romantic nonetheless. And he did do things for you often, even if a good number of things were in an attempt to apologize for something stupid he did, but he had never done a birthday surprise.

Well, not one where he had kept it a surprise for this long. Normally he couldn’t keep quiet about his plans so you were a bit impressed that you hadn’t noticed until his terrible acting just then.

Tyler nodded again, this time in excitement. “Yep. He needs a few hours to get it ready though…we can either stay here or walk around. Your birthday, your choice.”

His methods may be, well, unconventional, but your heart beat a little faster knowing he was planning something. Your mind wandered, thinking up various possibilities. Two hours couldn’t go by fast enough.

***

It ended up being close to six o’clock before you returned home.

You closed the door gently and toed your shoes off. The quietness seemed that much thicker with anticipation weighing heavily.

A trail of rose petals wound around the living room and trailed down the hallway, presumably to the bedroom, but you got distracted by a tantalizing aroma. 

You followed that into the kitchen instead and found a skillet filled with something delicious. Other bowls with other fantastic side dishes were arranged randomly around it on the countertops.  

And then you noticed the cake. Unlike the others, the cake was displayed on the table, a package of candles lying next to it. You walked closer to get a better view and couldn’t the grin hat spread across your face.

Clearly, he had made the cake himself. Not that that was off-putting to you in any way. It was really quite cute.

He had made a small two-layer cake which in of itself didn’t look too bad. The sides were not traditionally frosted so, the parts that were visible, you could see that the shape and the softness looked about right. Kind of. 

In lieu of normal frosting, he had attempted to coat them with a crumb frosting of some sort. Despite his best effort, the crumbs didn’t hadn’t spread evenly with some parts having barely any and others having too much.

It looked like he also had issues with the frosting on top. You guessed that he had tried to apply it while the cake was still warm because it was thinner than it should have been, almost glaze-like. Some had even started to leak over the sides before it was cool enough to harden up again.

Even with flaws, it was still the sweetest, frumpiest birthday cake you could ever remember someone making for you.

You stuck out a finger trying to taste the crumb coat when you felt a sharp smack to your ass.

“Oww!” Rubbing it, you saw Reid standing behind you with a towel in his hand. “Did you really just spank me with a towel?”

“It’s not time for cake yet,” he said. He was shirtless, tattoos on display, baggy cargo pants riding low on his hips. There was a hint of tiredness in his eyes but it was mostly irritation. “This part was for last. You were supposed to follow the roses first.”

Ah. He was irritated that you messed up the plan. But you were so excited to see what else he had in store that you didn’t answer back with a sharp quip of your own. “Then lead the way.”

With a sigh, he put his hands on your shoulders and walked you out of the kitchen. His grip was gentle though so you knew he wasn’t seriously frustrated with you.

The path of rose petals came back into view and you realized they were from a real flower and not plastic. A warm feeling spread through you and it only grew the closer the closer the path drew you to the bedroom. Reid stayed just behind you the whole way, your gentle guide.

“The flowers are beautiful, Reid.”

“I know. And a normal person would’ve followed them from the start.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. “The food all looked really good though. Three Michelin stars across the board.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the door, would ya?”

You pushed the door with your fingers, thoughts racing. What were you going to find? That fancy stationary set you’d been eyeing online? A fluffy, tail-wagging puppy? A chest of kinky toys?

With Reid it could any one of the three. Maybe even all three.

Tons of balloons were inflated and rolling around the floor, so much so that you had to kick a few out of the way to be able to step in. Even a birthday banner hung over the bed when he had thumbtacked it into the wall.

But the gift was unmistakable.

The large woven basket was sitting on the dresser, fibers dyed your favorite color was hard to miss.

Then came the stuff that was practically overflowing from said basket. You rummaged through it like a old woman at a yard sale, pulling out something new with every handful.

Jewelry. A soft blanket. Cans of your favorite type of drink. Hand painted ceramics. Some hard cover additions you’d been meaning to add to your personal library. New head phones. Dozens of origami creatures. A tee from your favorite team. Coffee mugs and several blends of beans. Hand-held tools  to replace your old ones with. And not only a stationary set but a wax letter stamp seal as well.

And everything from the basket to the last gift followed the same theme: it was all in your favorite color.

You jumped into his arms and he caught you. “I’m—this is…this is…”

“What?” he said, his breath tickling your ear and fingers gripping your thighs tightly. “Impressive? Inspiring? The best goddamn gift you’ve ever seen?”

“Touching,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but you could sense the soft expression on his face.

“How did you even manage to find some of this stuff in this color?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you…”

He went on explaining how he started with the just the stationary (you were right and he had noticed you looking at it) in your favorite color.

Then he added the headphones, also in your favorite color.

Then he’d painted the ceramic pieces himself.  

Eventually thinking up even more potential presents to get, he’d come up with the idea to do everything in that color. The tools were the hardest but he was very proud that he’d been able to pull it off with the help of a custom order from a local business.

“This is super touching. Thanks for putting in this much thought and effort,” you said finally lifting your head up to give him a kiss.

It was meant to be a quick peck but Reid’s lips followed yours when you tried to pull back, turning it into something more passionate. He even managed to lick his way into your mouth before you finally parted, panting for air.

“Mmm,” he breathed, lips back on yours. “You’re eager to get to the next event.”

You made a confused sound in your throat which he swallowed. One of his hands traveled up your leg and over your hip to come to a rest on your lower back. He turned you and that’s when you noticed the bed.

The comforter was already pulled slightly down and more rose petals were scattered all around. He laid you down on the mattress and prowled up your body. The petals were even more fragrant now that you were closer to them.

“What’s the next event?” you asked coyly although it wasn’t hard to guess.

“One kiss for every year you’ve been alive,” he said with a cocked smile. “It was either that many kisses or that many orgasms—I figured all those orgasms might be too much for you though.”

You bit his bottom lip and snuck your fingers under the waistband of his cargo pants suggestively. “How about both?”

He watched in rapture as you removed your shirt, eyes glued to your chest.  

“Anything for you, babe. Happy Birthday.”

_______________

Yay! Thanks for reading. I hope this was alright. 

In my mind, Reid is the type of romantic to make you things, hence the food, origami, and ceramics. But sensual time will also be included just because. 

Honestly, he probably heard what Caleb did for his s/o and, in typical competitive fashion, decided he could do better. He roped in Tyler to keep reader distracted and spent a few hours cooking, decorating, and assembling the massive personalized gift basket. 

They likely did reach fulfill the birthday kiss count but how many orgasms they managed to achieve is up to your imagination. 

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Running

A/N: Here is my entry for @obsessedwithrandomthings​ 500 followers celebrations! Congratulations Dee! You more than deserve this! The prompt I used is in the summary, but I have also bolded it in the text. Thank you so much for letting me take part! The gif doesn't really match the theme of the fic but I searched ‘running’ and it was the best of them lol. I’m also less than 10 followers away from 800 so this is exciting!! As always, I hope you all enjoy!!

Summary: “Run away with me,” You plead, hands framing his face, “It’ll be worth it.”

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, mentions of death and anxiety, vomit - there is a lot of worry and anxiety in this, so please don't read if you don’t like, but I have tried to wrap it up in a fluffy fashion!!

Word count: 1.5k

Your stomach had been a ball of anxiety all night. Nothing anyone said could dampen the fear that was crawling its way up your throat. Something was going to happen tonight, and it wasn’t going to be good.

Your fears are proven correct when Sirius lands in the hallway, holding up a drastically bleeding Remus. His blood stains his white button-up shirt and drips steadily onto the floor.

The scream is caught in your throat. You look wildly at Sirius, demanding an explanation. Sirius explains quickly; they had been tailed as they were following their own targets. Remus threw himself in front of Sirius to protect him from the Sectumsempra curse.

“I couldn’t take him to St. Mungo’s. I don’t know who works there, but I’ve already called for a Healer I can trust,” Sirius shudders, murmuring the levitation charm straight after, following Remus up the stairs in a hurry.

His blood stains the carpet in the hall and would stain the stairs too, but it was the last thing on your mind as you hurry behind Sirius. Remus is laid on the bed; his face contorted in pain, barely conscious but still aware of the pain lancing through his body.

Wordlessly, you conjure clean towels from the airing cupboard, holding them to the cuts across Remus’ chest and arms. Sirius takes a towel from you, holding it to the wound across his stomach.

The Healer arrives in what seems like hours, but it could have been minutes. Your eyes do not leave Remus as you press towel after towel to his cuts, trying to stem the bleeding despite knowing that nothing but magic would help.

Sirius’ hand on your shoulder has you stepping away from the love of your life, letting the Healer complete his work. Your hands are covered in Remus’ blood; your clothes too, are ruined. You barely make it to the toilet to empty your stomach. Sirius is there, holding your hair back, muttering comforting words to you. You press your forehead to the cold porcelain, trying to take everything in now that the adrenaline was leaving your body, but your brain couldn’t comprehend what you had just been witness to.

You force yourself to stand; pushing down the fresh wave of nausea as you make your way back into the bedroom, to Remus. He lies on the bed; his body entirely healed, but deeply asleep.

“I’ve had to give him a strong sleeping draught. He lost a lot of blood and whilst I was able to heal the injuries, there’s going to be some damage internally. He needs to be asleep for it to heal which, with his lycanthropy, will heal in a few days.”

“How long will he be asleep then?” Sirius asks, learning the information to relay to you later. He knows that at the moment, you would not be listening to word being said. That all of your attention would be focused on the man on your bed, asleep and no longer in any pain.

You refuse to leave his side. They all try to coax you from your room. Sirius promises he’ll stay with him so you can shower, but you refuse. Harry tries his hardest to get you to come downstairs to eat, but it doesn’t work. Instead, he leaves for a moment before coming back with a plate of food. You nibble at it, but the nausea soon returns.

The first day blends seamlessly into the second and there’s no change in Remus. He lies on his side of the bed in clean clothes and clean sheets, sleeping peacefully. You admire him from your spot in the armchair across the room; this would the first time in a long time that Remus had managed to get a solid block of sleep without being interrupted by the order or the lunar cycle. You think it every time but in sleep, you see the Marauder in him. You see the teenager you had fallen in love with one afternoon by the Black Lake. The teenager who had stuttered through asking you out but soon found his confidence once you had accepted.

For years it had been you and Remus. The only survivors of the first wizarding war, Remus claimed though it pained him to say it.

On the third day of your vigil beside the bed, Remus groans before blinking against the bright light of the morning. You’re out of your seat in an instant, lurching to the end of the bed with tears in your eyes. “Remus, you’re awake! How do you feel? Do you need anything?”

“I’m sore, but I’m okay. I don’t need anything right now.”

You sag in relief, “I am so happy you’re awake, dear. That was the most terrifying time of my life.”

“Even more than the time you saw me as a wolf?” Remus tries to joke, but he winces instead.

“This isn’t a joking situation, Remus!” You cry, “Do you remember what happened?”

“I remember being followed and then jumping in front of Sirius and then blinding pain. I passed out then, I think.”

Your hands grip the bedpost at the end of the bed, “Sirius brought you back here and we called in a Healer. You were hit with the Sectumsempra curse and your blood was everywhere, and I couldn’t stop it-” You break off suddenly; your words getting caught in your throat.

The sudden urge to run overwhelms you. Your eyes dart around the room – to the suitcases, to the wardrobes. A plan begins to form in your head; a few more days healing was all that Remus would require before he’s stable enough to apparate. You know of a place where you couldn’t be traced where he could spend a few weeks or so recuperating before you run for real.

The desire to leave it all behind takes over. In that moment, the only thing you could ever want is a longer life with the man lying on the bed in front of you. If this war continued, how long would you have? Optimism in this situation is vitally important but as your eyes return to Remus, running over the war-weary, pale face of the love of your life, all you want is to go.

To go and never look back.

“Run away with me,” You start, rushing to his side, hands framing his face, “It’ll be worth it.”

“Where would we go?” He asks, his eyes bright with possibilities.

“Anywhere – the country, the coast, abroad. Run away with me Remus, before the war swallows us whole.”

“What about the Order? Darling, we can’t leave them.”

“Fuck that, Remus. Look at yourself! You can barely move.” You stand, gesturing to the four walls in which you stand, “These last few days have been my own personal hell; I didn’t know if you were going to wake up. For the first time in my life, I have had to face a possibility of a life without you and I won’t do it. Not again. Run away with me, Remus.” Your eyes are wild as you plead to him, beg to him to consider doing this.

Remus’ eyes search yours, looking for what, you don’t know. You know the minute you’ve lost the battle, and you would be remaining where you are. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask brokenly.

“You won’t leave Harry, love. You’re his godmother – you won’t let him face this war without you, you simply won’t.”

The tears that were previously lining your eyes now overflow onto your cheeks. You look at Remus through watery eyes, not bothering to stem the flow. “You can’t do this to me again, Remus. I will not live in a world that does not have you in it, do you understand?”

“I understand, darling.” Remus holds his hand out for you. You stumble over to him, desperate to touch some part of him. With a light tug, he has you sat next to him on the bed you share. “I’m here now,” he whispers, “I don’t plan on leaving for a long, long time.”

You sniffle, “Good. I didn’t like the look of my life without you.”

“What have I missed then; in the three days I’ve been asleep?”

You look at him, somewhat sheepishly, “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t left this room.”

Remus frowns at you. “Darling, please tell me you’ve eaten and taken care of yourself.”

“I’ve eaten a little, but I didn’t want to leave you and I didn’t want to let anyone look after you.”

“I really did scare you, didn’t I?”

You nod, “Beyond scare, Remus. I couldn’t think straight, I don’t think I’ve thought a coherent thought since Sirius appeared with you in the hall.”

He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your hand. “I am so sorry, my love.”

“You don’t need to apologise, Remus. You did nothing wrong.”

“Nevertheless. I am sorry, I didn’t think before throwing myself in front of Sirius, and I should have.”

“You were protecting your best friend.”

Remus shrugs, but winces at the stiffness in his joints, “I will not leave you like that again. The minute I’m out of this bed I’m speaking to Dumbledore, demanding lighter missions. I’m too fond of this life to leave it prematurely.”

Tears start anew as you lie next to the man you so dearly love. Gripping his hand in both of yours, you press it your chest, “I’m too fond of you to let you leave it prematurely.”

**************

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @kalimagik​ @summer-writes​ @lupins-sweater​ @slytherinprincess03​ @mischiefsemimanaged​ @soleil-amaryllis​ @bforbroadway​ @masterofthedarkness​ @chaotic-fae-queen​ @peachesandpinks​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @siriusly-addicted-to-writing​ @firewhisky-kisses​ @deafgirltingz​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @harrypotter289​ @sprvpti​ @accio-rogers​ @potterverseimagine​ @figlia--della--luna​ @angelinathebook​ @dreamer821​

[angstyaches]

Alone (Hitori de)

So I feel like I’ve been teasing this OC’s introduction for... a long time?! So finally, here’s your invitation to Ryan Aldridge’s 200th birthday party! 

CW: nausea, emeto, loneliness, jetlag, character overwhelmed by language

He was swaying a little – hopefully not noticeably – as he passed countless faces. Countless strangers who, no matter their differences, were all dressed in black and white attire; monochromatic dresses and stiff-looking suits were the order of the evening. All blending in, all the same.

However, most other people at the party weren’t hiding sweat patches under their suit jackets, or struggling to stand upright because of stomach cramps and dizzy spells.

Conversations blew past, the onslaught of the known, yet vaguely unfamiliar, language making everything worse. His hands were shaking, and the loneliness felt like an alien thing attached to his stomach lining, niggling away with the possibility that he wouldn’t find who he was looking for.

He lingered by the refreshments table, resigning to just grabbing a cup of water. There was a selection of food – as well as goblets of blood and various entrails for the strictly carnivorous guests – on display in giant, elaborate glass bowls, anyone’s for the taking. He averted his eyes from all of this; the thought of putting anything in his stomach right then made him want to retch, despite the fact that his last meal had been on a plane ten hours ago.

It could have been the three plane rides that were making him feel so horrible, or maybe it was the fact that his eating and sleeping schedule had been shaken around relentlessly over the past three days. Or was it two days? He couldn’t even get it straight in his head.

The cold water settled in his belly for all of a couple of seconds before he felt it gush back towards his throat. He hiccupped deeply, pressing a hand to his mouth just in case anything had made it all the way up. He glanced around, noting that none of the nearby guests had turned to look at him.

Feet swirled in and out of his vision as he stared at the floor and shuffled away from the table. Arms brushed against his and made his clammy skin crawl. His agoraphobia didn’t usually affect him as badly as his claustrophobia, but right now it felt like the two were ganging up on him.

He needed to get out of there.

He weaved through to the other end of the hall, mumbling “sumimasen, excuse me, I’m sorryyyy” all the while. He began to feel off-balance, like he’d accidentally put his tight dress shoes on the wrong feet. He somehow made it out of the function room and through the foyer, stumbling out into the night.

At the top of the glossy marble staircase that overlooked the mansion’s car park, he loosened his tie and undid his top button. His shirt felt soaked with sweat under his jacket, his hair curled and sticking to the back of his neck. Now that he was away from the party, he could hear his own stomach groaning in discomfort.

He sat down at the side of the top stair, leaning his head against a cool marble column. He was tempted to close his eyes for a bit, but he was afraid his jetlagged brain would put him straight to sleep if he did. He couldn’t imagine any of the Elder and elitists would be too pleased to find an unconscious Japanese boy slumped at the top of the stairs of this very fancy mansion. He could just imagine the scolding phone call he would get from Yumi if she caught wind of it all.

The cold air relaxed him for a few minutes, before he heard footsteps coming up from the car park of the mansion, as well as low voices speaking to each other. He lowered his head a little further, curling an arm around the side of his face to hide from whoever was coming, waiting with the other hand pressed into his gut for his moment of solitude to be restored.

Not that he wanted to be alone, exactly.

“- hear what she said?”

“I heard her, boo, but I still don’t think she meant it the way you’re taking it.”

“Yeah, well, I think you give them too much slack, honestly.”

He lifted his head to see the two figures who had just walked past him towards the entrance to the mansion. One of them was a tall, dark guy whose suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, revealing suspenders worn over a grey-and-white pinstripe shirt.

The other was a lot shorter, paler, and had vibrant blue-green hair. His suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt was silky and patterned like a chessboard.

His heart grew lighter in his chest and tears sprang to his eyes. A brand-new wave of energy struck his bloodstream and his nervous system, and if he’d been in fox form at that moment, he’d have wagged his fluffy white tail.

His legs carried him back inside without much input from his thoughts, and he couldn’t stop smiling to himself. Even the pain in his belly faded to the back of his mind; even the unsteadiness left him alone. The crowd didn’t freak him out as much as he joined it this time; because in the sea of black and white attire, he could see that mint-coloured hair.

It had been a silvery shade of lilac when he had last seen it, and it was about thirty feet away, buried in the crowd.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fee-kun!”

Heads shot up from drinks and conversations, but none of them were the right heads. Kazu began to giggle as more and more attention was drawn towards him, and it only made him more and more excited, more and more eager to –

“FEE-KUN!”

He looked this time, blinking in disbelief.

“Kaz?” Felix asked, eyes widening as started to push his way back through the crowd.

Kazu allowed himself a shaky smile.

“Kaz?” Felix squeaked, starting to run a bit now.

Kazu managed to brace himself in time for Felix to throw his weight towards him. He scooped the smaller boy into a hug; there was so much adrenaline in his blood that he mustered the strength to lift Felix up off the ground and spin him slightly before setting him back down.

Just like he used to.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s really you,” Felix gushed, clinging to Kazu for dear life. Kazu was a little wary of the pressure this was putting on his stomach, but he still laughed and continued to squeeze his friend back.

He also noticed the disgruntled looks that some of the older guests were throwing their way, but if Felix didn’t care, then Kazu certainly didn’t.

“Hisashiburi, ne?”

“Hisashiburi.” Felix’s voice cracked a bit as he nodded violently, his chin knocking against Kazu’s collarbone. It certainly had been a long time. Six years, to be exact. Felix still looked like the same twenty-three year old Kazu had known back then, whereas Kazu had gone from nineteen to twenty-five in that time.

“Genki?” Felix demanded to know, his voice warm beside Kazu’s ear. Are you well? His Japanese was nowhere near the level of Kazu’s English, but Kazu appreciated the effort. The rushed little greetings were making him feel a little less overwhelmed.

“Genki,” Kazu muttered, though now that he thought about it, he felt far, far from genki, and he didn’t feel good about lying to his friend. “Ah – I – I’m tired.”

“You look it, buddy,” Felix said as he pulled back, frowning as he scanned his friend’s face. “When was your flight in? Today?”

“Ah, uh, yes,” Kazu said shakily. “For me, yesterday.”

“Right, right.” Felix turned his head, beckoning for his taller, darker companion to join them. So far, he had been hovering a few steps below, but he silently came back up, letting Felix take his hand. The rest of the party had gone about their business by now, Kazu noted.

“Elli, you remember me telling you about Kazuhito, right?”

The guy nodded quietly.

“Kaz, this is Elliott,” Felix smiled.

Kazu glanced down, gulping back a mouthful of sour spit as he saw how the two of them were holding hands. He’d never felt anything romantic towards Felix, but he’d also never had to share him with anyone; when he’d come to Japan, Felix had been alone and completely helpless until Kazuhito had offered him somewhere to stay.

Now Kazu was the one in a foreign land. Now he was the one who was alone.

He was working himself up to repeating the name Felix had given, briefly panicking that he was going to mess up the L-sound. He wondered if he should just lean into a funny mispronunciation, to try to break the ice.

“Ni-nice to mee–”

Kazu swallowed mid-speech and clamped a hand to his mouth. The crashing waves in his stomach were even more unsettled after the jumping and hugging and spinning. The excitement and relief he’d felt upon seeing Felix was already ebbing away, leaving just nausea and exhaustion. He really didn’t feel like talking, not with how horrible his body felt, and not while there were so many people around. What he wanted was a bed, preferably his futon back home, but he’d have settled for anything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Felix asked, his eyes widening again.

“Ore – kibun –  I…” Kazu mumbled into his hand, too dizzy to try to explain in English. He gently placed his other hand on his stomach for emphasis. “Onaka ga itai.”

“What, really? Your stomach hurts?” Felix glanced around, stepping closer again so he could put a hand to Kazu’s elbow.

Kazu moaned. He felt like the world was tilting on its side. He wanted to warn Felix of just how bad he felt, of the very real danger of –

Before he could make up his mind what to do or say, his body made a decision of its own, and his head shot forward with incredible force. His hand flew away and his jaw fell open, and he emptied out the scarce remains of his in-flight meal and all of the water he’d drank.

A beat of silence rang through his head after the splash.

His mouth was still hanging open wide as saliva and vomit dripped from his lips to the polished white floor. He slowly looked up to see that he’d puked all over Felix and his boyfriend, coating their shoes and the fronts of their clothes with thick white chunks and yellow liquid. The nearby guests had leaped back, shuffling about and looking at their feet and exclaiming things that Kazu couldn’t focus enough to hear.

With his stomach feeling somewhat relieved, Kazu felt his shoulders begin to tremble with a weak roll of laughter.

“Fucking hell, Felix,” the boyfriend growled, as though Kazu’s vomit was somehow Felix’s responsibility. His hands were hovering out from his body as he looked down at his destroyed shirt, his spattered suspenders.

Felix just gave a shaky smile and put his hand on Kazu’s shoulder.

“Fee-kun, gomen,” Kazu giggled, sorry, covering his mouth in response to both the laughter and the nausea that was rolling around for a second appearance. He gulped loudly, making Felix jump. “Go-gomen, ne…”

“Don’t – don’t be sorry, okay? Let’s just get you out of here. Excuse us, sorry, can we just –?”

Kazu let himself be directed back out through the doors and towards the top of those outdoor marble stairs again. His vision was fuzzy, but Kazu broke away and threw himself against a wall, doubling forward and ejected another stream of sick, this time into an elaborate flowerbed about ten feet below.

“Oh, gosh, the hydrangeas.”

Kazu tensed as he felt Felix come up beside him.

“Sorry, it’s – don’t worry, just get everything up. You poor thing,” Felix sighed, rubbing his back firmly despite the fact his dress shirt and jacket were now soaked through with sweat. With his free hand, Felix reached around and laid a cool palm against Kazu’s forehead. “I think you might have picked up a bug, maybe on one of your flights. You’re a tad hot. Atsui.”

“Atsui,” Kazu agreed, spitting away some of the sour fluid still pooling around his tongue and teeth. He lifted his head back from over the wall. He scoffed with nervous laughter as he looked at that first wave of sick again, soaking into the laces of Felix’s shoes. “Yabai. Sorry, Felix.”

“Daichi Kazuhito?”

A woman’s deep voice made Kazu turn his head. His guts felt even wobblier under her pale yellow gaze. She had frosty-white hair, almost as white as the streak that ran through Kazu’s, breaking up the silky black. He didn’t have to wonder who she was.

“Ka-Kazuhito desu,” he muttered. “Ryan-sama, hajimemashite. Tanjoubi omedetou…”

Felix cleared his throat. “He – he said it’s nice to meet you, and happy birthday –”

“Yes, thank you, Felix,” Ryan said evenly. Without any change in her expression, she began to address Kazu, in Japanese, explaining that she was good friends with Yumi, which he’d already been aware of. He had to really focus on what she was saying, not just because of her accent, but also because his belly was still churning, despite its contents now being spread out across Felix, Elliott, and the mansion’s hydrangeas. His ears pricked up at certain words, especially when he realised she was asking him a question. “Hitori de?”

Kazu nodded miserably as his fever- and jetlag-induced fear was pounded into his chest. He began to press a hand against his belly again, as the nausea began to melt into a dull, twisting ache.

“Hi-hitori de,” he said in a quiet voice. He had come here alone. One person. Just Kazuhito. He mumbled softly that Yumi sent her apologies, but work had been too hectic for her to take time off to travel.

As he spoke, he felt Felix reach up to brush his hair back from his sticky forehead. Kazu felt goosebumps breaking out all down his back and his arms.

“He can stay with us, can’t he, Ryan?” Felix asked softly. “Seeing as he’s sick. He helped me out a lot, back when – well, when I was in a much worse state than this.”

Ryan pursed her lips. “Elliott’s already headed for the car.”

A warm glow spread through Kazu’s chest as Felix linked an arm through his elbow and pulled him close. “Thank you, Ryan. So, we’ll see you at home tomorrow?”

“You will, indeed.” Ryan looked Felix up and down swiftly, eyeing the vomit stains on his pants and shirt. “Wash those trousers immediately. You can burn the shirt. It’s an insult to good taste.”

Felix laughed to himself as she stalked off, and Kazu finally eased the last of his weight up from his elbows, up from the edge of the wall. He felt his stomach gurgle, the sound traveling right up in his throat. He burped uneasily into his fist and smiled awkwardly at Felix.

“Come on,” the bright-haired boy coaxed. “Let’s get you out of here, before you puke all over these lovely steps.”

[thewalkingfanfictions]

Impromptu Cuddles

"Imagine having to share a bed with Spencer during a case, only to wake up in his arms."

~IMPROMPTU CUDDLES~

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

Description: During a case, Spencer and the reader are forced to share a room with only one bed. Cute fluffy shit happens.

⚠Warning⚠: Mentions of a really bloody case, probably some cuss words. Unless repressed romantic feelings are a problem for you, then nothing else, I don't think.

Genre: fluffy fluff with a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes and tilt your head exactly fourteen degrees to the left.

Pairing: Dr. Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) x non gender specific Reader

A/N: guys, this was supposed to be a one shot, and somehow it turned into nearly seven thousand words. How. I don't even know where I was three quarters of the time, but I love it anyway. I'm breaking it into two or three parts so it'll be easier to read, enjoy! (Also, not my picture, credit to whoever made it :))

Words without A/N: 2006 

Masterlist

<—————————————>

"Alright, team, let's head back and get some shut eye," Agent Hotchner sighed in defeat.

We had just found the fifth body. This one just a little boy, barely five years old. The unsub had been on a non-stop murder spree for the last week and a half, and he didn't seem to have a preference point for his victims.

Nobody was safe from this monster. His first victim had been an elderly Nigerian lady, and his second was a body builder from California. He was just killing whoever, or whatever he could get his hands on. Not just humans was he after. We'd found carcasses of dogs and cats, all the way up to cows decorating his path like some messed up Hansel and Grettle bread trail. All with the same or similar COD.

We had been following his path of carnage all around North America and we still couldn't get a lead. Most of us hadn't slept in over forty-eight hours and none of us were in any position to keep working. So Hotch finally decided to step in and get us one night to rest so we could be in tip top shape for the next days of continued hunting. Or, closer to that than we were now, at least.

Right now we were in some little rag-tag town called Prairie, or something of the like. We'd been to so many places in the last week they had all started to blend together.

"The only Hotel I could find on such short notice is a little place called the 'Budget 8 Motel', they've got eight rooms currently open each with either a medium or a twin sized bed. They've got a point six five star rating and do not provide breakfasts, but do have small kitchenettes in the rooms themselves. Oh– fascinating, did you know that the origin of the star rating scale didn't come into prospect by motel owners until well into the-"

"Spence... we got it."

"Oh yeah, yeah, sorry..." Why do people always cut him off like that? Personally I find his rambling to be absolutely adorable. So what he has verbal diarrhea at times, it was better than swallowing all of his feelings and thoughts and letting them eat him from the inside like the rest of the team did. And I almost always learned something new every time. It was good information to know none the less.

I swear the entire ride I could feel his eyes on me. Every once in a while I would glance up at him out of the corner of my eye and catch him quickly looking in some other random direction.

All of us (except Rossi, who would be meeting us at the hotel) had been crammed into one of the suburbans, and with seven people, it was a squeeze.

Hotch was in the drivers seat with a pregnant JJ in the passengers, which meant that the other four of us had to squish ourselves into the three seated back seat. Morgan was up against the window on the right side with Emily pushed so hard up against him that she was practically in his lap. Then was poor Spencer who, despite his dislike of touching people, was trying his hardest not to be shoving Emily any harder into Morgan, which in turn meant he was heavily pushed against me. He was trying so hard not to squish either of us that he was practically folding himself into a profiler taco.

We soon pulled into the car park of the little Inn. If the inside looked anything like it did on the out, we were in for some fun. Heavy sarcasm intended.

It was already dark out and the one street light that decorated the car park was incredibly dull, and flickering dangerously. There were four other vehicles parked around the place, each more menacing looking than the last. The large rectangle garbage bin was overflowing onto the cement and the smell was absolutely rancid. We hadn't even gotten out of the vehicle yet. We all just sat there for a moment staring at it. Tonight was going to be fun...

"Alright," Derek clapped his hands, "I'll go in and get us our keys. Be back in a sec." He opened the door and spilled out of it rather unceremoniously, pausing  before walking stiff legged towards the door.

"Finally, some room to breath!" Cooed Emily as she scooted over into Morgans previous sitting space, giving some wiggle room to Spencer and I.

I sighed heavily and flopped back against the seat, closing my eyes and counting the seconds until I could go curl up in a ball and sleep. What I hadn't realized, was that I had fallen asleep right there.

I was awoken by a quiet voice speaking in my fac, and soft warmth across my top.

"Hey, (name), come on its time to get up, you can sleep once we get to the room," a soft voice hushed.

Sighing, I opened my eyes to find Spencer's face above mine, one of his hands on my shoulder gently shaking me back to life. Glancing down i noticed a jacket layed over me like a blanket, how had that gotten there? I grumbled slightly but didn't object as he helped me from the back seat and to the ground. He helped me gain my bearings as we walked towards the office, filling me in that everybody else was already in there talking to the guy behind the desk, Rossi had shown up, and there had been some complication with the rooms that he had only just caught wind of as he was leaving to come wake me up.

It was unbelievably cold, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Spencer shivered slightly, but when I tried to hand him back what I quickly realized to be his jacket, he waved a dismissive hand and laid the jacket over my shoulders. I sent him a thankful smile and listened to him talk, just kind of humming along, not really paying attention to his words, just listening to the sound of his voice.

We entered the office and we both automatically went quiet, listening to what was transpiring between the office manager and the team.

"And you're sure there's no other rooms? Or at least some with double beds?" Came the deeper voice of Morgan

"Nope, sorry, all full," this voice was higher pitched, but still distinctly masculine. It held boredom and irritation.

"I don't think you realize, we are federal agents, we've been chasing a psycotic serial killer for the last week and a half, and we are all very tired. So I'll ask you again. Are you absolutely certain that there are no more rooms available?" That had to be JJ. And she sounded homicidal.

"I... I'm so-rry miss but... there.. There's no ex-tra rooms, I'm sorry..." She scared him into stuttering! If I didn't feel like I was about to pass out I probably would have laughed!

"You guys'll just have to... have to double up?"

Spencer and I looked at each other over their conversation questionably. Finally walking into the room, we were greeted by the sight of a very angry looking JJ, an Emily who looked like she could pass out right then and there, three agitated and exasperated BAU operatives and a tall chubby kid who couldn't have been more than fifteen, who looked like he was about to piss himself.

"What's going on?" I asked in a groggy voice that honestly didn't even sound like mine to me.

"Turns out there is only half as many rooms as we thought were open so, yay, we all get to bunk up!" Morgan said sarcastically in a very humorless tone.

''But there was eight. Who gets to be partnerless?" Asked Spencer, who hadn't left my side since we came into the place.

Of course, we all already knew the answer to that one.

Hotch was the boss, and he had been working quadruple time trying to catch this prick, I'm positive that he hadn't slept in at least three days, if not more, and by the look of his disheveled state—one of which he rarely ever showed—he probably hadn't.

Nobody bothered to say any of it, though, all silently agreeing on it.

At some point during our telepathic conversation I had started leaning on Spencer, needing all the help I could get to keep from falling over. And, to my surprise, he didn't get all awkward and huffy. He actually turned slightly so that I was leaning more against his side than his shoulder, trying to make everything a bit more comfortable. Once I actually realized what I was doing I straightened up some and mumbled slightly through a yawn,

"Mmsorrymmm," when I looked back over at him to see if I had made him uncomfortable, he almost looked upset. Oh, I had been making him uncomfortable, but he is so warm I kinda wanted to lean into him again. I bit the inside of my cheek slightly, trying to keep from doing exactly that.

I barely had the energy to lift my head up from staring at the floor. When I heard the tail end of Rossi and the kid behind the counters conversation, I internally groaned. Our rooms were on the second floor, and they didn't have an elevator. I sighed and slowly began trudging after the waddling JJ. Slowly we climbed up the stairs, the thought of a warm bed gave me a bit of a second wind after a while though. Climbing a bit faster Morgan and I were the first to reach our doors.

We both stood there a moment looking at our surroundings. Everything, and I mean everything was decorated with an unhealthy layer of graffiti, dulled slightly by the thick layer of dust that coated it all too. The smell of mold and the other dark things that hid in the crevices of the walls was almost suffocating. This was really the only place open?

Hotch and Rossi and the rest arrived at the top whilst we were looking. They seemed almost as disturbed as Morgan and I were. While the others stopped in front if us, Aaron kept walking, picking a seemingly random room and calling out a half hearted "g'night" over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

"Let's decide this now so I can go to sleep," Morgan spoke. His voice groggy with sleep and sounding almost irritated. "Who's sleeping where and in what room." His question had sounded more like a demand, and when Spencer stepped forward, obviously thinking it would be he to stay with in the room with Morgan, Derek quickly looked over to Rossi who was leaned up against the wall. "I call you," he demanded and headed off to a random room.

Spencer almost looked hurt. But when JJ and Emily went off to their room and it was just us two left, his features lifted slightly. Then tightened down into nervousness.

"Guess its us then," I mumbled, already aiming for the door to the room that Spence and I would be sharing. I heard him mumble something inaudible back and follow after me.

I twisted the key in the doors lock and shoved against the door with my shoulder. I stumbled inside and went straight towards the little bed in the corner of the room. The room was one of those two room things that had the living room, bedroom, and kitchen all in one and the bathroom out to the side somewhere.

The bed was an oddity in itself. It looked to be something like a hybrid between a twin size and the next size up. Just a bit bigger that a twin, and it looked older than I am. I was right. The inside of the building did match nearly perfectly with our first view of the place from the car park.

[sinnercerely]

𝕋ɪʟʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴜs ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ|

To be her’s and only her’s! //  𝒯𝑜𝑔𝒶 + 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇!

♡ Toga only. However, a poly relationship with uraraka is coming! ♡

🥀 reader-type:

o Black (familiar with African-American culture) 

♡ She/Her/They/Them

o Asexual

♡ Feline Quirk 🥀

—————————————————————————-

Headcannon: Himiko and the reader’s relationship dynamic and love between the two troublemakers! ————————————🔪————————————

(fluff!) |Here kitty, kitty, kitty!

🌸 Possessive

🔪 Touch-Starved

🌸 ChAoTiC/IMPULSIVE

🌸 A week hasn’t even passed, yet she is absolutely DEDICATED to you. She makes sure to kiss all your tears away and clean all your wounds. Emotionally and physically.

🍡 When she cleans your cuts and bruises from fights with heroes, that slimy bastard is all over you (her tongue)! She won’t lick you on the intimate parts of your body, she respects you too much to break your boundaries!

🌸 When it comes to comforting you, she loves to make jokes out of dark situations. Nothing is off-limits for her unless you say so. If you want her to be more serious, she will, even if that lasts for at least 3 minutes. She will always be serious about you, so she will show you that. As long as you give her cuddles for her effort! She wouldn’t want for her kitten to be forced to be put back in their place...though, you do look cute with bite marks, cuts, and bruises...

🍡 Won’t let her help you? Fine. Hope you are prepared for feral Toga. She gets nasty with you by, talking over you, attacking you with her love bites in public, ignoring you when you want her attention, killing everyone in the damn place for talking or looking at you, and cutting you with her knife. The cuts usually are on your thighs, stomach, and arms. She would mark your face, but, that area is for her slaps. Though, don’t worry she would kiss all the tears away and makeup if you wear that. Just...let her love you lol.

🌸 If you have a side job, she will stand in the corner of the store and watch you. Her posture tenses up when someone gets near you. God forbid someone tries to hit on you...at least 5 bodies are dumped in the dumpster at the back of the building. She won’t even collect their blood. Only the tastiest and worthy blood enters her. So...I hope you can handle her trying to suck onto you like a CapriSun lol. Even when you are working. Might need to knock her in the head to stop her.

🍡 Now, is you won’t allow her to be in the building you are in, that’s fine. She will follow you either way. Behind a counter? She is outside the door and staring at you with a hoodie that says ‘Thot Destroyer’. Getting some fresh air? Cool, she’ll stand on top of a building and stare down at you. Taking a shower?.........where are your clothes?

🌸 She has a tracklist of being a pervert, so, yeah, she will take your clothes to admire your body as you search for a new set of clothes...which is all under her butt. But, you don’t need to know that :].

🍡 Insecure about your body? Oh hell no! Not on her watch! “WHAT?!- DID SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR BODY KITTEN?!?- OH HELL NO-” If you have slang in your vocabulary, she will take that crap and slander a bitch until all their insecurities are popping out. She will drag that bitch by their roots (anyone can get it) and disfigure their asses. Just to throw their asses outside with no dignity and missing limbs (if that’s what you want honey) or slowly and painfully end them. 

🌸 No one is making you insecure? So, your thoughts are making you insecure? "Well, when are those thoughts gonna show up for these rounds?". She is kidding of course. She would make sure to praise you every day and 24/7. Feel ‘too fat’? She will encourage you to wear tight underwear and kiss all your fat! Suffocate her with your thighs, please! PLEASE. Discolorment on your body? She will spoil you in products that will help ease that insecurity while making sure it does not hurt your gorgeous melanin!

🍡 Now for the educational bit! Japan isn’t free from colorist ideas and racism. So, you need to be honest about your experiences with being black in Japan. She will educate herself on black culture and history, if anyone tries to deny the damage colonists have created, bastards are gonna be laying cold on the floor. She isn’t ignorant to how shitty black people are treated, especially if you are dark-skinned, just know she isn’t gonna be a ‘savior’ for black people. She will be an ally, she will respect your culture, and hit people with true history!

🌸 Now, back on insecurities, creams that 'lighten your skin' is very common in Asia. So, she would not shame you if you did that or is considering doing that, she will however compliment you. Not for brightening your skin, but for being black. She will praise your culture and make sure to buy things that are very prominent in your community. She will encourage you to start embracing that melanin! You do not have to pay for your thickness, big lips, beautiful big eyes, and THAT SHINE. My dude, that glow on dark skin...welp, she is jealous!

🍡 She will definitely do your hair for you! No matter how long it may take, she will make sure your hair is healthy and moisturized! She will order products from amazon for your hair type if you are going natural, like puffballs, afros, braids, and etc. However if you have your hair relaxed or permed, she will buy the best products for your hair, things that strengthen your hair definitely. Wear wigs? Cool! She will try some on with you! Praise you, no matter what others think, you are beautiful/gorgeous/breathtaking with and without the wig.

🌸 Though, she will need to be reminded to not harshly brush your hair, since your ears are big and blends into your hair (and well it hurts as well!). She will be mindful but will mess with your ears, you will need to bite her hands to get her to stop!

🍡 When she is allowed to bathe you, she will fill the bathtub with bubbles and terrorize you! She will scare you by popping out of the water without your acknowledgment, pull your fluffy tail, and tickle you into submission so she can mess with your big ears. So, lock your bathroom door! But, even then, she will wait in a bathroom counter just to bathe with you, soooo, you do not have a choice.

🌸 Anyway, she goes by the rule, “Talk shit, get hit.” Soooo, yeah, lol. She does not play when it comes to you, no matter how different you are to her, she will love you regardless! You two are always ready to fight for each other, so you two are quite the dynamic! Plus, fashionable! Even when blood stains your clothes, beauty cannot be hidden, love.

🍡 Now for some chaos! You two steal from everywhere! Malls, houses, banks, and grocery stores of course! Toga tends to overfill her bra with snacks for you and her (even if you don’t want to eat something, she will ‘gently’ force food down your throat). She likes to get you thicker, even if you are skinny, she will want some type of change in your body, even if it just shows in your face. Also, she will make sure to get supplies for periods as well, if you have those.

🌸 If you two are unfortunate enough to have devils disguised as the uterus, you two will cry, stuff your faces, force a lot of water into your system, and holding heat pads against each other! Even if you don’t have that, she needs you! The girl throws up, cries, and can faint when on her period. So, cuddle her, make her food (something is southern please! She likes southern food from America! Grits, biscuits with gravy, and sausage please!) even cover her in kisses, she will pay you back when the pain stops :)

🍡 When you two are working in the LOV, you two create a lot of fun. Stealing Tomura’s game systems to throw them in the nearby garage bin, cock blocking Dabi, hooking Mr. Compress up with multiple people (even if they are married 👀), and being degenerates in public while cosplaying with Spinner. When Tomura tries to end you two, Toga whips his ass lol. You’ll jump in of course (don’t worry, Tomura won’t actually kill you two, you two are too valuable to the team. Also, he loves his team! He will kill for you two! He loves y’all too much 🥺). Dabi will laugh his ass off while recording the scene, Spinner’s jaw is on the floor, but he is chuckling silently, Mr. Compress breaks it up, but he does watch for a while and poorly hides laughter. So, Tomura now sits in the corner of the bar and complains under his breath, if Toga looks at him, he turns away and tenses up. Toga is a baddie honestly!

🌸 For softer days, you and her whip Tomura’s ass while playing games (he will use cheats to prevent this! Do not say anything though, he is a brat and will dust your controller right there and then). Next, go to the arcade with Spinner, you two always compliment him to ease his insecurities. When someone says something about his appearances, you and Toga plan a homicide. Now, being lazy with Dabi is rare, but fun. You all chat about random stuff, even if he taunts you two, he does still listen and care (he is trying!) about you two. Finally, Mr. Compress is the person who takes you two out for dinner. Toga eats like a pig, but you and Mr. Compress wipe her off and scold her. She has a tendency to swipe both of you two's food, so be careful, and she does bite if you try to take it back!

🍡 You two made a nighttime routine, which will include cuddles, kisses, and a lot of talking. She can not shut up until you fall asleep, she usually talks about the future and how much she loves you. She is considering repurposing her life because she wants you to be able to reach your dreams without her criminal record weighing you down. Even though you have a criminal record as well, she is willing to do anything just for you to go get a high school diploma and go to college. No matter what it takes. She wants you to be happy, successful, and healthy. Hopefully, you two can change together. She would not look bad in a doctor’s coat, and you would not look bad with a diamond ring on your finger...

[kathyprior4200]

Entertainment in Inferno! (Alastor Enters Hell)

Part 1: “Alastor enters Hell” 1933

  Hell: 1933

 Black empty space.

Complete silence.

He felt like he was floating in some kind of void. Where he was, he didn’t know.

 He had no form, no physical sensations of any kind.

For a moment he just…was.

 A small white light emerged from the dark above, and steadily grew. Though it was blinding, the light didn’t bother him.

“Alastor…Alastor…”

A choir of vocals were speaking the repeated word in the distance. The voices grew louder as he felt himself rising upward. The word felt comforting to him, and sounded strangely familiar.

“Alastor…”

 He suddenly stopped and saw a golden gate up ahead within white clouds. A winged figure puffed up his white wings and stared at him.

“I am Puriel,” the angel said. He had a white face with red blotches on his cheeks, yellow eyes and short bronze gold hair. He was dressed in white dress pants, a white shirt, a golden bowtie, and matching shoes.

“I am an examiner of souls and one of many who determine where one goes in the afterlife.”

He spoke an incantation.

“Alastor Roscoe Duvalier,” Puriel stated. “Here is your previous form.”

Alastor gasped as he suddenly remembered his name. A flood of memories of his past life rushed back to him.

Alastor stared down at himself and saw his human reflection in front of him. A thin man with a pointed chin stared back at him with chocolate brown eyes and small round glasses. His skin was a very light brown, looking almost white. His hair color was in-between brown and red, short with a bit of a wave pointing to one side. The longest parts of his hair were slightly past his ears, reaching toward his chin.

A large black bowtie was positioned below his neck. His undershirt was white with buttons and crisscrossing lines forming a few diamonds. The design resembled the structure of a radio tower. Along with tan pants and brown boots, he wore a candy red pinstriped coat with dark red stripes going vertically down toward his waist.

What was disturbing about his reflection was a small red x on his forehead between his eyes that seemed to be glowing. His clothes were stained with blood as was the side of his face.

Alastor sprouted a large grin and instantly felt better. He said his name out loud, surprised to hear his voice.

 The angel in front of him continued. “Alastor Roscoe Duvalier, born in New Orleans to French American Joseph Duvalier and Creole American Loretta Duvalier. Entered Earth January 24th, 1896 at 3:00AM. Died in 1933 in the woods via a gunshot to the head and mauling by dogs.”

A brief flashback of him running from the police, trying to hide in the woods. Hearing the growling of canines and being surrounded by sharp teeth. A loud gunshot and an exploding pain through his head. Briefly seeing a buck in the distance before things went black.

Puriel looked through an endless holographic list of souls. He turned to Alastor with a glare.

“Due to the endless number of people you killed, you are not fit to enter Heaven. You are to either enter Hell, purgatory, Tartarus…” he listed off dark places from other cultures…

“…or go back to the endless void, as those who die a second death are fated to go.”

Alastor could feel a strange sensation, like someone, or something was tugging at his chest. It seemed to come from far below. He suddenly felt the need to follow it.

Having read his mind, Puriel nodded, a look of disgust on his face. “Your fate has been decided. Suffering and death will be there to meet you, unless you can somehow redeem yourself. Farewell.”

 The angel and the golden gate vanished, the darkness filling in again. Like the sudden drop of a roller coaster, Alastor felt himself plummeting rapidly down through the dark.

He literally screamed into the void.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

He thought he briefly saw a familiar blue and green planet out in space, but everything rushed by too quickly for him to comprehend.

Breaking through dark ground, falling further into hot magma, uncomfortable heat that was even hotter than the sun…

Falling ever so endlessly, until he rushed through an opening portal in a crimson sky, the rim surrounded by flames.

 Down below, a group of little red skinned imps were forcing enchanted voodoo dolls made of straw to dance on hot coals. Red glowing chains held the dolls in place around their necks, the magic coming from the lead imp’s claws. The lead imp cackled, wearing ringmaster’s clothing and a round hat while the other imps jeered. A few demons watched the show from a distance. Several circus tents were lined nearby. The lead imp looked up in horror as the yelling figure fell down…and crushed him, creating a giant crater in the ground. The chains disappeared and the dolls cheered. They jumped over the coals and chased away their tormentors with sizzling silver pins.

The imp and Alastor fell through another portal, this time into a dark void.  Alastor landed hard on his back despite no visible structure being there. He coughed and slowly stood up, brushing off dirt and ash from his hair and clothes. The imp rubbed his long horns in pain and stood up too. The imp glared at Alastor, baring his fangs, but was quickly held into place via black tentacles pinning down his arms and legs. The imp yelled before being consumed by rows of sharp white teeth that appeared in the dark.

Alastor remained perfectly still, not even daring to breathe. (Not that he really could, anymore.) The black space was nothing like the silent void of death. In fact, it was more like an ocean of dark matter, humid heat and…

…things that were alive.

 Shadow spirits ebbed and flowed through the endless space, some with glowing white eyes, others with horns, all of them blending in within the dark. Shrieks, moans, and the occasional cackle filled the air.

“Hello darkness, my old friend,” Alastor spoke to himself.

“Hello to you as well,” said a voice from behind him.

Alastor spun around and only saw darkness.

“Who’s there?”

“Over here,” said the voice, in a distorted eerie tone.

He looked to the side and nearly gasped. Surrounded by an aura of red was a shadow of what looked like a skeletal humanoid deer. The figure stood upright with large white holes for eyes and sharp teeth inside its mouth. A pair of large antlers sat around shadow deer ears and a mess of hair. A claw with four fingers gripped Alastor’s shoulders.

“Who are you?” Alastor asked.

The being morphed until it was a black copy of him.

“I am you,” the shadow replied. “You may call me… Rotsala. I was born from your deepest nightmares, nestled in your subconscious. All of your evil thoughts, your fear, your rage…and your desire for vengeance. Those thoughts nourished me. Every kill you made on Earth brought you one step closer to not only death, but also to the underground Loas, and myself. Once you died, I was born with this shadow vessel, and separated from your mind. I traveled down here, to my home, knowing you would come. Now we are reunited at last.”

“But you’re not a part of me anymore,” Alastor said.

“Yes and no,” the shadow said. “Though I have my own body, I am still a reflection of your true feelings, your true motivations. So, naturally, once we get to Hell I’ll be your…guide, as it were.”

“But we can’t go back to Hell. Aren’t we stuck down here?”

“Not for long,” said the shadow. He pointed down to Alastor’s arm. Alastor looked and saw three glowing red voodoo symbols etched onto it in blood.

Alastor could sense other ancient beings moving closer to him, speaking in ghostly whispers.

The shadow continued, “Your debt to the Loas and specifically to Lord Kalfu has been paid. A sacrifice of loved ones in addition to your own gruesome death…bestows upon you, neigh unlimited power.”

 It all happened before Alastor had the chance to blink. Shadow creatures rapidly circled around him and black tentacles enveloped his entire body like a macabre cocoon. Alastor yelled as his human skin cracked, and peeled off his body in fleshy chunks, which soon faded into dust. Muscle and bone also disintegrated rapidly. Surprisingly, it wasn’t agonizing. It was more like the natural process of a snake shedding its old skin to make way for something new.

He felt formless, naked and cold, but soon warmed up as new flesh formed where his old exterior shell once was.

 His new skin and face were grayish in color. Empty dark sockets took up much of his face, the home of his new demonic red eyes. Soon, other body features formed: thin gray arms, legs, four fingered hands and four-toed feet…an anatomy of a male human, though definitely not human at all.

Alastor opened his mouth and sharp yellow fangs slowly emerged from the top and bottom. They closed together to form a wide sinister smile.

Thick red hair grew on Alastor’s head, pointing out in a slight wave toward the right like his previous human form. Tuffs of hair ending slightly past his chin on either side completed the look, ending with black colored tips. Instead of round earlobes, thick fluffy deer-shaped ears grew from the sides of his head, ending in black furry tips. In addition, small black antlers stuck out in the middle of his head, along with a fluffy black and red deer tail that appeared near his tailbone.

Alastor waved his hand in front of his right eye, and an old fashioned monocle appeared under it, connected by a thin chain. A burgundy pinstriped dress coat and a red undershirt materialized and covered his body. The ends of the coat were filled with several holes, giving it a tattered feel. An upside down black cross lay under a large black bowtie in place under his chin and neck. He wore the same color pants, plus black shoes with red deer hoof prints on the soles. Black gloves with red tips covered his four-clawed hands.

With his new form complete, the tentacles released Alastor and parted away.

 Tingling hot red electricity spread into his head, then moved down his body, much of it resting in his hands and fingers. He snapped on instinct and a burst of red magic sparked to life like a firework.

Then knowledge of magic and voodoo spells entered into his brain. The new information faded into the back of his head, staying there like he had it within him all his life.

“HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!”

Alastor let out a maniacal laugh that rose higher into hysterical giggles. All this supernatural power was coursing through his veins, and he loved every second of it.

Finally the magic quietly faded with a humming sound.

Two shadow demon figures approached with silent steps, eyes glowing red. Alastor could barely make out their forms in the blackness.

“One more thing,” said the shadow. “Demons make deals down here in Hell, and they are not to be taken lightly. These two are friends of mine. They are a few of the representatives of this world below Hell.”

The shadow creatures morphed into two alternate versions of Alastor. The one to the left had a red deer head with large antlers, radio dials for eyes and a dark blue suit. The other one had an old fashioned radio for a head, and wore a red suit with a black tie with crisscross lines on it like those of a radio tower.

“These two have taken forms suitable to your liking. They were the main ones who helped transform you…you may call them by their pseudonyms Cerf and Muse.”

The two shadows turned men awkwardly waved, feeling out of place in their temporary demon costumes.

“Since they used all their effort to craft you a suitable body to enter Hell…it only seems fitting that you could help them out as well.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes. There was more to this. “A proposal?”

The shadow nodded. “Give some of your newfound power to them and a connection will be forged between you and my brethren. You will be able to summon imps, shadow spirits and even the darkest creatures of the underworld with just a snap of your fingers. Cerf and Muse can serve as your bodyguards.”

Cerf walked forward. “I will give you animal instincts like sharp hearing and fast reflexes.”

Muse elbowed Cerf’s side and pushed forward. “I can give you something even better…your own personal weapon!”

Alastor was intrigued. “What is it?”

Muse smirked and wagged his claw, “You’ll have to agree to the deal if you want to find out!”

Alastor kept his smile on his face, standing proud in the face of uncertainty and risk. “And what’s in it for you?”

Alastor’s shadow grinned. “Why, your power, of course! Your sins on Earth coupled with your granted powers have made you, perhaps the most powerful demon yet to be. It would be quite useful for us in the long run.”

“Yes, yes,” said Cerf, “You know, ‘cause we want to eventually be free to roam Hell…and feast on delicious souls…havoc on the house!”

Muse elbowed him hard and flashed a warning.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Idiot,” he muttered.

“Aw come on,” said Cerf. “We worked for that Dr. Facilier not too long ago, remember? His soul’s still in Hell and he still has his Eldritch powers. This guy can’t be that bad.”

Alastor grinned, getting an idea. “Hmm…how much power do you want from me?”

“50%,” said the shadow.

Alastor scoffed. “Ha! No. Way too much. After all that effort in giving it to me? No. I won’t relent that easily.”

“Well…if you don’t take the deal, we could always take some away…”

Alastor leaned in close and sneered, “Then I guess I’d be left with fighting myself for eternity then. I think we both know that it would get boring fast.”

The shadow nodded after a pause. “Touche. How about 30%?”

“Still too much. I could give you a wealthy 1%.”

“It’s gotta be above a single digit, or the exchange is off,” said the shadow. “25%.”

“Nonono. How about 10%. You tell me where I can find this Facilier guy…make him my slave…it’ll be all yours.”

Alastor’s shadow held out his hand, the other creatures looking on eagerly. “So, do we have a deal?”

Alastor grinned and put his hand into the shadowy digit. Green electricity sparked as they shook.

Cerf and Muse spiraled around him in circles. Cerf vanished into Alastor’s ears, awakening his senses. Muse turned into shadow once more…and began to change shape. The shadow transformed and Alastor felt something appear in his right hand.

 It was an old red vintage microphone staff. A glowing red eye appeared on the top, just below where the speaker was.

“About time you sealed that surreal deal,” came a voice from the device. It was a male voice with a radio filter over it. It sounded like an announcer on a broadcast.

“So this is my new weapon and accessory you were talking about.” Alastor said.

“Yes indeed,” the microphone replied. “Just turn me on and you can broadcast what’s going on around you, anytime, anywhere. I should say…your desire and love for telling dad jokes…I’ll help you go overboard with it.”

Alastor grinned again. He was already enjoying this opportunity.

“Enjoy yourself while you can, Radio Star,” said his shadow before disappearing behind him.

The microphone muttered something about already feeling trapped but Alastor didn’t listen.

He was already planning his next move.

“What am I waiting for?!” he asked out loud. He concentrated on the space in front of him and a portal opened back to Hell. He stepped through it and it closed behind him.

 This would be the beginning of Alastor’s many conquests of Hell…and his new title of The Radio Demon.

 The very first attack occurred in a dark forest in the moonlight (if there were even moons in Hell). Alastor discovered that when he concentrated and waved his hands over the ground, he could summon tentacles, shadow spirits and even voodoo imps from below.

If he was going to take over this peculiar place called Hell and be entertained, at least he would have help.

The demonic deer could hear the patter of footsteps and hid in the shadows, behind an old tree. Moving his head sideways, he peered to get a better look. Walking on the trail were two skeletal deer walking on two hooves. One of them was smoking a cigarette and the other was talking about “borrowing” coins from his ex-girlfriend. Behind them was a black minotaur in jeans and overalls. The first deer carelessly threw his used cigarette on the ground.

Alastor stared at it and the path ahead, getting an idea.

He picked up a rock and threw it in the distance. It crashed hard into the ground, causing the area to shake.

The two deer froze at the explosive noise and turned their heads around.

“What was that?” one asked.

“I didn’t hear nothin’,” said the second.

“You boneheads be hearin’ things,” growled the minotaur. He unzipped his backpack and took out an axe. He swiped several times in front of him, causing the deer to duck. “I pay you to protect me. Your job’s to cut down these trees for wood. Our saloon’s not gonna warm itself up in the winter ya, know.”

He kicked one of the deer with his hoof, sending the creature forward in a pile of bones. “Hurry up, now!”

The deer got up and continued forward. Alastor stretched out his hand and a black tendril snaked in front of the path. Invisible and silent, the deer didn’t notice it until they tripped over it.

“Aurgh!” they yelled, face planting in the dirt.

“You’re good for nothin’ but shit!” chided the angry minotaur. “Get your fat bony asses up before…”

FWOOOSH!

The lone cigarette erupted into flames from behind them.

“Before…that happens?” asked one of the deer, pointing behind the minotaur.

The flames moved rapidly through the dried wood. The deer rattled as they ran but were blocked as sparks ignited in front of them, with a snap of Alastor’s fingers. The barrier of fire blocked their path. Soon, the trio of sinners were surrounded by the flames.

“Now what?” asked one of the deer.

“Run through it, imbecile!” yelled the minotaur. “Or you’ll be even deader than you already are!”

Chuckling, Alastor turned on his microphone and strode forward, the flames having no effect on him. A spotlight shone from the eye that appeared in the center of the microphone.

“I believe I can help with that.”

“Who the fuck are you?!” spat the minotaur.

“The end of your pathetic existence,” Alastor said. “I’d say your attitude is sheer bullcrap, but who am I to know for sure.” He laughed at his pun as sounds of a laughing audience emitted from the staff.

The minotaur bellowed in rage and charged forward. A hard slap on the face from Alastor sent the bull man to the ground. Alastor stomped his foot and the bone deer were sent down into the depths in pieces.

“I’ve never hunted a bull before,” Alastor said, walking up to the minotaur on the ground. Four black spirits with big white eyes appeared to restrain him. A hunting knife appeared in his gloved hand. “…But I look forward to the new experience.”

He wedged the blade under the bull’s horns and began to saw through the material. The minotaur couldn’t fight off the spirits holding him down. Taking his sweet time, Alastor cut off the bull’s other horn.

“I must say, your horns are exquisite,” Alastor mentioned. He examined one in his hands like it was an artifact.

“Stealing my horns for the black market, are ya?” asked the minotaur.

“Nope!” he said. “I’m just curious to see how useful these things can be. We’re about to find out, ladies and gents…”

He rushed forward and stabbed the minotaur with his own horn. The bull roared loudly and briefly gurgled before falling backward with a limp. The horn was removed and coated with dark red blood.

Sticking out his long purple tongue, Alastor licked off some of the blood from the horn’s surface. He bent down and began to skin the dead minotaur before enjoying his midnight meal. “In case you were wondering, folks, bull meat can be hearty and tasty. Venison is my favorite, though.”

He stood up and wiped off his mouth. With a wave of his hands, the flames disappeared as did the spirits. Clearing his throat, he said in his announcer voice, “Welcome to the first ever radio broadcast, hosted by me, Alastor. 66.6 FM. It has to be deeply embarrassing to get stabbed to death by your own horn. But I don’t have any horns except the severed ones in my hand. Honestly, seeing the life leave that sinner’s eyes got me…should I say…horny. Ha ha ha! Stay tuned for more broadcasts in the future. Ta-la for now!”

He turned off his microphone with a tap and hummed a happy tune as he walked through the woods.

 The second massacre was much more exciting for Alastor. It took place at an annual fair, which was jam packed with demons. Alastor casually walked toward the line of demons waiting to get in. He whacked one demon in the back with his cane. The demon toppled forward, ramming into another demon, who tumbled into the next one. In a comedic domino effect, all the demons crashed to the ground in yelps and grunts.

“What’s the meaning of this?” asked a grumpy old demon with the face of a mosquito. The insect demon wore a white shirt with vertical black stripes.

“Why hello there, good sir!” said Alastor, walking up to the booth. “I felt that the line was going much too slow, so I decided to speed things up.”

“Get back in line, punk,” the mosquito spit. “Or I’ll suck up your blood and energy.”

“Oh no, how scary,” Alastor exclaimed in a mocking tone. Still, he kept a protective spirit in his pocket for powerful demons like the one in front of him.

“Just tell me how much it costs to get in,” said Alastor. “I have lots of dosh.”

“One thousand and ten souls,” the mosquito grunted.

“I believe the sign only says fifty souls,” Alastor mentioned.

“No, it says one thous…”

He glanced at the sign which read: “County Fair, best in Hell, fifty souls.”

“It said one thousand and ten a moment ago.”

“I don’t think so,” said Alastor, laughing inwardly.

“Enough of your games!” bellowed the mosquito. “Get back in line. You should have enough to pay for this.”

“I do have fifty souls,” Alastor replied.

“One hundred and ten, idiot,” said the mosquito.

“Fifty!” Alastor answered.

“Hundred ten!”

“Fifty!”

“Hundred ten!”

“Hundred ten!”

“Fifty!” yelled the mosquito.

“How about zero!”

“Zero?!” yelled the mosquito.

“Zero it is! Thank you, fine sir!” called Alastor, swatting the mosquito’s face with his staff. He vanished ahead into shadow, leaving the mosquito in disbelief.

 Alastor hummed happily as he walked among aisles of stands and booths. Children monsters threw bombs at a target, sending a sitting bat demon into a tub of acid below.

“Rotten candy!” called a pink dragon at a booth. “Freshly spun for everyone!” Blue and pink candy floss was being spun, and scooped up into a white cone. The dragon burped and the candy turned a sickly green.

A hydra at another stand was throwing darts at live suspended teddy bears covered with sores, some with eyes missing. Another demon with a TV for a head was riding a unicycle while twirling live wires in his hands.

Off in the distance, a family of brown Gollums were riding on a Ferris wheel. One of the parents got mad and threw a baby Gollum off into the air.

A roller coaster with zombies in the cars sent them upside down, then dropping them several feet to the ground on a mattress of metal spikes.

 Inside a red and black circus tent, a crowd of demons sat in the stands, watching some individuals perform tricks in the center. A sign nearby read: “The Amazing Imp Siblings! Blitzo, Tilla, and Barbie Wire!”

Another sign read “The Incredible Blitzo! Big top, tickets now! One night only!”

“Come one, come all!” came the announcer’s voice from a speaker. “Presenting your favorite trio of tricksters…”

Drums played rapidly in the background…

“The Imp Siblings!”

Blitzo and his sisters emerged from an opening in the wooden floor and posed on a podium. The crowd clapped.

“Hello, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent!” called the imp in the middle. He wore a navy blue sequined outfit with yellow eye decorations on the sleeves. His face was red and white and his horns long and curved.

“I’m Tilla,” said the older imp sister.

Tilla’s face was red and her hair was long and black. Her dress was pink with black dots along the front.

“And I’m Barbie Wire!” said the youngest sibling. Barbie Wire wore a black and white stripped dress, and her horns were curved in spirals around her head like a ram.

After a jingle about their new Immediate Murder Professional Company, Blitzo mentioned to his siblings, who both grinned. The imps took their places as their performance started. Circus music played nearby, one scrawny demon playing a rusted organ on wheels off to the side.

True to her name, Barbie Wire balanced on a tightrope made of razor thin wire. When flying bats surrounded her, she took out a spear and sliced them down when they flew close. She almost fell, but held out the spear in front of her, steading herself.

Tilla was busy doing flips as a giant manticore was released from a nearby cage. The beast had a lion’s head, black bat wings, and the tail of a scorpion. Tilla dodged the deadly tail and began to jump over it like she was doing jump-rope. With a mighty back-flip, she landed on the manticore’s back and rode the beast around the arena. The manticore roared and reared up, but Tilla brought the beast back down, taming it.

Meanwhile, Blitzo was singing a song about murder into a microphone while twirling a double-sided torch in his hand. The three siblings killed off more creatures before landing gracefully back in the center before taking a bow. The crowd stood up and applauded with hands, claws, fins, and other appendages.

  “Wow, what a performance!” exclaimed Alastor, his voice blending into the cheers. “Now this is what I call one hell of a show!”

 The Radio Demon filed out with the rest of the crowd. Feeling giddy, he played several of the games at the stands (and didn’t hesitate to cheat in order to win.) He ordered hot dogs (made from actual dog), blood punch, bird brains on a stick…and passed on the literal shit kababs.

A pleasant feeling of nostalgia came over him as he remembered the fun times going to the circus with his family as a kid. He loved playing the games and feeding the animals at the petting zoo. He was especially fascinated by the fortune tellers, who had used Tarot cards to predict people’s futures. The Fool card, representing curiosity and beginnings, was drawn as his card for his childhood. For his future teenager card, the Hermit was chosen, representing isolation. Justice was the chosen card for adulthood, adding to karma. Last of all, if he made it past 30, the Devil card was placed in front of him.

At the time, he didn’t know what they meant, but it was fascinating all the same.

Back in the present, a troll with three eyes was dragging a struggling buck toward a sitting group of spider demons waiting to ride it.

“Man, I’m still hungry,” he thought. “Haven’t had venison in forever.”

He summoned a rifle in his hands and proceeded to blast the deer’s head clean off.

“The fuck?!” bellowed the gray-skinned troll, stomping toward him. “That was my prized animal!”

“And that is my meal,” he replied.

The troll raised his fist and brought it down to where Alastor once stood. He materialized behind him.

“Stop trolling around and show me what you’ve got,” said Alastor.

The troll landed more punches, Alastor dodging every one.

“You’re no fun,” Alastor replied. He held out his hand and blasted a fireball straight into the troll’s face. The troll fell backwards to the ground, only a smoking hole of charred flesh where his face once was. Alastor picked up the deer head and smiled at the spider kids.

“You arachnids still want a ride?”

The spider kids scurried away, without saying a word.

 Later on, Alastor saw something that disturbed him inside for the first time. A group of four black reptile-like demons were huddled near a yellow and red striped circus tent. One held a whip in his hand and repeatedly slashed at a living voodoo horse made of straw. The creature was hauling a cart with a cage and was whining in pain.

“Get moving you bastard beast of burden!” sneered the snake demon.

The driver of the cart let out a hiss and a laugh. “Boy, we’re gonna be filthy rich by today’s end. Got lots of good victims to torture, it’ll make the boss happy.”

Alastor walked over toward the cage and saw several small voodoo dolls who were very much alive. A father and a mother doll were comforting little doll children who huddled into their cloth chests. The mother’s eyes were purple buttons and though her mouth was stitched shut, a voice still emerged.

“It’ll be okay, my son,” she said, soothingly.

“Mom, I don’t wanna go to the spectacle,” cried the kid.

The father doll sighed. “I can see why. My mother was used by a demon to harm his rival in the Second Circle of Hell. The pins and needles stuck into her every day, hurt her as much as that poor demon. But we’re stuck as slaves. We have no choice. To the demons and imps, we’re nothing but tools to be used.”

“That is very true,” thought Alastor. “But what if they could be used in a good way?”

The father looked at a grisly array of straw voodoo heads sticking from long spikes in the ground. The dead heads were trophies for the snake monsters. One wrinkled head with white curly hair remained motionless on a bloodstained spike.

“That’s your grandmother over there,” said the father. The boy doll turned away.

“The voodoo dolls who don’t serve their purpose right…” added the mother doll. She mentioned outside to more reptile demons eating living dolls, burning others, tearing other dolls to shreds and sewing them back together, only to repeat the process.

Alastor snapped his fingers and the cage door opened. The dolls stared confused but soon ran out when they saw the demon’s face.

“Hey, get back here!” called a bipedal snake as his captives fled on their short stubby legs.

Radio noises rushed from his staff as Alastor spoke a Creole spell.

Other voodoo imps and creatures slowly turned their heads to look toward him. Round faced dolls who were originally tied by chains broke free. Many gathered nearby knives, pitchforks, and even torches.

“You inssssulent strawberry clown!” hissed the boss snake, slithering over, wearing a business suit of black. “You think you can get away with ssssetting my prizes free like that. I’ll bite you and make you wish you never died!”

A tentacle rose from the ground and constricted the snake’s neck. His yellow eyes bulged and he gasped for air through his fanged mouth. He was then tossed aside into a pit of flames. A nearby doll rebel mob stabbed the snake with sharp pins.

Casting another spell, Alastor grew taller until he towered above the circus tent. His dress coat merged with the tent and flaps. Black spikes jutted from out of the tent and other tents nearby, some with voodoo heads on them.

Telepathically using pins to hold open the flaps, Alastor pulled the rest of the snake-men in with several tentacles. A roaring fire blazed to life right where the demons were standing. The reptiles roared in agony as the flames consumed their bodies. One snake opened his mouth, wide, reaching out from the tent, trying to escape. Voodoo imps off to the side, held their little weapons in the air, attacking any other demons who wondered by. The voodoo minions now had mouths of sharp teeth, with blood around their mouths, eyes white. Alastor, meanwhile was enjoying the carnage below, now in full demon form. His hands were spread out wide, his eyes red radio dials, and his antlers jutting out from his head. All the while, his victory was broadcast yet again over the radio.

“Goood afternoon, you filthy sinners! It’s your favorite radio demon, Alastor coming in live! I am here at the annual county fair. Just listen to that cheerful circus music, and the joyful sounds of sinners on their days off. And best of all, the screams of those unfortunate enough to be trapped in my inferno! Chaos is still running rampant here as voodoo dolls strike down their former masters with every kind of weapon imaginable. You know what they say: “be careful what you wish for…you may soon be on fire, for better or worse!” Tickets are still on sale for those who’d like to experience the show. Well that’s all for now, folks. Stay tuned for more, next time on 66.6 FM.”

 Now in Alastor’s control, the doll citizens caused havoc around hell in the name of their new lord of chaos. They had aided him in his many other conquests, doing his bidding like the shadow spirits.

 During one particular conquest, the voodoo imps stood in a line beside Alastor as they overlooked a city in one of the Nine Circles. The sky on that day was red and cloudless, the color of fresh blood.

The demons who lived there had supported Sir Pentious, the evil snake overlord from the 1800s. The boastful villain himself was there, controlling a hulking machine with metal arms and legs…and lots of blasters, from the inside. His egg minion army stood at the ready, some of them running around the inside, others watching their leader in awe.

“Oh I really wish I could be shot with one of those amazingly crafted blasters,” said egg #66.

“Shut up!” hissed the overlord, his one-eyed top hat on his head. “I need to focus here! There’s a rogue army of…toys straight ahead trying to take over this turf. But several perfect shots from my blasters will do the trick.”

The snake pulled several levers and the blasters fired torpedoes that exploded off in the distance. Alastor had formed a red energy shield which protected him and the dolls.

“Hey, red reindeer man!” Sir Pentious called through a loudspeaker. “What are you doing on my turf?”

Alastor turned on his microphone. His voice echoed through the air, accompanied by radio noises.

“It’s Alastor to you, old serpent. And I believe this territory now belongs to me.”

“Well my cult of demons would disagree with you,” Sir Pentious retorted. The demons stood holding spears and barring their teeth.

“You still have a chance to surrender and run,” said Alastor. “If I were you, I’d take it.”

“Fool!” Sir Pentious hissed. “You’re not getting in my way of my domination goal! Now, prepare to be blasted to bits! Hahahaha! Attack!”

More blasts shot from the robot’s arms. The demons yelled as the eggs charged forward, wearing pinstriped suits and black top hats. Alastor pointed his claws forward and the voodoo imps rushed in. One imp with horns, a black hat, and sharp teeth held a butcher knife. Another imp with horns bit into an egg minion with a large bite. The egg yelled and cracked open in a yok mess.

The eye on Alastor’s microphone created a spotlight that temporarily blinded the approaching demon soldiers. Happy, jazz music poured from the staff, a contrast to the grisly battle occurring.

A wealthy demon wearing a white shirt and rings on two of his three fingers, fled when flames sparked in front of him. Another demon wearing a blue general’s uniform had large black eyes and horns with black and pink stripes. He tried to fight off the imps, but the creatures held onto his legs with their fangs.

Black tentacles emerged from an opening portal, grabbing onto demons and tossing them inside like rag dolls. A final blast fired from Sir Pentious’ machine. “You’re done for!” the snake declared.

The torpedo froze in mid-air after Alastor held out his hand. The missile then flew backwards, right into the heart of the machine. The hunk of metal exploded and Sir Pentious fell out with a scream. He quickly fled while his remaining egg army followed after him. “I’ll have my revenge, Alastor! It’s far from over!”

“I’d say it’s closed curtains for your show,” the radio demon replied. He cut into his hand with a fingernail and droplets of red blood glowed.

The demon general stood up on shaky legs…then was instantly crushed by a large metal pillar. The pillar along with two others held up a tall radio tower that had materialized out of nowhere. A red light blinked ominously at the top, an Illuminati eye, watching everything.

“Now there’s some technology I can truly appreciate!” Alastor exclaimed with a clap of his hands.

Whenever Alastor paid a visit to a city or town, the people would run for cover, shouting, “It’s the Radio Demon! Run for your afterlives!”

Their screams and terrified faces filled Alastor with glee and a sense of dominance. He hovered in the air, his eyes demonic red, antlers long and extending from his head. He was a figure of chaos and power, under the glowing pink Pentagram in the indigo sky. Voodoo imps carried animal skulls on spikes as they roamed the streets. They left several spikes in the ground with severed demon heads attached (and sometimes voodoo doll heads.) The spikes would often stand near piles of dead demons. Some dolls broke into stores and smashed TV screens with their spears and weapons. “VOX EATS SOCKS!” was spray painted in red by two dolls on the glass window of the trashed TV store. After they left, a lone voodoo minion replaced the red “S” with a black “C” and cackled out loud. Alastor’s deer shadow hovered nearby in the air, with red eyes, large antlers and a grinning mouth.

Radios of all shapes and sizes were soon for sale in many stores in Hell. One of Alastor’s favorite ones was an old fashioned one with three panels at the top, a dial, and a row of grinning teeth that was part of the design on the front. A friendly reminder for listeners to keep on smiling.

The voodoo imps evolved further, some growing horns of purple and bright pink. Others rode in battle on skeletal deer with glowing red horns in place of antlers. Those more inclined to water hitched rides from moving skeletons of sharks and underwater monsters.

Even poor Husk, the alcohol drinking gambler cat demon, was dragged into Alastor’s schemes several times. At one point, he was forced to do a tap dance on stage to distract a crowd of demons while Alastor razed the nearby town. It was embarrassing for the winged cat demon, but Alastor obviously got a kick out of it. Reluctantly, Husk continued to serve Alastor in exchange for booze and cigarettes. Meanwhile, Niffty gladly helped out the Radio Demon by making him meals and helping to keep his interdimensional home tidy. She was just glad to be out of the flames and to keep busy. Both Niffty and Husk’s auras briefly glowed red like Alastor’s, indicating they were associates of his. However, they had free will of their own…when they were not summoned by him on occasion.

At one point, Alastor posed with the rest of the villain overlords: Vox the TV demon, Velvet, Valentino the porn studio owner, Rosie, a skeletal deer surrounded by a halo of blue fire, a two-headed bird in a tuxedo, a bird overlord with yellow shades, a black spider demon, a thick haired lady who looked like Helsa, and another woman who may have been Lilith. Husk and Niffty stood as shadow silhouettes. Thirteen individuals in all.

 By the time Alastor heard of the Hazbin Hotel, he had performed eleven successful massacres, all throughout the Nine Circles of Hell. There were even fliers taped around, showing Alastor at the circus with his victims burning underneath him. “THE RADIO DEMON! BEWARE HIM! DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM!” the fliers read.

Alastor hummed a jolly tune as he observed the fruitful results of his carnage. He was one step closer to dominating all of Hell.

 Part 2: “Exterminations”

During one random day, the clock tower ringed twelve ominous tones. Alastor was strutting down the street when he heard the noise. He glanced up at the tower where a counter read “number of days till next purge: 0.”

“Purge?” he thought. “Sounds intriguing. Some kind of killing contest between overlords?”

Alastor soon got his answer when the center of the overhead neon pentagram in the sky tore open. Through a dark hole, dark flying creatures swarmed out and headed off in different directions. There were at least twenty of them, perhaps more.

Upon closer inspection, they were dark angels with black feathery wings, curved horns and bird-like feet clad in dark armor. They wore LED masks complete with creepy glowing grins, large x’s over their right eyes and curved horns off to the back, reaching past behind their heads. Each one also carried a harpoon spear in their hands.

One angel threw a spear that struck a flying demon square in the eye. The demon fell to the ground, lifeless. Another harpoon struck an orange horned demon in the neck, resulting in a gory death. A lone spear flew and lodged itself in the wall right above Alastor’s head.

All around the city, demons were screaming and scurrying frantically for cover. Several Exterminators circled over the cowering citizens of Hell with mechanical laughs.

“Cleanse Hell of the sinner scum!” rang out on of the angel’s voices.

With a spin and swipe of a harpoon from another angel, other demons dropped dead like bowling pins.

One of the angels glanced over to Alastor. Two other angels glanced over too, all turning their heads, grins glowing.

Alastor hid his shock with a sinister smile of his own. The shock quickly morphed into a new excitement.

“Prepare to meet your second death,” said the angel in the middle.

“Am I supposed to be sacred of you crows?” he asked.

Alastor was surrounded by the three angels hovering above him, spears raised.

His eyes turned into red radio dials and his black antlers grew slightly longer from his head.

“This is going to be quite entertaining!”

The three spears were thrown forward and black tentacles reached and slapped the weapons away.

Just as the harpoons appeared back in the Exterminator’s hands, shadow spirits with red auras circles around the angels, screeching, clawing and attacking them. One angel flapped and flailed, shaking off several spirits by striking them with a swipe of his spear. A tentacle impaled the angel through his gut from behind them. The second angel got his wings torn off by two other black tentacles emerging from portals in midair. A shadow spirit grabbed the angel’s spear and sliced off its owner’s head, falling into one of the portals.

The third angel began to flee, but Alastor grabbed hold of one of the angel’s dark arms. The Exterminator elbowed Alastor and scratched his chest with long nails. Alastor glanced down at the tears and new flowing blood soaking into his red pinstriped dress coat.

He growled darkly in a demonic voice. “That was my favorite suit.”

The Radio Demon soon had the angel in a chokehold with one of his four-fingered gloved hands.

“L-let go, filth!” the angel sputtered with a gasp.

Using his strength, Alastor bashed the angel down hard against the pavement several times.  He soon heard a satisfying crack as his victim’s head split open and the dark horns fell off. He tossed the angel’s body aside for the nearby voodoo imps to consume.

 Tom Trench, a white-haired guy with a facemask and a business suit appeared on screen. 666 News logo appeared in neon behind him.

“Breaking news! Exterminators have invaded Hell once again, with an even greater number than last year. Pandemonium is in the air as Heaven’s army slaughters citizens right and left at random, to reduce the population, as is tradition. Please, for your own safety, stay indoors and on lockdown. If you’re looking to take over new territory, please refrain from doing so during the rampage. It’ll be up for grabs after the purge…if you’re still alive, of course.”

There was a sound of glass breaking from the news room as a spear flew over Tom Trenches head.

“That’s all for today! This is Tom Trench, 666 News at 5. Until next time, have a great evening.”

Tom Trench fled the scene as an LED wearing angel eclipsed the careen and smashed it, causing static.

Alastor stood still for a moment…

“Who ho ho! What a great picture show. Wasn’t expecting that nice surprise during this time. Perhaps I should broadcast my acts of destruction on those Exterminators…”

More spears flew in the air, crackling with electricity. Alastor saw more angels fly through the overhead hole. Alastor glanced at his stinging chest.

“One more act it is then.”

 His vintage microphone staff appeared in his right hand and lit up to life. The eye in the center of the microphone moved from side to side.

“You want to take things even further, do you not?” asked a radio voice from the microphone.

“You know me too well,” he replied. “But then again, you are a part of me, so of course you would.”

Alastor lifted himself into the air with a large tentacle, red voodoo symbols surrounding him. He tapped the staff and it blinked on.

 “Well good evening, little sinners! It’s your one any only host, Alastor, the Radio Demon. Right now, I’m in the midst of a bloody battle between you citizens and the infamous Exterminators. It looks like several denizens of Hell have already fallen prey to the invaders. One angel’s beating up an imp pretty bad over there. Another demon with a spear through her mouth by the store window, doesn’t look too good for her…”

Four angels flew headfirst toward Alastor, only to be knocked back by red energy flowing from Alastor’s body. One unlucky angel got set on fire with a simple snap of the demon’s fingers. The angel let out a rather unholy yell before disintegrating.

Alastor’s hands and microphone were splattered with fresh blood. He fooled with the angels for several more minutes and spoke into his microphone. “Time for some jokes, my friends. What do you call a rejected do-gooder from Heaven?”

Alastor punched a charging angel in the face, sending him flying.

“A fallen angel! Ahhahahaha.”

Several exterminators down below were disintegrating Alastor’s shadow spirits with beams of light from their hands. One angel shot beams of light at the Radio Demon, who dodged each one. Her hair was long and blonde in the back. The angel roared in anger and shot light spears in every direction. Tentacles around Alastor blocked her attacks.

“Wow, that angel over there looks pretty mad…”

She looped and spun herself rapidly toward him, her hand in a fist. Her fist stopped right in front of Alastor’s face. He grabbed hold of her chest tight with one hand and karate-chopped her head off with his other hand.

“…I guess you could say she lost her head! Hahahaha!”

He dropped her headless body and continued swatting angels away like flies.

 After a few more moments, Alastor was getting bored. It was time for the grand finale. He stood on a platform of surrounding tentacles.

He curled his right hand into a fist, sharp pointed nails digging into his now-glowing palm. Several large drops of red blood rained down from his hand, falling to the ground.

Several flaming holes appeared in the air around the flying exterminators. Tentacles wrapped around each of their waists, binding their hands and pulling back their wings. Their harpoons were tossed into the portals by separate tentacles. At least a dozen angels were brought close together, each of them bond by tentacles.

Voodoo symbols surrounded Alastor and his eyes briefly turned dark, displaying radio waves sizzling across them. His black antlers now extended far beyond his head.

Long thick shadows rose from the ground until forming into two swirling shadows on either side of the tied up angels. The shadows slowed, and solidified into two large gray four-clawed hands. The pointed fingernails were yellow, the same color as a spot down the middle of each finger.

Indeed, the large hands were uncovered copies of Alastor’s real hands.

The staff vanished. From a distance, Alastor lined up his own hands with the giant ones, which copied his hand movements.

 Then, inch by inch, the hands closed in.

 The angels stared in fear behind their gruesome masks, struggling to free themselves from their bonds. The remaining angels outside looked on in worry. A few bowed their heads and mouthed silent prayers.

The large curved fingers overlapped seconds after Alastor slowly interlocked his own. An invisible force tried to push the palms of his hands apart. But his hands closed in more, like he was molding invisible clay to his liking.

 “For my final act of tonight, you shall witness…”

The last of the angel’s heads and struggling forms disappeared behind gray fingers and flesh.

With an evil grin and a glow of his eyes, Alastor pushed his own hands together.

The large hands closed with a shuddering shake. Muffled crunching and squelching came from inside. Alastor opened up his hand and the giant ones followed. A shower of blood, bits of body parts, and black feathers rained down to the street.

He finished in a low demonic voice, “…the Exterminators’ crushing defeat.”

Applause erupted from his microphone as the large hands deformed and sent out shadowy creatures which vanished through the last several portals before they closed. The remaining angels shivered and fled through the black hole overhead. Alastor’s antlers receded back to normal size.

 “Well, folks, that’s all for tonight. I hope you enjoyed this remarkable demonstration of my amazing power. This is Alastor, 66.6 FM. Until next time, have a splendid evening…and as always, stay tuned!”

No one said a word as the Radio Demon lowered himself to the ground. The tentacles and portals vanished behind him. He stared at his bleeding hand and wrist. Lightheadedness overtook him. He waved his hand one more time and stepped down into a portal, which soon closed above him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He was back in his lair, a bizarre home-like hideout floating in a void dimension just underneath Hell. It was a place where the Loa and dark spirits roamed.

Using so much power and blood magic had taken a bit of a stretch on his body. Gray circles were under his eyes, barely noticeable. With a yawn, he went into a bathroom to clean his wounds. The two handled faucets were made of gold and shaped like miniature deer heads. A black clawed bathtub decorated with large eyes stood in the center of the room.

After washing up and changing into a red velvet night gown, Alastor wandered past the living room, a room with a blood red rug, a couch, comfy leather chairs, and a fireplace of black flames. Above the mantle on the wall were stuffed deer heads mounted on display of various colors and states of decay. Rifles and several collected angel weapons were displayed in a darker corner of the room. Walking into the kitchen, Alastor pulled out vension deer meat from the icebox and heated it up on the stove. He hummed “You’re Never Fully Dressed” as he cooked.

After he ate his meal, he made his way into his room down the hall. Inside his room was a large bed with a leather comforter and satin red pillows. An old fashioned TV with two antennae sticking out stood nearby. Several different radios were lined up on a polished wooden dresser with a vanity mirror framed with round lights around it. Inside his closet were his suits neatly hung and shoes in a holder. Voodoo dolls resembling himself, Husk, Charlie, Angel and others were lined up in a black cabinet.

Alastor yawned again and climbed up into his bed. He soon had a small relaxed grin on his face. The lights went off after he waved his hand. His eyes dimmed and turned into small red radio dials. The droning sound of a radio powering off briefly filled the room as Alastor slept with his eyes wide open.

    Part 3: “Killing Spree for Three”

 Several years had passed since the Radio Demon had terrorized tons of provinces in Hell. It had started in 1933 shortly after his mortal death, when he fell down into Hell and was granted his powers by the Loas, Voodoo shadow spirits. Alastor, of course, had taken advantage of his new demonic deer-like form and Eldritch abilities, using his vintage microphone staff to broadcast his victories and carnage wherever he went. His sentient shadow had hovered by his side with an ever-present smile on his face like his counterpart.

During his time in Hell, Alastor had conjured looming metal radio towers and stations in the areas he had claimed. Despite being new to Hell in 1933, he quickly figured out the functions of Hell’s hierarchy.

Lucifer and Lilith were the powerful King and Queen, not to be tested with nor disobeyed. It was safe to assume that they knew everything that went on throughout the fiery realm. This was why Alastor never revealed his plans out loud…or if he did, he morphed the meaning into something more superficial.

Sinners, or those that had previously been human, were considered the lowest of the low in terms of class. They were the majority in Hell but also faced various forms of discrimination. Without his powers and charisma, Alastor would’ve fit the lowest sinner category.

Alastor was already familiar with being a societal outcast. Back in New Orleans as a human, he had been mocked and jeered at for being part white and part Creole. It was a time when racism ran rampant and white elites got to enjoy the most luxuries. If it weren’t for is mother and radio career, he would’ve rotted away in jail or in poverty.

 But unlike his previous life, Alastor was much more prepared, and powerful. The Hellborns included imps, hellhounds and other creatures born in Hell, considered “superior” to sinners. However, even the Hellborn were nothing compared to the Overlords, powerful demon rulers with abilities beyond average. Alastor had become an overlord the moment he broadcast his first massacre in a dark gnarled wood.

 It was not uncommon for overlords to not get along and to fight over turf, slaves, drugs and other commodities. Vox, the TV demon, Valentino the Porn Studio owner, and Velvet the doll demon were sometimes called the Three V villains. Vox and Alastor did not get along, for Alastor despised post 30’s technology. Alastor had also defeated Sir Pentious, an inventor snake demon who was previously born during the Industrial Revolution. Though that was so long ago, that he had forgotten who he was fighting with.

 Currently, Alastor had control over a voodoo doll and imp army, could summon shadow spirits at will and create portals to the “other side.” He even created his own interdimensional lair underneath Hell.

 Alas, just those benefits weren’t good enough. Alastor was a man constantly on the lookout for other sources of influence and entertainment. Why would he settle for anything less in his second “life?” Being one of the most powerful demons in Hell was no small feat. He required other allies and servants… those who were citizens themselves. Humming happily with his usual smile on his face, Alastor made his way into the city.

 Under the red sky, monsters and demons of all shapes and sizes wondered the pot-hole covered streets of Pentagram City. A neon Pentagram hovered over in the sky, a symbolic reminder to those below where they were. However, the demons went about their ways like ordinary humans would on Earth. Teen Hellhound females smoked cigarettes while leaning against a wall. A black furry spider demon got into an argument with a zombie over a meth purchase. The zombie punched the spider in the gut and in turn, the spider knocked the zombie’s head clean off. The head yelled swear words as it plopped to the ground.

 From inside a strip club, Angel Dust, a white spider demon was spinning upside down on a pole onstage. He was dressed in nothing but red lacy underwear, his legs spread wide for the viewers to see. Techno music was muffled by the window. Two snakes chased each other loudly and bust into the club, briefly catching Alastor’s attention. One demon spotted the Radio Demon from outside and fainted from terror. Angel Dust puckered his mouth in a kiss and waved at Alastor. Alastor rolled his red eyes in disgust and walked on.

 A vertical neon sign on a street corner displayed a yellow saxophone with white musical notes coming out of it. The words along the side read “Mimzy’s Club and Bar.”

“Mimzy…” Alastor said out loud. “That name sounds very familiar.”

He went up to open the door and walked inside.

 He was greeted by the upbeat sounds of trumpets, drums, a saxophone and even a piano not too far away. Demons wearing cowboy hats and mustaches were playing pool far in the back. Against one wall was a pink neon sign which read “Drinking” over a display of bottles. A humanoid couple dressed in Day of the Dead outfits were smooching in a booth filled with cigarette smoke. A red horned ogre dressed in gray Viking armor was serving up mugs of beer and alcohol to customers sitting on stools at the tall obsidian counter.

 Just then, a short demon dressed like a jester with a stripped hat complete with bells stood up from his chair. He looked up and saw Alastor’s pale grayish face leering down at him. The jester gasped in fright and scurried backward. “It-it’s the Radio Demon!”

The music abruptly stopped and the chatter ceased. Everyone turned to stare at him, fear, anger, and for a few, excitement in their eyes. Alastor snapped his fingers and a spotlight appeared over him.

“Hello, there fellow sinners! How are you all doing this fine evening?”

Nobody said a word.

He chuckled and held out his hands. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to harm anyone. I’ve just come by to relax and have a drink. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Several demons quickly shook their heads and muttered affirmations. Alastor glanced at the jazz band on stage and tilted his head. “Aren’t you going to play some tunes for us?”

The band members started their next song, making sure it was loud and catchy.

Several other demons moved out of the way to let him pass.

Alastor tilted his hand toward his chest. “Ah, such pleasant company here!”

The spotlight faded as Alastor took a seat at the bar.

The Viking ogre turned to look at him.

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

“Surely you know who I am?”

The ogre shook his head, unfazed. The others turned to the bartender, with concerned looks.

“Well,” said Alastor, “It’s nice to meet you, good chap.”

The ogre just grunted in response.

“I’ll have a small black coffee and a glass of Sazerac liquor, please.” Sazerac was one of the first cocktails in New Orleans.

The ogre nodded. “7 souls each.”

Alastor placed 13 dark coins with a small eye on each one on the counter. The ogre scooped them up in his meaty hand and turned to get the drinks ready.

“Heh, heh, he forgot to count them,” Alastor thought.

 His black coffee was soon brought out in a small white mug on a white plate. Carefully picking up the mug by the round handle with several claws, Alastor softly blew over the cup before taking a sip. A satisfying bitter heat filled his mouth. It filled his core with warmth and made him feel more alert, just like it did every morning during his past life. He took more sips and closed his eyes in content. For a millisecond, unnoticed by anyone, his face briefly morphed into his human one: light brown skin, thin pointed chin, brown eyes and short brown hair with a wave off to one side. Small round glasses were placed over his nose. Then, just as quickly, his face returned to his current one: grayish pale, yellow teeth, red eyes, red and black hair, monocle under his right eye.

 After several musical numbers had played, Alastor’s next drink had arrived. Alastor noticed something was not right.

“Uh excuse me?” he asked.

“What?” asked the ogre.

“I asked for a glass of Sazerac. Why did you get me noodle juice?”

He stared at the cup of brown tea on the counter in disgust.

The ogre shrugged. “We ran out of that kind of liquor. That fellow over there ordered the last one.”

He pointed to a shark demon finishing up the rest of his liquor bottle before smashing it on the floor and pushing open the doors.

“Heheheheh…excuse me for a second,” Alastor said.

He stood up and followed the bipedal shark outside. The visitors sitting in booths and chairs could hear muffled pounding, grunts, and stomps coming from outside. At one point, a dark tentacle appeared out of nowhere and then vanished. The gray shark’s head was slammed against the window, slowly sliding down covered in red blood. The demons shrugged, turned back around and continued chatting.

The Radio Demon stomped back into the room, smile on his face but anger in his eyes. The ogre seemed to be whispering something to someone hidden in the back. Alastor spoke to the bartender, composed, hiding his frustration. “I believe we were at the part where I asked you…why did you serve me noodle juice?”

“I already told you, we were out of liquor.”

“How does a bar run out of liquor so suddenly?”

“How should I know?”

“Do you have anything else?”

The ogre occupied himself with cleaning a mug.

“Besides noodle juice?”

A muffled giggle came from behind a set of curtains. He waved his hand and the curtains pulled back. A demon with black wings, horns, and a hat with a domino on it was laying on the floor with several empty bottles of Sazerac around him. He whispered to the ogre who turned around, “You lost the bet, you fucking lard. I told you he’d say “noodle juice” when you gave him tea.”

“I ain’t giving you any money,” the ogre whispered. “I’m the one who pranked the prankster.”

The horned demon stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes. “6.6 souls, hand them over.”

Radio static suddenly filled the air. “You think I’m a joke to you?”

The horned demon turned around and his eyes met Alastor’s before he was plunged down into a portal that appeared from underneath him. The black tentacle monster swallowed the prankster demon in one gulp. The portal closed and Alastor stared at the ogre. He sat down in his seat.

“Kindly fetch me a bottle of Sazerac before I hang you from the ceiling with your intestines.”

The ogre gulped and ran out of the room. He was stopped by a sharp tentacle slicing through his chest. His mutilated body crashed down a flight of stars in the back, starling a waitress who looked like an ostrich.

Alastor tossed the tea aside and summoned a bottle of Sazerac in front of them.

“Sometimes you gotta do things yourself,” he muttered before taking a big gulp from the bottle. Despite his powers, he enjoyed it when people did things for him, like bringing him drinks. The soul coins he had given to the ogre, flew back into his hand and vanished.

  From backstage, a woman was putting the finishing touches of makeup on her face while staring at herself in a large square mirror framed in round lights. She took a deep breath and stood up from her seat. The music stopped and shortly after, a green suit-wearing alien stepped up to the stage and announced, “Our next performer, the marvelous Mimzy!” A woman walked onto the stage. Alastor looked over and his red eyes widened. His smile grew an inch more. The woman was short and chubby, wearing a pink flapper dress and a headband with pink feathers on it. Her black heels tapped against the floor in a rhythmic pace. Her face was white and her large eyes were black with hot pink pupils. She strutted up to the microphone, proud and confident.

Mimzy fluffed her short blonde hair and waved at the audience. Then she sang a lovely catchy jazz song from the early 1900s. Then she finished off with “Down in New Orleans,” much to Alastor’s delight. What a lovely melodic voice she had!

 Alastor remembered Mimzy as a blonde-haired human, she had been a worker at a jazz club in New Orleans and she and Alastor had danced together on stage. He admired her then and still admired her now. They had shared a kiss as humans but Alastor thought of her as an affectionate friend.

That was all before he went insane and killed her in a frenzy.

Mimzy had been sent to Hell since she killed her husband in self-defense and was briefly a prostitute to make ends meet.

 After Mimzy sang and stepped off to the side, another demon came up to the stage. She was tall and slender with sharp teeth in a smile, black eyes, and a large round pink hat with skulls on it covering her head. Several other demons bowed as she walked up to the microphone. She took out her pink umbrella, spun it around in a twirl and did a song and dance number: “Practically Perfect in Every Way.”

 “By the time the fire has burned the restless souls down,

I’ll tell you, yes I can,

No matter the circumstance for one thing you shall know,

My character is spite, shine, spic and span,

I’m practically perfect in every way”

 “For demons say

Each sin and misdeed knows no bounds

To hate is great and patently sound

I’m practically perfect head to tail

If you found a fault, it would be to no avail

I’m so practically perfect in every way”

 “Both prim and proper, graceful and stern

So passive, at peace yet willing to TURN (briefly goes to demon form)

I’m clean and honest, my manner refined

And I wear hats of the sensible kind

I suffer no nonsense and whilst I remain

There’s nothing much else I need to explain”

 “I’m practically perfect in every way

Factually flawless, that’s my forte

Uncanny ladies are hard to find

Unique, not meek, great matters of mind

I’m practically perfect, and never soiled

Killing like a villain with victims freshly boiled

I’m so practically perfect in every way

Well those are my credentials

Perhaps you have a few questions?”

 “Yeah I have one!” called a boar demon. “Did you copy Mary Poppin’s song and just add your words to it?”

The crowd laughed and clapped.

Rosie took a bow. “Yes, so what if I did? I did it for my audience!”

 On Earth, Rosie had been the CEO of a clothing company. She had also danced and met with Alastor as a human. She went to Hell due to forcing her employees to work long hours with hardly any breaks. Stern, elegant and vain, she was a perfectionist and it showed at her job. She did well when it came to organization, dressing fancy…and killing those who stood in her way. In Hell, she was an overlord and owner of an emporium.

Like with Mimzy, she and Alastor enjoyed singing and dancing…and terrorizing others. However, they had only gotten a glimpse of each other during their individual conquests and work.  

But now was the chance for Alastor to warm up to his lovely lady friends.

 Rosie finished her song and took a bow. Alastor clapped enthusiastically. “Bravo, bravo, what an outstanding performance!”

Alastor waved at the two performers who briefly glanced at him.

“Who’s that?” Mimzy asked, curiously.

“One of my fellow overlords. Haven’t interacted with him, though,” Rosie replied.

Alastor morphed into shadow and teleported onto the stage between them.

Both women gasped as Alastor appeared with either hand on their shoulders.

“Why hello, lovely ladies! Care if I join you?” He kissed Rosie’s hand, then Mimzy’s.

Rosie raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you that super-powered radio guy that terrorized half of Hell?”

“Yes indeedy. How do you do?”

“Be thankful that you’re a fellow overlord,” Rosie replied. She stared into his red eyes, “…and I’ll admit, devilishly charming. You name?”

“Alastor.”

“I’m Rosie.”

“Mimzy,” said the other lady, already blushing at the handsome stranger.

“Boo!” shouted a white demon shaped like a fox. “You’re interrupting the show!”

Alastor merely shrugged and laughed, the spotlight now on him. He conjured up his microphone staff in his right hand, which glowed red. “How about one joke before the next dance?”

“No dad jokes, get off the stage!” the fox yelled.

Alastor turned to the booing demon. “What time does my radio show start in Hell?”

“No one fucking cares!” the fox yelled.

“6:06…A-M. But thankfully, you won’t have to listen to it.”

He snapped his fingers and the fox demon exploded in a shower of guts and blood. The other demons stepped away from the mess.

Having the time of his afterlife, Alastor smiled even more and held Mimzy and Rosie’s hands. With a wave of his hand, his usual outfit turned into a red suit, and a white undershirt with a black bowtie. He now had black tap dancing shoes plus a top hat complete with stitches and two small pins sticking out.

“Embarrassing fact, I can’t tap dance,” Alastor said under his breath.

“I can teach you how,” Rosie said.

Alastor’s red eyes curved slightly into arches, his smile genuine. “I’d like that very much.”

The jazz band began to play a catchy tune. Alastor stood between the two women.

“I think you may have heard this song on the radio. Ready?”

Mimzy and Rosie nodded, already knowing the lyrics and familiar music.

 Together the trio danced and sang Alastor’s favorite song: “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile.”

 “Hey, hobo man, Hey Dapper Dan

You’ve both got your style

But Brother, you’ve never fully dressed without a smile!”

 “Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But Brother you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

 “Who cares what they’re wearing

On Main Street or Saville Row

It’s what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe that matters”

 “So, Senator, So Janitor

So long for a while

Remember you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

  After a standing ovation from the audience, Rosie, Mimzy and Alastor sat together in a both. The table in front of them had a white tablecloth over it, though it was smeared with bloodstains. A small vase of black roses was placed in the center of the table.

The brown-haired bipedal ostrich waitress came over and asked them what they’d like to order.

“Rare venison, a side of Jambalaya, and a glass of New Orleans whiskey, 1901,” said Alastor.

“Shrimp Creole with champagne,” Mimzy added.

“Bouillabaisse and a glass of red wine,” Rosie said.

 “Deer meat?” Mimzy asked curiously as the waitress walked away on her long yellow bird legs.  

“Yep. Still got the old hunter in me.”

Alastor mimicked gunshots with his hands and Mimzy giggled.

“I must say, you’re a really good singer, Alastor,” Rosie said, smiling.

“Why thank you kindly, dear.”

“Despite what many may say, even genocidal overlords need some time to unwind and relax.”

“I agree with you there. Say, how did you meet Miss. Mimzy?”

“Strangely enough, at Lilith’s Resist concert,” Mimzy replied. “Rosie wanted to sing a song for Lilith and needed a backup vocalist. Naturally enough, I volunteered.”

“Were you nervous?” Alastor asked.

“Nervous, terrified…and super excited! Me, singing with an overlord and beside the queen! It was too good of an opportunity to waste. Heh, I’m glad I did well on the stage, otherwise Rosie would’ve incinerated me on the spot. People soon heard about my performance and more sinners came over to my jazz club!”

“Oh how wonderful!” Rosie replied. She then sighed. “Nothing out of the ordinary; still beating up my workers with my cattails made from hardened cat tails. (They feel like barbed steel, despite the appearance.) They still moan and complain but it seems to work. Business is business you know. There are those boring overlord meetings, occasionally discussing politics with the Magnes, the whole 66 yards. I bet that someday, my associate Franklin’s gonna get murdered and I’ll be the head of my emporium.”

Alastor laughed. “Oh my, how intriguing. You plan to kill him?”

“No, I’ll let mother nature do the rest.”

“Don’t you mean…stepmother inferno?”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “Puns are not funny.”

“They’re punny to me,” Alastor added. “Such great classics.”

Rosie cleared her throat, “No dad jokes. Please.”

“Aw come on,” Alastor teased in a mocking tone, “I was about to do my “Radio not, here I come” knock knock joke.”

Mimzy crossed her arms. “Spoilers, much?”

 The trio’s dinners had arrived: a large rotten shrimp and clams for Rosie, Creole shrimp with demon bones for Mimzy and a fresh deer head over shrimp, rice, sausage and vegetables for Alastor.

“This is such a splendid meal,” Rosie said, satisfied.

Alastor whipped his face with his napkin. “I agree. Just as tasty as my human victims I ate on Earth. Though I will say, in regards to my…ignorant father, nothing beats the sweet taste of vengeance!”

Mimicking a choking sound, he leaned his entire head backwards with a loud crack and the others laughed.

He repositioned his head back to the front.

  Alastor raised his bottle of whisky as Mimzy and Rosie lifted their drinks.

“To eternal chaos and happiness for us,” said Alastor, “and eternal damnation to our enemies.”

“Here, here!” they all said as their glasses clinked.

 Soon, they had all finished their meals.

Mimzy then took a closer look at Alastor. “You…act familiar. It’s like I’ve known you before.”

Alastor tilted his head slightly. “You don’t say? Because I can say the same about you. I remember this beautiful singer I encountered at a bar in New Orleans. She was confident in her singing and loved doughnuts and desserts?”

“Yes…yes that was me!” she exclaimed. “Heh, being busy in Hell doesn’t give you much time to think about your past life.”

Then her eyes grew wide, suddenly fearful. “You…did you…”

“What?” Alastor asked.

“You were the one will killed me!”

Alastor’s eyes moved off to the side. “No, that was a different Alastor.”

“Phonus balonus!” Mimzy exclaimed in anger. “How many people in New Orleans have such a unique name?”

Alastor shrugged. “A lot, I imagine.”

Mimzy shoved Alastor off to the side and grabbed hold of his fancy red outfit. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“You know… I don’t like…to be touched,” Alastor seethed.

“Answer me!”

Alastor took a breath and removed her hands from his shirt. Memories came flashing back to him. “You were about to call the coppers on me. I knew I’d be caught and my life would be over. I wasn’t in my right state of mind and...”

Alastor stared down at his hands. He hadn’t felt this kind of regret and numbness since he watched his mother die and eat her remains. “Ending people’s lives…it was my only purpose…the one thing I could control besides broadcasting on the radio. I could lash out my frustrations and see results…I felt powerful when I did it, and I still do.”

He paused, unsure of what to say next. He held in his oncoming tears. “I…was holding your body, feeling regret at what I had done…”

Mimzy slowly backed away.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice cracked slightly, despite his smile.

“You just ended my life because you could! I tried to stop you.”

“Sometimes, I wish you would have,” Alastor said softly. Then his regular voice came back, though it didn’t display the usual showiness in it.

“But look at you know. You have a new life here. It’s in Hell, but you’ve made the most of it. You’re a star and everyone knows it. Aren’t you happy with your life here?”

Mimzy shrugged. “It’s still better than death.”

“I didn’t really know if there was going to be an afterlife or not. I…I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.” Mimzy replied. “I lost the Alastor I knew, that day, and…and now he’s gone.”

Tears fell freely from her black eyes. Alastor wiped away her tears with his finger. “I might not be human anymore, but I’m still here. Deep down, I’m still the same entertainer, but more than that, your close friend. I swear by Lucifer that I’ll never harm you again.” He held her hands and she sniffed.

“A-apology accepted.”

Alastor lifted up the corners of her mouth. “Don’t forget to smile, my dear. You’re never dressed without one.”

Mimzy leaned her head into Alastor’s chest, then abruptly sat up, hands on her hips.

“But you owe me…big time. 666 souls, daily groin kicks, plus swimming in the lake of fire.”

Alastor grinned.

“…without extra powers.”

Alastor’s grin shortened.

“So… it’s a deal then?” Alastor asked with a smirk.

She slapped his hand away. “No deals, jackass!”

Rosie’s eyes darted between the two of them. “Okay, this is awkward. Should I leave you two alone?”

“No no no, sweetheart, it’s fine,” Alastor reassured her.

“Don’t forget the midnight overlord meeting tomorrow. Lord Lucifer’s orders,” Rosie mentioned.

“Ugh how boring,” Alastor scoffed. “One of the bad things about my status.”

Alastor and his lady friends talked and enjoyed themselves throughout the night. It was a “dinner date” but it was also a “hanging hang out.” Afterwards. Rosie came up with the name after dinner when the three of them hung other demons from trees.

Soon the three friends embraced (Alastor hugged them, then stood back) and they said their farewells. Although Alastor was tempted to turn them into his slaves, he decided against it. Using his powers on another overlord could prove tricky. And he already made a promise not to hurt Mimzy.

Alastor glanced over at a casino and noticed a black and white cat winning a gambling tournament for the third time in a row. The way the cat moved and gulped down bottle after bottle of booze seemed familiar. A cyclops demon was sitting within the flames of a fireplace inside the building, sewing a quilt.

“Hmm,” Alastor thought. “A Niffty darling…and a Husk of a gambling guy…this should be quite entertaining…”

He finished with a low laugh.

 Next time… “Shady Deals” 1973

 Next time... “Daddy Dearest”

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Fruits Basket 2019 Episode 16: “She Said Don’t Step On Them!”

I feel like I’ve been waiting ages for this episode specifically, and let’s just say it surpassed my expectations!

There’s something surreal and thrilling about finally getting an episode that’s like 99% stuff that wasn’t covered in the 2001 anime at all.

I think this might already be an improvement over this arc from the manga, and it was already one of my favourite bits to begin with, so that probably says a lot about how much I liked it.

Anyway, thoughts under the cut. [Potential spoiler warning for the whole manga]

I guess this is what I do every week, but I want to immediately talk about how this compares to the manga and exactly what material it adapts, since this is the first episode thus far where it’s been unclear in advance exactly how they’d go about it. Every episode thus far has more or less covered one- or two-chapter long self-contained story beats [aside from some rearranging early on], but this is the start of a two-episode arc adapting a three-chapter arc of the manga, so I’ve been wondering how they’d do it.

So basically this episode adapted chapter 39 and the first half of chapter 40. Which is a bit of a jump forward from the last episode covering chapters 25 and 26, but honestly I think it works fine to move Uo’s whole backstory arc up this early. Especially since we know that they’re also going to be adapting Hana’s backstory chapter later in this season, even though it happened even later in the manga, it’s clear that they’re trying to shuffle things about a bit so that the first season of the reboot covers all of the major character introduction/backstory arcs from the first half of the series, which I think is a good choice. This way the second season will be all about introducing entirely new characters and developing old ones.

I was wondering if they might attach chapter 50 to the next episode so that it can keep up a two chapters per episode pace, but I probably should have expected they’d just cover one and a half chapters per episode instead. It should work out for the best, but I guess this means that we won’t be seeing Kureno until season 2. I wonder if they’ll also leave Rin’s introduction to that point too. She gets introduced a little bit earlier than Kureno in the manga, but they’re gonna be shuffling things about later in season 1 anyway so she might also just appear near the start of season 2.

Anyway, that aside, this was a really good and faithful adaptation of the first half of this whole backstory arc. And since it covered less than two chapters, it gave them room to really flesh things out and to add a few things here and there, including an entire post-credits scene. Which was a real surprise, since I don’t think there’s been a single post-credits scene in the whole show before this point. But I’m not complaining or anything, since it was incredible. You’d think it would have been way too jarring after how sad of a note the episode ended on, but I think it did a nice job of just sneaking in some last minute comedy. It was also an entirely anime-original scene, which was nice. It’s pretty similar to a few background moments we get with the delinquent girls, but I’m pretty sure it’s technically still a new scene. I have a feeling that they wanted to give themselves an excuse to throw in some character animation that’s a lot more cartoonish and loose than what this series usually has, and I respect that, lol. It fit these characters really well, and it made the scene really stand out.

It’s also worth noting that back in the New Years episode they also added a scene that gave us a glimpse of Uo’s household, and how her father is a recovering alcoholic. Which at least puts a more positive and hopeful spin on this whole episode.

I’ve always really loved this whole arc from the manga, since it’s one of the best examples of the series’ willingness to take the time to really flesh out it’s supporting cast and to build up this interconnected web of relationships, and thankfully the anime’s really doing it justice so far. We still have another episode to go before this whole part’s finished, but I think it’s safe to say that the next episode should be just as good as this one.

The whole deal with Kyoko having been a delinquent in the past, and even Uo having been one too, have sorta just been running jokes up to this point, but this is where the story really makes it clear that on top of being a running joke, it’s also a topic that it’s willing to seriously dive into and explore the implications of. We haven’t gotten to the part where we really get to know about Kyoko’s own delinquent days [that’ll happen WAY later], but we do get a really interesting glimpse at her post-delinquency life in this episode, and most of all this is where we get all the details about Uo’s time in her gang.

The manga was already pretty explicit and heavy about it, especially for the time it was made, but pretty much everything about the animation and music and voice acting really elevated it even higher, and made the reality of it all even more hard-hitting. The specific type of gang Uo was in probably comes across as a bit more ‘dated’ in the modern day than it’s meant to, but I don’t think it’s super jarring or anything.

I have a feeling that most people getting into this series don’t exactly expect it to end up having a whole arc about how young people can fall through the cracks in society and end up involved in criminal activity before they know it, but that’s just what this series is like, lol.

I think one thing that really gives this whole part a distinctly ‘realistic’ tone is the fact that in several different ways it’s all about looking back on dark elements of your past when you’ve been able to grow past them and become a better and more happy person. Uo is literally narrating this story to everyone as a flashback just to highlight how different she is now and how much happier and more well-adjusted she is with Tohru and Hana in her life, and how she’s channeled her rebellious punk energy into being part of her self-confidence and independence, rather than it all being about her being a vulnerable live wire who just wanted to lash out at everything.

And on the other hand, we find out that the thing that really shook Uo as a child and made her think about her own life and whether or not she was truly happy was seeing how Kyoko had moved on from her own delinquency days and forged her own life and her own family. Like she said, she just learned to relax, and to let it all go, and Uo just didn’t really know how to process that at the time.

It just gives it a more mature and introspective sort of feeling, rather than having it be about characters who are still in the midst of it all. We do get the three delinquent girls who are tailing Uo in this episode. Though they’re mostly just funny background characters, which in it’s own way also spells out how the series isn’t trying to, like, glorify and glamorize the image of deliquency.

But I do still like, on the other hand, how Uo still has largely the same punk aesthetic and attitude going on. It’s just channeled in a more positive way, and she does it just because she genuinely enjoys it, and not out of a need to fit in with a gang. It’s just neat that the story still lets her embrace certain aspects of how she used to be, rather than having her completely abandon all of it and just be conventionally ‘normal’ afterward.

Also, before I forget, they also added a small detail of having Uo’s senpai from the gang watching her leaving Tohru’s house, and I think there were one or two other moments elsewhere that emphasized the way that she was keeping an eye on Uo. It’s not like there wasn’t any of that in the manga, but it was a lot more minor and easy to miss, and it was a bit more out of the blue when we found out later in this arc that she went to Kyoko for help.

And even if it wasn’t exactly a new scene, I really like how moody and atmospheric the scenes at the start and end of the episode with Uo in her apartment were. It’s not the sorta tone this series usually has, but it worked really well. The bit at the very end with Uo’s thoughts and the sound of her father’s TV blending together into overwhelming white noise was a really fantastic touch that helped get across how bad Uo was feeling.

With how this episode managed to be even more intense than the manga version was, I can’t wait to see how the next one goes, since it’ll be the big emotional climax of this arc. And now that we’ve seen how well they’re adapting Uo’s backstory, I can’t wait to see how their adaptation of Hana’s backstory chapter later in the season will be.

Also, on top of all the incredibly good and dramatic Uo content, the cute and fluffy present-day scenes were even more cute and fluffy than they were in the manga. It’s kinda funny at this point how much they’re leaning into the Kyo/Tohru ship-tease, lol. I feel like Kyo’s screen-time in this episode was 90% just him blushing and making a >n< face and honestly I am living for it.

I have a feeling that a lot of anime-only people might not even realize that this is actually the first part of a two-episode arc, rather than a self-contained episode like basically all of the ones before it, since it was still so cohesive and satisfying on it’s own. So I wonder how surprised they might be when they find out that the next episode is a direct continuation of this one.

Anyway this was a great episode and I’m even more excited than ever to see the anime get even deeper into ‘new’ material.

[authorazumarill]

Happy birthday @professor-cinnamon-roll !!!!

Running errands had never been a problem for Maxie. In fact, he quite enjoyed having the day to himself just to run around the city while also being productive. However, this is the first time that he's had to deal with Archie's grocery list. He's read it once, twice, and then multiple times after that and still had no idea what in the world Archie was planning on doing. He didn't even know where he was going to find half of the items on his list.

Oh, the joys of dating a warlock.

He looked at the paper list again as he stepped into the department store. Surely he could knock a lot of these items off of his list with this single stop. He didn't feel like running around the entire city trying to find these inane items. He pulled out a cart and got to work.

Some items were pretty straight forward. Long candles, check. Matches, check. Salt, check. A tablecloth, check. Archie must not want to face any rage that came from destroying Maxie's table. Good. Raw chicken breasts? Weird but okay. At least ten different herbs? Again, weird but okay. Eye of newt? Mazie pursed his lips in thought. Why in the world did that bastard put that on the list knowing damn well Maxie would never be able to find it. Instead of looking up and down the shelves for hours in this hopeless task, Maxie spared his sanity by pulling out his phone and calling the bastard in question.

One ring. Two rings. Then finally, he heard Archie's voice on the other end.

"Hey troublemaker." Maxie could already envision the cheeky grin on Archie's face.

"You're never allowed to make lists again," Maxie stated, getting straight to the point.

"Having trouble finding that toe of frog, huh?"

"Toe of frog?" Maxie knew that his vision was leaving him as he aged, but he's looked the list up and down and didn't see that written down. "Oh haha. Way to pull my leg, jackass."

Archie laughed on the other side of the line. "Christ Almighty, mate. I ain't joking. It should be on the back of the paper."

The back?! Maxie flipped it around and sure enough, there were more things to pick up. Maxie threw his head back and groaned, causing Archie to laugh even harder.

"You didn't see it!"

"I didn't think to look!" he countered. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. The call was originally made to figure out what the everloving fuck eye of newt is, but also, what the fuck is toe of frog? Why the hell would you even add that on the list?"

"I knew you had no idea what they were so I figured you would call to ask and that just means I get to hear your voice."

"Oh, aren't you a charmer." If Maxie wasn't so annoyed he would have found Archie intentions to be endearing. He probably would end up finding it endearing once he cooled off.

Another snicker. "I try to be. But anyway, toe of frog is buttercup and eye of newt is mustard seed."

"Was that so hard?"

"It definitely wasn't as entertaining. Is there anything else ya need?"

"Not from the list. I may need to pick up some migraine medicine after dealing with your shit."

"Or I could brew ya up something that will prevent you from having migraines ever again."

Maxie browsed the aisles, finally finding the 'eye of newt.' Now onto the 'toe of frog' and he could finally wrap up his trip. "No medicine or magic known to man could allow me to handle you without feeling repercussions."

"Give me a lil' credit, love. If I was strong enough to raise ya from the dead, I think I could deal with a pesky headache."

Maxie couldn't really fight that logic. He was never one to keep the fight going after Archie pulls the "I raised you from the dead" card. If it weren't for Archie, Maxie wouldn't be here to stand and fight. He was so lucky to have met him in the bar on that fateful night. "Perhaps," Maxie hummed, a small smile spreading on his face when he found the last of Archie's items. "You may have to hold off on making that elixir tonight though. It looks as though you will be summoning a strong demon with these items."

"A furious beast will be tamed, yes, but it won't be messy."

"It better not be," Maxie warned. "You're in my apartment so you best summon Hell's politest demon."

"I'll try," Archie laughed.

"I'll be home in a little bit."

"Aw, I guess I'll cherish these final few seconds while we're still on the call."

"You have to be the world's biggest sap, you know that, right?" Maxie replied with a cheeky grin of his own.

"You remind me every day."  

"It's because it's the truth. Now goodbye. I'll see you soon. Love you."

Maxie could imagine that doofy grin Archie had on his face. It was the same one he always had when he heard those two oh so special words.

"Love you too, Max." Archie's words were delighted, not to Maxie's surprise.

Maxie was quick checking out his items. The less people saw his demon summoning objects, the better.

///

As soon as he pushed open the door, Maxie was met with the joyful barks of a dog ecstatic to see him again. The dog jumped up and tried to paw his legs for pats, but Maxie was unable to deliver since his hands were occupied with plastic bags.

"Sharpe, not now!" Maxie warned.

"Sharpe!" Archie called as he came rushing into the living room. "Behave yourself and sit." Without protest, Sharpe took a seat on the floor. The black furred beast sat with his tongue hanging out, knowing he was going to get a pat for being such a good boy. His prediction was correct. Not only did Archie pat him on the head, but once Archie took some of the bags out of Maxie's hands, so did Maxie. Maxie kicked the door closed and followed Archie into the kitchen, placing the bags down on the counter.

"You can just leave it," Archie said as she started to get his items out of the bags. "I'll go through them."

"It's not difficult to take things out of plastic bags," Maxie countered.

"Yeah, well, I got another favor to ask of ya."

Maxie had to stop himself from throwing his head back. "And what might that be? Do you need me to find a discarded vampire fang and the shredded shirt of a werewolf?"

"That would be cool but no."Archie stepped away from his project and grabbed a leash lying on the table. "Can you take Sharpe out for a walk? I haven't gotten the chance to do it and it might be best if he ain't here while I'm setting everything up to begin with."

Maxie rested his hands on his hips. "And what about Cami? I should get your dog out of harm's way but my cat can stay?"

Archie held up his hands to show he didn't mean to start a fight. "No. Cami's been staying away from me since he doesn't like me. He shouldn't be a problem. And I promise he stays safe. What I'm about to do won't hurt him anyway."

"What are you planning on doing exactly? I know I've been joking around with demon summoning, but I have a feeling that's not what you're up to."

"Good detective work." Archie winked. "But I can't disclose what I'm about to do just yet. Once I'm allowed to, you'll be the first one to know."

Maxie rolled his eyes before swiping the leash from Archie's hands. "When I get back, your police friends better not be here. Or any magic being, for that matter."

"Even me?"

"You can stay, but you're on thin ice." Maxie walked back out to the living room, noting that Cami was in his usual spot. The fluffy orange cat was curled up all nice and cozy in the recliner. Fleece blankets made the chair even more comfortable. So comfortable the cat didn't even raise his head when Maxie entered. Sharpe, on the other hand, looked thrilled as Maxie came back and hooked the leash on his collar. "I'll be back soon."

"Like, an hour?"

Maxie eyed Archie's suspiciously. That smile was hiding something. "Half an hour."

"Alright." Archie didn't deflate, but the way his shoulders slumped made Maxie think he wasn't too happy with that answer. "Be good, troublemaker."

"You best take your own advice," Maxie hummed, then led Sharpe out the door.

Sharpe was quick to take the lead once they were out of the building. His tongue flopped around and his tail wagged happily as he trotted along. Maxie shoved his free hand in his pocket, his mind feeling free to zone out for a moment as he thought about what in the world Archie could be up to. Knowing him, whatever he was doing was unpredictable. He could be summoning a demon or he could be making a brew to keep the grey hairs from showing in his hair and beard. Maxie would rather take his chances with the demon. He quite liked seeing Archie's age.

He wasn't a fan of Archie keeping secrets from him, though. Archie has been very transparent about everything. About who he was. About what happened that fateful night in the bar alley. About the world of previously unseen magic. He has been the world's best tour guide, and not to mention the most attractive as well. The fact that he wasn't telling Maxie what was up was...curious. Maxie doubted that it amounted to anything, but he couldn't help but keep his suspicions.

After taking a lap around the neighborhood, both Maxie and Sharpe were rather tuckered out. Both were old souls who couldn't party it up like they used to. Sharpe's tail never stopped wagging though. Archie claimed that Sharpe was the best familiar a person could have, but Maxie still couldn't grasp the whole concept of a "familiar." Sharpe was a good boy, best dog, and this was coming from a person who was more of a cat fan.

Upon entering the hallway to his apartment building, he was met with a delightful aroma wafting through the air. It was sweet and nowhere near overbearing. His brows furrowed in suspicion. The scent grew stronger the closer he got to his apartment door, so this had to be Archie's doing. What in the world was he up to? He had to be brewing something.

Maxie unlocked the door and took Sharpe off of his leash. Sharpe dashed in to the now dark apartment. He blended right in to the darkness. Maxie only knew he went to the chair because Cami hissed, very upset that the big dog was trying to be friendly to him while he was napping.

It was a good thing that Maxie really loved Archie, or else he wouldn't have time to deal with these kind of shenanigans. A pitch black apartment? Sweet scents roaming the air? Maxie stepped in and tried flipped the light switch on, only to find that it wasn't working. He flicked it a few times, only to get the same result.

"Archie?" Maxie called out. He instinctively looked toward the kitchen only to find that it was blocked off by something. It looked like one of his black blankets was floating in the air. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Archie emerged from behind the blanket.

"Hey! Uh, you're home a lil' sooner than I thought."

Maxie placed his hands on his hips. "I'm old. When I get tired I come home. Now what in the world are you doing?"

"You'll see here in, like, ten seconds."

"Is a very provocative demon about to emerge from the pentagram you're hiding?"

"I wish," Archie laughed and walked over to him, pressing a soft kiss against Maxie's huffy cheeks.

"Archie, you know I don't like playing these games."

"You'll like this one," he hummed. He waited one, two, three seconds before finally clapping his hands twice. The lights flicked on, but they weren't bright enough to fill the room. They stayed dim, filling the room with soft browns and warm oranges. The gems and sparkling stones on the shelves that filled the living room twinkled a little in the light. The blanket stayed up though.

Archie wrapped his arm around a very confused Maxie, gingerly leading him to the entrance of the kitchen. "I was working on a time crunch, but I say that I did a mighty fine job with all of this."

"With all of what?" Maxie inquired.

With a wink and a cheesy finger gun pointed to the blanket, the blanket dropped and slithered away to the edge of the room and out of their way. The kitchen table, normally cluttered with newspapers and other junk was transformed into something marvelous. A tablecloth draped over the edges. A candle stand sat directly in the middle of the table, supporting three unlit candles. With a snap of his fingers, the small flames flickered to life. Delicious food that looked like it would take hours to make was placed right in front of their plates. Oven roasted chicken was speckled with tasty herbs and juices, along with plenty of buttery rolls and sides that made Maxie's mouth water. Light of the flames bounces off of the half filled wine glasses.  

Maxie stood in curious disbelief. He looked over to Archie, who couldn't help but laugh at the clueless look on the redhead's face.

"We've been through a lot of hell as of late," Archie started to explain. "What, with you dying and our investigation getting deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole and all. We just need a night to rejuvenate ourselves. Plus, you keep on talking about how much you've been wanting to have a fancy date night, so I figured this was the best way to do it since, y'know, killers are lurking everywhere and all that."

Maxie could have gone without the gripping reality of it all, but Archie's sentiment was really sweet. He practically melted into the man's touch. His normally stern and tired face softened with rare, genuine smile. He cupped Archie's hairy cheek with one hand and turned it so he could give him a sweet kiss of gratitude. Now it was Archie's turn to melt into his touch.

Maxie broke the kiss, only to take Archie's hand into his own. "I must say," he said as he led the other to the table, "this is definitely much better than being met with Satan himself in my kitchen."

Once at the table, Archie released his hand and pulled out Maxie's chair like the true gentlemen he was. "I normally save that for the sixth date."

Maxie laughed. His huffiness was gone as he took his seat. The small flames continued to flicker, illuminating Archie's beautiful smiling face with soft tones of orange. Maxie was by no means an artist, but if he painted the view he had right here and now, it would be considered a masterpiece.

The air was soft and sweet. With another finger gun, Archie's phone on the counter began to play soft instrumental music to drive the mood home. This may not have been the fancy restaurant Maxie wanted to visit, but this was much better than that. He also didn't have to worry about the waiter poisoning his drink either.

"You are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me," Maxie admitted. Such a confession took Archie by surprise, but the goofy grin on his face said that he didn't mind it one bit.

"Love you too, Maxie."

[kittycatgundam]

Odd Omens by Alex Hodge

Chapter 1

Angels and demons, good and evil is there ever anything in between a gray area? This question had my head spinning for a long time. Life is just weird most of the time.

I believe it just the way thing work and went on with my life. If only life was that easy. At least my life.

But no my life a pile of complicated shit. I wouldn't wish my life on my worst enemy.

Okay that's enough renting now I'll tell you my story.

For a long time I didn't have a name. You see my earliest memory is of a garden. Not just any garden no. It all started in the Garden of Eden.

Yep, that garden, the one with Adam and Eve.

My parents were both angels.

Wait, I hear you angels can't have kids can they?

I'm not sure myself how it happen but my parents found a way. I wish I could ask but I can't you see they are dead. Now were was I ... oh yeah the garden.

It's this garden were I was born. I bet you think I was born a angel with white wings on my back. You're only half right. My left wing is white but my right is black.

But how I hear you ask. Well, like I said both my parents were angels but my mom end up becoming a demon while she was pregnant with me. Get the picture now.

So I'm half angel and half demon. Cool huh, not really.

If you know anything about heaven and hell they don't like anything that they think might overpower them and that were I come in. You see I was seen as a threat to their power.

I think you might be getting the picture I think.

My parents hide my very existence so I would be safe. Of course any parent hided there kid from danger everyone know that. But how do you hid a kid from a god who can see everything. It's not easy let me tell you. Let's just say god was too busy with what was going in his garden. Untill my parents were found out to be in a relationship.

While I was in hiding I never saw but one of my parents at a time it was safer that way.

So I never went out into the garden you ask. Well you see I did go out to the garden and I made a couple of friends who mean the world to me. If you can call them friends. Maybe they are I'm not sure.

The first I met was a snake. He was in one of the trees. I went up to the snake and pet his head. That right I was not scared at all that the snake might bit me. I never need to be scared at any of the animals in the garden they were all really nice to me.

This snake had beautiful eyes and was so cool looking. He even talked to me. Yep, animals can talk in the garden but then again it might been that I could talk to them I don't know.

"What are you doing here? Who are you?" The snake ask me.

"I live here this only place I know. I don't who am, I don't even have a name you see. I just know I like you and that all I know." I told the snake.

"I see." Said the snake.

After that I would come see my snake friend ever now and then but one day he disappeared. I couldn't find him anywhere but I did found someone else.

An angle was standing by the tree that snake would be in when I came to see him. He look nice and maybe he knew where my snake friend was but I couldn't let him see me or anyone see who I really was so I had to change my appearance into something that was not out of place. I turn myself into a fox.

"Well, hello there little fellow." The angel saided to me.

I growled at him. "I'm a girl not a boy." I informed him.

"Sorry, about that you all look the same so it hard to tell. What a minute did you just speak to me?" He said as he was take aback by a fox talking to him.

"Yes, is that weird that I can talk?" I ask him as I sat next to him.

"Well, it can be sometime but you might be special. So why are you here?" He ask me.

"I'm looking for my snake friend he gone and I can't find him anywhere. Do you know were he is?" I ask him.

"Sorry my dear I don't where he is. You'll found him one day I bet so don't give up." He told me.

Since that day I would go to the tree and talk to the angle. That was untill a thing happen you know what the thing I'm talking about.

On that day is the day my parents die. My dad was with me that day. He had two piece of fruit from one of the trees from the garden. The fruit were the tree the I meet my friends at to talk to them. I didn't know what was going on. He told me to take the fruit and run. This is the last time I would ever see my dad ever again.

I run untill I found another cave to hide in. I ate both of the fruit. I decided the best way for me to survive was to become a fox and that what I did.

The garden was no more, my parents were gone, and friends were no were to be seen. The truth was I was now alone. I thought I would stay alone for eternity.

I was so wrong. You see life funny that way when you think your life will be one way it never stays that way. I did change onto turn my human form sometime. Just looking for the for the best way to survive.

On that note I have many form but I mostly use 5 forms. Forms one: my real form which just my white and black wings along with my actual eyes that are silver in color and look more like cats eyes then human ones.

Form 2: a fox with reddish blond fur coat and a fluffy tail. The form that I'm in most of the time. I usually only change out of this form if it's foxes mating season.

Form 3: swan is a form I don't really use but I love going to a pond or lake and changing into my swan form and going for swim and there also the flying of course I can't forget that. It's the best feeling in the world flying on one own wings. Better then going to some airport and jumping on a plane that for sure.

Form 4: snake form is a form I rarely used. It's not that I hate been in this form not at all but a white opal color snake with silver eyes doesn't seem like very good camouflage does it. Beautiful yes great for surviving nope.

Form 5: my last form is my human one of course. My human form has reddish blonde hair, bright blue normal looking eyes, and freckles lots of freckles. The only thing I change about this form is that fact of look like a man or a woman. I only been a man when it was easier for me to find work. Oh yeah I don't date. The companies great but the rest of it I can do without thank you very much. I do try to save as much money as I can it better to have some stashed away just in case. So I lots of mony in alots of banks. In truth I probably couldn't spend it all even if I tried.

I readed lots of books. Love stories, Mysteries, fun stories, and stories about different cultures. You never know where you'll end up. It helps to brush up on a local customs so you can blend in. My favorite stories are The Swan Princess and The Ugly Duckling.

[galvatronsthighs]

Based off @allsoundwavesarebeautiful‘s concept. I have never lived on/seen a college dorm before and it shows, and also no attempt at giving them ‘human names’ so meh. Also spurred on by an idea from @werdbytes

“FUCK” he hissed.

There was a dull thud and a splash followed by hurried footsteps as a panicked student dived across the room, scrambling to retrieve books and notes from the rapidly dampening floor, paper crunched as he messily clutched the prized results of many, many late nights to his chest. Gasping breaths turned into a relieved sigh as most of the messed up papers at least felt dry against his baggy hoodie. With a grunt, he tried to muster as much anger and annoyance he could into a glare at the cause.

On his desk sat a preposterously fluffy cat, it’s amber eyes were vivid enough he almost thought them to be red on more than one occasion, it’s fur long and messy but incredibly dark yet when the light hit it he could swear it seemed purple. Some light grey accents seemed to stripe it’s rear, tail and form a peculiar trident mark on its head, only contrasted by its bright pink nose. A thoroughly bizarre cat. Cyclonus hated it half the time.

The blasted thing was feral and seemed to loathe everything which only sucked even more as his dorm didn’t allow pets and as if his courses and lessons weren’t stressful enough he came home to an afternoon of keeping this fluffy piece of shit under control. He’d given up on taming the bastard thing it never listened. Yet, he also liked it for that reason he guessed, A little wild and free thing that was there, by him. He’d talk to it at length about what he’s doing and writing and it made him feel less alone. Also helped him pick out errors in his own work and his bored, overworked mind often liked to imagine the meows it made were some sort of conversation happening between the two. But. And that was a big one. He couldn’t leave this feral monstrosity alone. He found it in a dingy alley he’d ducked through to cut time off his journey and there it was, howling like a banshee the moment it saw him but he didn’t blame it, seemed it had gotten its leg caught in some trap and had been injured and with the aid of a towel over the head he’d gotten the fussy creature back to his dorm. There he’d nursed it back to health, really he should’ve taken it to some animal welfare agency but a streak of embarrassment combined with the nervous, paranoid voice whispering that they’ll ‘totally’ not believe him when he says he just ‘found it’ and he’d get slapped with a fine and some sort of animal keeping ban. Not that Cyclonus had planned on keeping any animals anyway, he just didn’t want any marks against his name.

At least he had a reason, unlike that damn Rodimus guy a few doors down. He just had that flaming bear of a mutt with him because he somehow could, or as some kind of flipping joke. Who knows and who cares, the less he had to see that shaggy lump of fur and the half-brained idiot it dragged along the better.

At least his cat could get on the bed with him and not suffocate him under hair.

Oh yes, for all it’s feral behaviour and on-off refusal to be touched he knew this cat would get into bed with him, sit at the end and purr. If it thought it hadn’t been detected it would move up a bit more. Then more. Right up until it curled into the back of Cyclonus’s neck, and there it would stay, warm and happy until the morning when it left it’s spot before Cyclonus woke and sat by its food dish as if it hadn’t been anywhere near him all night. Cyclonus had figured out that if he moved or got up to look at the cat at any time during the night it would quickly stop purring and act as if it had just been walking across the bed and hop off, that was until it had thought you’d gone back to sleep, at which point it’d come back and get on the bed again and restart the process. That and it never left him alone, it always insisted on being in the same room as him. It could try all it wanted to be ‘mean’ but it also hadn’t grasped subtlety.

It was warming up to him at least, that should’ve made things easier. Should’ve. Every time he seemed to make any progress with keeping the cat in some kind of control it immediately rebelled as if it realised it was ‘slipping’.

Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone, and give it to his mom, she could look after it and home it while he would be confident that the animal was being looked after rather than running around on the streets.

He slipped the last piece of his notes into a nearby drawer, someplace where the feline wouldn’t be able to get its grubby mitts on them.

It was getting dark and Cyclonus decided that bothering with any more note-collecting/organising could be done later. For now, it was time to clean off before bed.

It was the perfect time, the showers were always empty around now, with other students either going out with their mates or studying and seeing as Cyclonus just stopped studying and hadn’t talked to Scourge in a while he was going neither of those routes.

With his desired towel and kit under one arm Cyclonus, he made one look over his shoulder to check the location of a local nuisance, the cat wasn’t directly visible but was probably hiding under his desk, dark fur blending it in within the shadows. Good enough.

He shut the door as quietly and quickly as possible and made sure to scurry through the corridor as quickly as possible, lord knows Rodimus’s mutt would start growling at him if it sensed him nearby for too long.

It always felt oddly exhilarating to rush over to the shower building in the dead of night with nothing but the cold air and stars for company. The showers were a bleached white with stains on many walls, desperately scrubbed away by those who cared enough to try and keep it clean, only for more to appear thanks to someone coming back a bit too sloshed to think straight or to the younger fellows who thought it hilarious to write along the walls.

Either way, he only needed a quick wash over, to get rid of the stale grime and sweat of a day spent hunched over books and blearily listening to his teachers. Kup was a fascinating man with great tale’s but, boy, they went on for a while.

The clunking of the pipes and gentle rumble of the heating system filled the room as the water flowed. The sound drowning out anything else, such as the door creaking and thumping again quietly as Cyclonus’s follower slinked in after him. Slit pupils homing in on him in one of the cubicles, still valuing the minute bit of privacy the cheap curtain gave him, as it settled on a box to watch.

He lost time in the shower, he always did, how could he not, showers were pure dissociation tools, they sucked down your time as your mind floated in whatever void it found itself soaked in.

He sighed, he thought, well it seemed the pipes must’ve as he turned the water flow off. They really needed someone to come look at these pipes. He let his gaze linger on the water control a little as he pulled the curtain back.

He stood with the curtain open for a moment as he acclimatised to the non-shower air, still looking back, when another noise happened. Except that noise could not have been made by a pipe. It was the kind of noise someone makes when they breathe out of their nose sharply, eagerly.

Turning around, all attempts at keeping quiet at this late hour vanished, he shrieked, loudly.

Perched on a box, watching him, was some person. He’d never seen them before and they were hunched over watching him. His wild movements lead him to slip on the already slick floor, curtain pinging off its rings as he grabbed it in a vain attempt to keep himself upright while simultaneously trying to bunch it up and cover up his junk. The person, however, seemed amused but at least turned away.

Their hair was wild and fluffy, rushing past their shoulders, shoulders which were speckled with what seemed to be purple freckles. Their nails were claws and a body that was chubby which rolled lightly with their pose. Their arms were in front of them, this fact being the only saving grace to the fact they were buck naked too, breasts pressed together between their arms shielding most of them and their hands thankfully being just in front of anything else.

“WHO ARE YOU!?” Cyclonus hollered as soon as he’d smacked against the floor, one hand covering his privates while the other groped at the walls aimlessly.

This got the person's attention and they turned back to him, looking confused.

“You… you weirdo!” He yelped needlessly.

It was their turn to yell and jump now, they looked even more confused before catching a sight of themself, which, for some reason, caused them to yell and leap into the air and struggle through the fall to hide themselves behind the box they were on.

“Who are you and what do you want?! Creep!” Cyclonus gathered up some courage after watching the other person yell as if he hadn’t done the same thing himself. His empty hand helped him up as he balanced against the wall, the other did not budge an inch from his crotch.

“It’s… I.. oh.. Ah” the nameless one didn’t answer him but tried to shuffle along the floor away from him, “This wasn’t…”

“What are you doing here!?” Cyclonus yelled, feet dancing back and forth as he had no idea which step to take next.

“Wh.. bhu… I followed you” The person seemed far more interested in their own hands than anything going on around them, they waggled their feet and stared at them incredulously, “I was stuck...”

Quickly the person surged to their feet and Cyclonus tensed up, nervous at the weird persons next action, which was a good reaction it seemed as they rushed over to him and grabbed his shoulders.

“I was stuck!” They yelled happily, shaking him energetically, “I was stuck for so long! I couldn’t! I couldn’t change!”

“Change!?” Cyclonus had to look over their head, trying not to glance at their unabashed nudity, “You were just sat there watching me shower! You weren’t stuck at all!”

“You don’t geeet iiiiiiiit!” They shook him more, “Hands I have them again! I have them! You don’t understand! Paws are so bad to hold with! So bad for so long!”

“O-ho-ho-kay! Okay” Cyclonus tried to use his free hand to push them away but couldn’t bring himself to grab them as he wasn’t looking where he was going, “You’re clearly high on something, you need to-”

“Go home, probably, I… I don’t know where it is…” Cyclonus groaned at this reply, “I definitely don’t know after you took me to an entirely different part of town!”

“I didn’t take you anywhere!”

“You fixed my foot!”

“I didn’t fix anything!”

The person decided this was the moment to pull him closer, drawing a sharp gasp from Cyclonus as the weird person's chest pressed against him, but had the effect they wanted as he looked down at their face, noting the height difference but more interested and stunned as their eyes did indeed go red. Pupils thinned and their nose upturned slightly as it pressed back into their face, their upper lip swelled a little as thin whiskers sprouted out. Their face merged into that of a cat.

“I just… I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t want to be near anyone” Their face moved in odd ways as their now-feline lips warped to make the human sounds. There were a few breaths of silence before they hugged him, clinging tightly to him as if the physical contact was the only thing holding reality in place.

“You’re the cat…”

“Yeah”

“You… shapeshift”

“I kinda like calling it transforming, but yeah”

“You’re naked”

“So? You are too”

“This is a public place”

“T… take me home?”

“WHAT” Cyclonus did manage to break out of their grasp this time to look them in the eye, their face having reverted back to something more human by now.

“Yes” They righted themselves up and tried to put on a more authoritative pose, “You did take me home before and I don’t know this area”

“I thought you were a cat…”

“And that changes...?”

Cyclonus stuttered a bit, no idea what the hell was even going on let alone what to do next, running on about 4 hours sleep over 48 hours was probably the only thing keeping him from really losing his mind at this. “I don’t know your name?”

“Galvatron, you can call me Galvatron” They finally introduced themselves.

“R… right… and what were you doing watching me shower?”

“OH! O..oh, I…” Their face went bright red, hands only just raising a little to shield their body, but not very well, “I think it’d be better to talk in your room, this is a public place, after all, someone could walk in on us”

“Walk in on us? You make that sound…” Cyclonus didn’t finish what he was saying as he thought about how two people naked and half-embracing in the showers usually meant one thing and he started going as red as Galvatron.

“F… fine, just… use my towel to cover yourself… and maybe not watch me change… again, it’s weird now I know you’re not a cat-cat”

“That’s agreeable”.

[zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen]

‘Amber’

Blake sipped on her tea, the flavor of the steaming hot drink taking over her senses. Orange hibiscus tea was one of her favorites, and the Beastly Beans coffeehouse in Menagerie made the most stellar blend she'd ever tasted.

It tasted especially exquisite when her favorite barista prepared it. The chameleon girl stripped her frock away and sank into the booth. "Gods, it's great to sit down!" Ilia tiredly cheered. The evening rush had taken it out of her, and she could hardly wait for a superb smoothie and some alone time with her favorite lady.

"But I can't see your body when you're sitting down!" Blake complained, grinning at Ilia. Ilia rolled her eyes at the comment.

"You'll see everything you like when we get home, darling." She smirked at her girlfriend. She felt so lucky to have a girl like Blake. She would sit in the shop for half of Ilia's shift or longer some days, tapping away at her Scroll when a new poem came to her mind. Blake was also good for business, as she bought cup after delicious cup of tea.

And she lifted the spirits of Kobalt Wolfsbane, Ilia's usual co-worker. The jokes never ceased from the wolfy boy when Blake and Ilia walked through the doors.

"So Fluffy has been pretty quiet today. What's that about?" Blake asked with a chuckle. Ilia shook her head.

"I think he's having some home problems. Or perhaps boy issues. He and Cynnamyn have been a bit rocky lately, but Kobalt isn't much for talking about it." Ilia felt bad for her poor wolf boy. Then again, she knew Cynna could be difficult. It seemed to be in the nature of bug faunus, but this particular spider had enough attitude for him and his boyfriend.

"Yeah, I can see that. I hope things get better for him," Blake sighed as she sipped her tea. "Ilia, you make the tastiest tea ever!" She cheered, making Ilia blush a bright red. "HAH I MADE YOUR WHOLE HEAD CHANGE COLOR!"

"You're always so surprised by that, Kitty Cat. It happens sometimes when you're a chameleon. I'm sure you do not entirely voluntary cat stuff, too."

"Most definitely! I went to school with this girl that used to make all sorts of cat jokes about me!" Blake returned. Ilia sighed at the thought.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you..." Ilia sighed. She knew all too well what that was like, going to school in Atlas.

"Don't be. She was never malicious about it! She made puns about everyone." Blake waved a hand dismissively and smirked. "She was smoking hot, too, so that didn't hurt her!" Ilia nearly spat out her smoothie at Blake's remark.

"You forgave her just because she was hot? That's good information for me, I guess!" Ilia smirked, taking another quick sip of her smoothie. She hoped she didn't get a brain freeze. That would be super embarrassing.

"Well, Ilia, that girl ended up being my first girlfriend. If you put it on me as well as she did, we'll probably never argue in the first place." Ilia deadpanned at her girlfriend's reply. Something came to her mind just then.

"Is she the one 'Dragonfire' was about?" She asked. Blake's upper ears wiggled as she nodded. Ilia exhaled excitedly. "Gods, what a woman!" Blake giggled at Ilia's face. She had mentioned Yang to Ilia before, though they'd never talked about exes that much. Blake knew Ilia hadn't had that many good exes, though there was a girl the chameleon spoke highly of all the time. A feisty orange haired girl with a cat's tail.

That's how Blake found out that Ilia had a thing for cat girls.

"She was pretty amazing. Then she moved away after school finished, and we found out the distance thing didn't work out so well." Her left ear folded downward. "Say, you never mentioned what happened between you and Neon."

Ilia's face fell, the memory crashing into her mind like a tidal wave. "Well, she sort of realized she didn't like women as much as she thought. Some boy with a trumpet came and swept her off her feet, and we were suddenly over." Ilia sighed again. "I feel like she hadn't really figured herself out when we got together."

"That's terrible! I thought you said she was the best girlfriend you'd had before me!"

"She was, but is the best of a bad batch really that great? The others were completely awful to me! One even used me for revenge purposes!" Ilia saw Blake turning bright red with rage. "Calm down, love. I have you now, the best girl I could ask for. I mean, you write poems for me and hang out with me at my job. Who else has ever done that?"

"You're pretty incredible, too! I love when you change colors from your emotions! Especially when you're happy!" Blake cheered. Her girlfriend wasn't sure how to take that compliment. She'd never noticed herself doing such a thing. She changed when she needed to blend in or when Blake asked her to show off, but she thought she had it mostly under control.

"What color is happy? I haven't been that way many times in my life, so I never paid much attention..." Blake thought she might cry hearing that.

"When you're happy, so far as I've noticed, you turn gold. Or, perhaps amber is a better description. Amber is the color of your energy, a shade of gold playing naturally... OOH!" Blake produced her Scroll and typed out that line, saving it for use in a poem. When she looked up, Ilia's skin had changed again. She was now a glimmering amber hue, her scales shining like flecks of pure gold. "See? Amber!" Blake snapped a photo with her Scroll before Ilia realized what she was doing, otherwise, she might have tried to block her face with one hand.

Blake chuckled as she leaned across the table to kiss her reptilian squeeze. Ilia blushed bright red and kissed back.

"DAS GAY!!" They heard Kobalt yell from behind his counter. Blake paid him no mind, though Ilia shot him a finger.

"I should hope so, Kobalt. That's how I like it!" Ilia retorted. Blake burst into laughter.

"You guys are so cute! Nauseatingly cute, even. Another tea, Miss Belladonna?" The boy with the fluffy wolf ears asked, his left ear wiggling.

"Sure, but to go, I think. I think Scale Face is ready to leave," Blake told him, winking at Ilia.

"Shut your face, Kitty Cat!"

"Excuse me, that's Panther when there are people around!" Blake sassed, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"I thought that was for when people weren't around..." Ilia fired back, giving Blake the eyes she always loved seeing.

"You two are disgusting! Get out of my coffeehouse!" Kobalt joked when he returned with two to-go tumblers. Blake's was filled with her favorite tea while Ilia had herself another smoothie. Ilia threw him a handful of Lien as she and Blake stood. "NOICE! This will probably be the best tip I make the rest of my shift!" The wolf boy cheered. Ilia walked over and kissed Blake's cheek, and Kobalt pretended to be repulsed as the two of them walked toward the exit.

\/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/

Day Two: Team RWBY Member

I’ve written about everyone else for this day, so I figured it was Blake’s turn. Also I wanted to write more of my ‘Blake as a Slam Poet’ AU. This would be a sequel to ‘Bloody Poetry’, I suppose, in which Blake and Ilia have seen more of each other and become a thing.

I kinda hope my fellow Bees go full Wasp when they read this, but that’s just my petty showing. What color is petty? I have no idea.

ANYWAY ILIA IS MY FAVE SUPPORT CHARACTER AND I HOPE THERE’S MORE OF HER! And I hope she gets herself a cute girlfriend. (That isn’t Weiss) (Seriously who came up with Prismatic Ponytails? That’s like the rarest of rarepairs. Have they even been on the screen together? It’s cute but it doesn’t make sense. Oh well, I’mma shut my face now.)