#and our leaders came by and chose names by random and said that that meant those people were dead

[theamazingannie]

Tried to lay down to sleep and my mind immediately went “what if your entire family was brutally murdered?” so I guess I’m just not sleeping tonight lmao

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (1)

Note - i’ve been wanting to write something like this but it’s already been many times and done so well that I was discouraged a little bit but whatever, here wo go!

All parts in the master list

--

You knew this was something that happened on occasion, but you’d been traveling your entire life and had yet to encounter it. 

Now that you were in your twenties with plenty of window seat time under your belt, you assumed it was one of those things you only heard about. It was one of those things that happened in movies and would never be something you had to deal with. 

Unfortunately, you were wrong. 

*

You had been with the Flames for a little over two years. As an assistant to the coaching staff, you spent a lot of time with both those guys and the players. It was strange at first but you fell into your position easily and began to form bonds with everyone. 

Everyone except a certain winger famous for starting shit, Matthew Tkachuk. 

Matthew did not like you from the moment he met you and he had never been afraid to show it. Most of the time he completely avoided you, but when he was forced to be in your presence and speak with you, his words were short and he made little eye contact. 

It was childish, especially coming from the potential future leader of the team, but you didn’t have any other choice than to just accept and tolerate it.

*

 As soon as his words reached your ears, you began to panic. The Flames team got along great so it was weird that their head coach was purposely calling out potentially problematic roommates. You felt strangely exposed as you listened to him read off the rooms and give out keycards.

Well, fuck. 

You silently cursed to yourself as you heard your name called out next to your new roommate. Unlike you, he didn’t care to hide his disdain.

“Really? Out of everyone?!”

“Yes, these are random and the hotel is doing what they can to accommodate us.”

He immediately put on his game face and went to grab the keycard, not bothering to acknowledge you as you grabbed yours.

*

You could share a room with Matthew Tkachuk. Sure, he was a complete asshole that had always been mean to you but you were a professional and a grown ass adult and you were not going to let an immature hockey player get the best of you. 

It was only for 5 days, barely even a week if you squinted at a calendar. You could do this, fuck how he felt. 

“Let’s just get this over with and chose our beds,” Matthew rolled his eyes as he let the two of you into your new room. 

Oh. 

Oh, well.

Oh, well, shit.

The room was smaller than you expected and contained exactly one bed.

You bit your lip and closed your eyes, expecting a temper tantrum from Matthew. He had never liked you and you were far from his biggest fan so it was going to be hard for the two of you to share a bed. 

“Fuck,” he rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his curls, “there’s not even a couch in here to sleep on.”

“Nope,” you whispered, waiting for him to get angry.

“Pick your side of the bed. We have an early skate so I know you have to be up even sooner than I do.” 

You were surprised by how calm he was being. Matthew waited in the room while you changed in the bathroom and gave you plenty of space as you crawled into the bed the two of you would share for the next several days. Sleep came easily to both of you. 

*

“Chucky’s in a mood today,” one of the other assistants observed as the two of you watched him slam a teammate into the boards harder than he probably intended, “what did you do?”

“I don’t think I did anything? Why would you say that?” 

“I heard him bitching about having to share a bed with ‘the shrew’ and how her alarm went off way earlier than he planned to wake up.”

“Seriously? The shrew? It surprises me that he knows that word, I’m not convinced he’s even able to read.” 

“That’s not nice,” the smile on his lips prevented you from taking him seriously, “he’s highly educated, probably.”

The two of you shared a laugh, unaware of the eavesdropping ears lingering in the tunnel. 

*

Morning skate was brutal. Matthew was in a bad mood and taking it out on the guys, which rippled into everyone on the ice sensing his irritation and playing like garbage. The best thing about the morning’s practice was the end and you could see it on everyone you made eye contact with.

The Flames held a players only meeting after the skate and you happily ran back to your room to catch up on your sleep. It was nice to be alone. No brooding, grumpy Matthew meant you could fall into bed without having to worry about invading anyone’s space. 

You passed out as soon as your head hit pillow.

*

Not even the slamming of your door, on purpose, pulled you out of your slumber.

“Hey,” you woke up to Matthew gently shaking your shoulders, “wake up.”

“Fuck, what the fuck? What time is it?” 

“It’s almost two in the afternoon. We have a few hours off before we need to practice, shrew.”

Shrew. Absolutely-fucking-not.

“I am in no mood to deal with your bullshit, Tkachuk.”

“Oh? I figured you might want to rip on my reading comprehension a little more before you decided to really tell me off.”

Your cheeks lit up with a red blush, “you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Guilt fell over you like heavy rain. Making fun of Matthew being an asshole was easy when he wasn’t in earshot but hearing him call you out on what you said about him had you feeling shitty.

“I know you can read, that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t a good one.”

You should have probably taken the easy way out and apologized. The problem was that he was such an asshole and you were tired of dealing with it, with him. 

“You’re a dick, Matthew, you’re a complete fucking asshole and you have been since I started working with you two years ago. I have been nothing but polite this entire time but you choose to treat me like I’m a subhuman, so yes, I questioned your reading comprehension, because that was the kindest insult I could give at the moment. You have no fucking idea what I really want to say.”

He removed his backwards cap and ran a hand through his curls before replacing it, “do your worst.” 

“Do my worst? You sure?”

“Absolutely.” 

“Fine, I don’t know much about you but based on my experience with you these past two years, I can confidently say that I hate you. I hate you, Matthew Tkachuk. Your words have caused me to cry alone in my apartment more than a few times. You have been so fucking mean to me these past 24 months that I don’t even feel it anymore. Your insults go in one ear and out the other. You’re a great hockey player, but you’re a terrible person. If I never saw you again, it would be too soon.”

Silence filled the room, the look on Matthew’s face was unreadable. What seemed like days passed before he turned and left the room without a word. You felt the weight that had been resting on shoulders for the past two years finally lift away.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Innocence

Genre: Mafia AU, Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Warnings: violence, guns/gun violence, cursing, violence against women, home invasion

Synopsis: When you end up getting caught in the crossfire, you’re brought to the local mafia leader who promises to rehabilitate you. Although, falling in love you certainly wasn’t part of the plan.

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"Shit, she's bleeding out," someone said from a few feet away.

"What? Who?"

"I don't know some random lady."

You moaned in pain as a pair of boots approached you and eventually, you could make out the fuzzy face of someone crouching over you. You couldn't tell where the pain was coming from, only that you felt it rippling through your body

"Fuck, Namjoon doesn't like when innocent people get hurt. We've gotta take her back with us."

"What? Isn't that just part of it? Innocent people get caught up in this shit all the time."

"Not the way Namjoon does it, come on, come grab her legs."

As one of the men looped his arms underneath your armpits, you felt one final jolt of pain that felt like it was ripping your body apart before everything went black.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Is she going to live?" one of the men who'd brought you back asked.

"Yes, barely," Namjoon said, his face firm and his voice steadier than normal. "You're sure it wasn't one of your bullets?"

"All of our bullets were accounted for, sir."

Namjoon nodded. "If I find out either of you are lying, you know the consequences?"

Both men nodded in understanding.

The doctor emerged from the room where you were. "She's waking up, sir. I'll leave the rest to you. Call me if she starts showing any concerning signs."

Namjoon nodded and waved the doctor off and entered your room.

If it weren't for the drab gray appearance of the room, it would've looked like you were in a normal hospital room. An IV in your arm and white sheets pulled up to your chin. Your eyes were still closed, but your heart monitor was beginning to slowly pick up from it's near flat line when you'd arrived.

He pulled a stool from the corner of the room and sat next to your watching as your chest moved slowly up and down. The doctor had extracted the bullet and cleaned the blood from your skin and clothes. Your bloody jeans and sweatshirt had been washed and were folded on a table in the corner of the room. Your hair was still dirty, but the blood washed from its tips.

You looked younger than when he'd first seen you and it only made his chest ache. He had no idea who you were or what you had been doing in that part of town, but you certainly didn't deserve the bullet in your shoulder. It had nearly missed your collarbone and the important blood vessels, but you'd still lost enough blood to be anemic.

Your eyelids began to flutter and Namjoon sat still as he met them.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

You opened your eyes and were immediately met with a pair of unfamiliar brown ones.

"Hello," the man said. He sat with his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped together.

Other than the fact that you had no idea who the man was, the more concerning thing was that you had no idea where you were and you were seemingly alone with him. If you had to take a guess, the room almost seemed like a storage room of some sort; a cement floor and shelves lining all but two of the walls. They were mostly empty except for vague medical supplies.

"Where am I?" you asked, the beep of your heart monitor beginning to quicken.

"You're safe." The man sat up straighter, but his eyes never left you. "I'm Kim Namjoon. What's your name?"

You eyed him suspiciously. "Y/N."

"Just Y/N," he asked, his eyebrow arching.

"For now."

He chuckled before getting up and heading for a sink in the corner of the room. He filled a glass and walked back over to you with a pill in his hand.

"Take this," he said, placing the pill in your palm and holding the glass above you for when you were ready. You stared at him for a moment before glancing down at the pill. It looked normal and based upon the fact that this man was most likely the one responsible for saving your life, he would have no reason to kill you now, right? "It's an iron supplement. Cause you lost so much blood. You'll have to take them every day for a couple months."

You nodded and placed the pill in your mouth and swallowed it down. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you could trust Namjoon, at least that he wouldn't kill you.

"Now, I need you to tell me everything you remember from the night you were shot."

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

You were on your way home after work. You'd just graduated and started in an entry-level position at your dream company, but it left you exhausted and overworked. It was already nearly 11 and you knew you should've allowed your co-worker to drive you home, but you didn't know him well enough yet to trust him with where you lived.

You normally felt fairly safe walking through the city by yourself. You'd grown up there and you knew the areas to avoid, but you were tired and decided to take a short cut through a rougher neighborhood.

You took out your headphones and increased your pace so that you were walking faster than your normal pace, but wouldn't look too scared or suspicious.

For the first ten minutes, everything was normal, but as you neared the end of the neighborhood and the beginning of yours, you heard yelling. You looked around and couldn't find a source, so you kept walking and as you crossed an alleyway, a man ran into you, knocking off your feet.

You sat up, your vision a little blurry and your head still coming off its daze. As your vision came back, you stood up and braced yourself against the wall. That's when you looked up and the shot came. You couldn't see who shot you, if they meant to, or if it was just an accident. Heck, you couldn't even tell which direction the bullet came from.

You fell to your knees and eventually on your back. At first, the pain was unbearable, you felt the blood pouring out of your shoulder, although couldn't tell if it was from the back or front. But, eventually, the pain ceased and your eyelids began to feel heavy. It was soon after the man lifted you that a final burst of pain caused everything to go black.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"You don't know who shot you?" he asked. The darkness in his eyes as he asked the question caused the pain in your shoulder to flare.

You shook your head. "It happened too fast."

He nodded, before getting up and leaving the room without another word. You then only saw strangers as they came to give you meals or check your wound which still had a long way to heal.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Morning," Namjoon said, in the exact same cadence he said it every morning. He laid a tray over your lap which had a spinach and cheese omelet, toast, and a rotating menu of meats. Today was two slices of bacon. And, of course, on the side was a pair of iron supplements.

"Think you can eat it all today?" he asked. While you needed the nutrients, you had basically no appetite most of the time, but today, the toast was spread with a red jam it usually wasn't, which made you bite into it immediately. Raspberries. Your favorite. "Why don't you tell me about your job today?"

He pulled a chair to your bed and flipped it around and sat on it backward, allowing his arms to dangle off the top. The two of you had promised to tell each other something about each other each day. You knew it was a way to get information out of you and monitor your well being, but you didn't really mind. It started to become one of your favorite parts of the day.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."

He stiffened at that. You had your suspicions that Namjoon's job was less than legal considering how you ended up meeting him. You just weren't sure exactly what it was he did. Was he some sort of drug lord? A gang member? A pimp? Your stomach turned at the possibilities.

"Okay," he said. "You just have to promise that you won't be scared of me."

"O-okay."

He nodded, although you knew he caught the shaking in your voice. "You first."

"I—uh—I work for a non-profit that benefits women who have been victims of violence," you said. "I help process all the donations and make sure all the finances match up. I was an accounting major in college, but I didn't really feel like doing other people's taxes for the rest of my life. I want to feel like I'm making some sort of difference. Even though I don't make as much money, I feel like it's worth it."

"You are," he said. "You are making a difference."

Silence filled the room for a few moments, but it wasn't awkward or tense, it was simply you and Namjoon in your own thoughts. His eyes locked on you and your eyes unconsciously noticed the dimples on his cheeks that appeared and disappeared as he talked.

"All right, you promised," you said. "Your turn."

Namjoon's posture straightened and he cleared his throat. "Oh, well, I'm sort of the leader of the local mafia. I mean, it's not quite as nefarious as it seems. It's mostly just money laundering and stuff like that."

"But, you still kill people?"

"I never have. My men do only when necessary."

You gulped and pulled your eyes away from him. "Then, why did you save me?"

"Because I don't like innocent people getting hurt."

"How did this happen? How did you become the leader? You--you just don't seem like the type."

"My family," he said. "They kind of started this whole thing. I went to college and everything, but ultimately, I didn't know how to be anything else."

"You know you could always leave it behind. You're the leader. You could end all of this."

"It's not that easy. If I end it, I immediately become a target or someone would start it back up. And, let's just say, you don't want this kind of operation falling into the wrong hands. Many wouldn't have batted an eye at you getting shot."

"Don't think you're the hero here. Whether or not it was your men who shot me, whether or not you chose to save me, I still got shot because of you."

Namjoon's jaw stiffened and he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said. "Although, it's not quite as easy to just leave."

"What did you study in college?"

"Huh?" He paused. "Literature and Writing."

You smiled. "Why don't you read to me?" you asked. "I never really got to take any literature classes in college and I missed them. I still have longer to recover. You could read to me whenever you wanted to."

"I'd like that," Namjoon said, his dimples appearing and lighting up his face.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

You laid back with your head and neck pressing back against the pillow as you closed your eyes as Namjoon's voiced lulled you asleep. You knew it wasn't just his voice and the way his voice took on a smooth rhythm as he read or the way his voice grew hoarse eventually. The doctor had slowly been weaning you off of the painkillers, while the pain wasn't as intense as before, it still exhausted you.

He was reading from Jane Eyre a book you certainly hadn't expected Namjoon to choose. The gothic element was enough to send shivers down your spine, but not keep you from falling asleep.

You were halfway through the book now and you knew you would never finish. Your condition was improving and you barely needed pain medication anymore. The doctor came once a day and today he had told you that he thought you'd be able to go back to your own apartment and life the next day.

Namjoon stopped reading and it jolted you out of your half-slumber.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I thought you were asleep."

You opened your eyes and shook your head, although your eyelids were only half open crescent moons and the way you were forcing them open made Namjoon chuckle.

"You're tired, anyway," he said. He closed the book and stood up from his chair. "Goodnight. Sleep well."

You watched as Namjoon walked towards the door and felt something in your chest. "Wait," you said. "This is the last night and we haven't finished the story."

"Y/N, we still have half the book left. There's no way--"

"Just stay with me tonight," you said. "I'll have to go back to being in my apartment all alone tomorrow and I don't know. I've enjoyed having you around."

"Y/N--" Namjoon said. "You're just--this isn't right--"

Namjoon's eyes met yours for a second before he ripped them away and walked out of the room with the book still in hand.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"She--she asked me to stay with her," Namjoon said. He sat in his desk chair with his feet resting up on the desk, something he only did when he was thinking deeply.

"Is that a bad thing?" his right-hand man, Yoongi asked. "You like her, right?"

"Yes, but Yoongi, she hasn't been out of that room for weeks. She's only seen me and the doctor with only a couple of exceptions. It's just Stockholm Syndrome."

"We didn't kidnap her though. She could've left if she wanted."

"Yes, Yoongi, but why would she? She would've had to pay for medical care elsewhere. Even if we didn't mean to, we trapped her here. She's hardly seen anyone but me. Of course, she'll become attached."

"It's not like you were torturing her, Joon. You were helping her and I see the way you look at her too. Everyone does."

"If I wanted to, I can't give her the life she deserves. She's doing good things, Yoongi. She's innocent and I want her to stay that way." Yoongi nodded in his head in understanding, but there lingered a small glint of hesitation in his eyes. "And, even if I could, keeping her around her is dangerous. If our rivals found out about her, she'd become a target."

Namjoon sighed and stood up from his desk and shuffled through his papers. "Make sure she gets home safely tomorrow. Keep a couple of men in the area for the next week or so just in case it was a targeted attack."

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"He's not coming?" you asked the man who introduced himself as Yoongi.

He shook his head and gave you a sympathetic look. "But, he did want me to give you this."

Yoongi reached into his bag and pulled out the copy of Jane Eyre Namjoon had read to you. It was an old copy--at least fifty years old--and he had a bookmark stuck halfway through. You opened to the marked page and found his handwriting on the bookmark. He wrote in black ink. It was neat, although smudged around the edges because he'd closed the book on it when the ink was still wet.

It's your turn to read now Namjoon x

Your eyes focused down on the 'x'. It certainly didn't mean anything, it was just his way of signing off, but it left you satisfied as you walked out of the door escorted by Yoongi and a few other men.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

3 months later

"Y/N!" one of your coworkers said, rushing into your office. "You're never going to believe this."

"What?" you asked looking up from your work.

"Some guy just came in here. He was so handsome and wearing a fancy suit and he wrote us a thirty thousand dollar check." She held up the check so you could see it.

"No way," you said, grabbing the check from her hands. You held it up to the light and placed it under the black light you had to verify authentic donations. You had a weird feeling in your gut and you glanced down at the signature on the check. You couldn't make out a particular name, but a shiver ran down your spine. "What was his name?"

"Oh, well, I don't think he told us his real name. But, you know the rich types, always wanting to protect their identities."

"Y/C/N, what. was. his. name?"

"Mr. Rochester."

6 months later

"We're a bit short his month, Y/N," your boss said. "You know I hate to deduct from wages. It wasn't much this month."

You nodded. It was the reality of working for a non-profit. Sometimes you got paid and sometimes you didn't, but you knew the money was going to people more deserving of yourself. You waited until you were on your way home to open the envelope and see just how much you were getting that month. When your eyes met the total, you slowly looked down before continuing onto your apartment.

You pushed the key into the lock wondering just how you were going to scrounge up enough money for next month's rent. You could always sell something or do some odd jobs on the weekends. You opened your door and stepped inside feeling your foot slip forward, causing you to nearly trip, your only savior is your right hand was still holding on to the doorknob.

You got your footing and bent down to find a small envelope that was slid under your door. Your name was printed neatly on it. Normally, this would freak you out, but you noticed the same black ink from the bookmark in the copy of Jane Eyre.

I know money has been tight. Here's rent for the next couple months. Keep doing what's important x Mr. Rochester

Tears came to your eyes and your bit your index finger as you read the note over and over again. He was absolutely insufferable and part of you wanted to rip up the check, but instead, you slipped it out of the envelope and into your purse.

9 months later

It was a quiet Saturday night when you heard the knock at your door. It was nearly 11 pm and you weren't expecting anyone. You were already in your pajamas and you had picked up Jane Eyre for the first time in a few months. It wasn't that you found it particularly hard to read, but every time you picked it up, you were reminded of him. The man you had no idea why you still thought about. The man who occasionally came into your life and then left just as quickly.

The knock came again and louder this time. This time panic rushed down your spine and you froze. Was it best to approach the door and give away the fact you weren't asleep? Or was it best to just act like you'd already done to bed and hope they go away?

You stayed put, but clutched your cellphone close to you. Another knock never came, but instead the rustling of the doorknob and the clicking of the lock. It was when you heard it successfully unlock that you ran towards the kitchen. You grabbed your largest kitchen knife and crouched in the corner.

You were in the middle of dialing emergency services when you were yanked up by your hair and your cellphone went clattering to the floor.

"Ah, yes, you are her," the man said.

You didn't recognize the man in front of you. He was taller than you and held your hair in a tightening grip that caused you to whimper.

"You're plainer than I expected. He's head over heels for you, so I figured you must be beautiful. But, I guess, you must have better things to offer." He smirked, but unlike the smirks Namjoon sometimes let slip, this one terrified you.

"Who are you?" you asked.

"It doesn't matter to you baby girl," he said. "All you need to know is that you're going to die."

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"Namjoon!" Yoongi said, running into the room, breathless. His face was red and his eyes were creased, almost in fear. It was uncommon for Yoongi to get so worked up, let alone run. He spoke when he finally caught his breath, "Min-sung," he said. "Min-sung was seen near her apartment."

Min-sung had once been a trusted man, but he began getting greedy. Wanting to take all the jobs. Skimming money off the top. He felt betrayed when Namjoon finally let him go. You'd think he'd be grateful, most other bosses would've had him killed for how much money he stole, but no. Min-sung's mind was only focused on the drugs he took and the money he needed to buy them.

Namjoon's eyes widened. He pulled open his desk drawer, nearly pulling the entire drawer out of it's setting. He pulled out a handgun and fed in the clip. It had not once been fired. Namjoon had never had the urge nor the need to kill, until that very moment.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"I'm going to play with you," he said. "To let him know you suffered. His precious little secret on the south side of the city."

"Please, I don't know who you're talking about. The walls are thin. I'm sure the neighbors are worried by now." Both were lies, but you hoped it came off convincing enough. He'd let go of your hair, but now he straddled you.

"Tell me, how do you want to die?"

"I don't want to die."

He laughed. "Of course not, sweetheart. But, you're going to. I'm being generous and giving you a choice. I could take that knife you had when I came in and stab you or I could kill you with my hands on your throat. Or, I could hold your head down in the bathtub and watch as you writhe around--"

Tears pushed out of your eyes and you felt blood sprout from your bottom lip as you dug into it. You squirmed underneath the man trying to wriggle yourself free or one of your limbs free.

"You know, I haven't really given much thought to dying," you said. You slowly slipped your foot upwards until you had enough leverage to bring your knee into his crotch.

He doubled over in enough pain for you to free yourself. You ran back towards the kitchen to grab the knife from earlier. You wrapped your palm around the hilt, but he was behind you before you could turn around. With all your might, you forced the knife backward, but it was at an awkward angle. Yet, you still heard him wince.

The knife dropped from your hand and the man turned you around, forcing your back against the counter. You noticed a long cut on his arm and felt a small sense of pride. At least if he was going to kill you, he would have a scar.

His hands wrapped around your neck and his thumbs sat right on top of your windpipe. You made eye contact with him as he pushed down and you made a small croaking sound as your eyes grew wider and your toes pointed in reaction to the lack of air.

"Stop...please...help...Namjoon..."

You managed only a few words before you ran out of air to manage any sounds. Your vision was beginning to blur and you knew in a few seconds you'd black out and it'd be the end.

The last few moments were so loud you couldn't make out what happened. Yelling, shuffling, a slam of a door, a loud pop. Then, it was all over.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Y/N, Y/N, please come back to me."

You opened your eyes to see Namjoon crouched over you. Blood stained his shirt and even parts of his skin, but his hand was clean as it caressed your cheek softly.

"Thank God," he said. "I thought I was too late. The doctor is on his way and so are my men to clean up everything. We'll pay off the neighbors to keep things quiet if we have to. You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worried, Namjoon." Your voice was hoarse and still not all the way there. You felt the bruises forming on your neck and your entire body ached. You turned you head to see your attacker laying in a pool of blood a few feet away.

"Hey, hey, don't look at that. Come on."

"I'm not a child."

"That doesn't mean you need to see a dead guy on your kitchen floor."

He lifted you up and carried you into your bedroom. After setting you down, he went back out to the living area and grabbed the copy of Jane Eyre.

"You didn't get very far."

"I've been busy."

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

1 year later

Namjoon is almost done setting up everything in his new office when he hears a soft knock at the door. A delivery person carrying a large bouquet of flowers strides in and sets the vase on his desk and left without a word.

Curious, Namjoon walked from the corner of the room where he had been shelving books and to the center of the room. He plucked the card from among the flower heads.

I finally found time to finish the book. Congrats on the new job. Let's meet soon. Love, Jane

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Helmeted Hunter: Chapter 27

Boba Fett x Reader

Chapter Warnings: N/A

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

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Chapter 27: Questions and Answers

Your legs had moved before you had fully processed what they were running toward. You embraced your mother, one of many loved ones you'd never thought you'd see again, in the little room on the strange planet you'd been brought to by the Empire. You would've cried had you not been so utterly dumfounded.

"Mom?" you whispered again, pulling away from her grasp to get a good look at her. She had tears in her eyes and was stroking your hair, also in disbelief over your presence. She looked as well as she'd ever been. Healthy. No signs of abuse or neglect. She even had a bit of make-up on, now smudged a little in the corner of one watery eye. She also wore one of those white suits you'd seen earlier, with an Imperial insignia that matched the one stitched on your jumper.

"I'm so glad you're alive," she said through her tears, cooing your name and bringing you in for another hug.

You stiffened in her arms, still not able to fully relish the moment with so many questions on your mind. You'd come looking for answers and were met with more confusion than ever. You'd had enough.

"Mom," you said firmly, pulling back and holding her at arm's length. "What is going on? How... why are you here?"

She wrapped her hands around to grasp yours, giving them a squeeze as she looked at you sympathetically. "It's a long story, hun."

"I have time."

Her face faltered in its relief as she now took in your features. Your even gaze, the seriousness of your voice. Your disheveled hair and the bags beneath your eyes. The tension you'd held in your shoulders for months. She looked at you the way she'd had whenever you'd been sick, or had had a bad day at school, or when you'd come home crying from your first rejected crush... Wanting to help you, to heal you, but knowing there was only so much even a mother could do.

"Very well," she smiled, motioning to a little sofa nearby. "We should sit. Would you like some tea or...?"

"No." You wanted answers.

She nodded knowingly and joined you on the sofa, sitting just close enough that she could reach back out for you should you want her to. She ran her aging hands across her face, through her hair, sighing. "Where to begin."

"Did the Empire take you when they invaded home?" you asked, too impatient to not help her start somewhere.

She gave you a rueful smile. "That depends. Which invasion are you referring to?"

You gulped and kept your eyes trained on her, not wanting to miss a single detail as she eventually leaned onto the backrest of the couch and launched into her story.

"The Empire claimed our planet a long time ago, when you were very young. We didn't have resources, we weren't in a strategic location for them... but we did have people, very bright people who were more than willing to work with this new group if it meant access to advanced technology. It was all behind the scenes. The Empire didn't have the strength to conquer through force yet, and our leaders didn't want the masses to be aware of other systems. Your dad and I... We got caught up in it by accident. They were mostly recruiting scientists, engineers, medical researchers.... But they also needed other support positions filled, too. We knew some people... We were struggling with loans... It just... happened."

Your mom sighed and ran another hand over her face, showing that despite her healthy appearance, the situation had taken its toll on her deep within. A part of you did want to embrace her again, but you also didn't want to get distracted. Krennic would be coming at any time; you needed to get as much of the story as you could before then.

"We ended up supporting projects around hyperspeed technology, which then turned into experiments with teleportation."

"The portals," you muttered.

She nodded slowly, her eyes far off as she looked into the past. "Dad and I weren't developing the technology ourselves, but we became very close with the scientists that were. We knew they could easily program the destinations and pick the people they wanted to move. But the Empire was growing stronger. There were threats of attack and even war. Other divisions would finish their work and then mysteriously disappear. Our scientist friends were scared to admit they'd succeeded. So they lied, said it would take time to figure out how to control it."

Your mom gulped, her hands wringing together in her lap. You could tell her voice was dry. "And then we came up with a plan. It was... difficult... But we didn't have many other options. We... We used the technology to get certain people to safety. But we had to keep up the appearance that it was random so... well, we couldn't save everyone."

She hung her head, as if in shame. Your stomach twisted. "One of us would pick someone from our family and send them to a random planet. And then we'd move some random people around other parts of the galaxy for a while. And then another would get to save someone from their family. Bounty hunters were hired to go collect them and take to a safe house. The decisions they had to make... who to chose, who to save...."

She trailed off, but only momentarily. "By the time it was our turn, one of the supervisors had caught on. Orson Krennic. He had been planning to shut down the department. The portal technology used up too many resources and there was more promise with some of his other projects. But when he found out it could be controlled, he struck a deal. He'd take us all, with our families, to this planet, Eadu, where we'd be spared from the impending attack on our home. We just had to share the codes to control the portals."

Your mom shook her head again, still avoiding eye contact. "We agreed, and your dad was sent to Eadu with some of the others for the first trip. The rest of us would be taken later. But then one night I got a message from him saying Krennic had gone back on his word, and that he had an opportunity to open one last portal before fleeing with the codes. We--"

She stopped short. A tear trickled down her cheek, pooling at her chin for a moment before she furiously wiped it away. She took in a deep breath and shook her head, trying to cast off the obvious guilt and grief. "We wanted to save everyone, all the people we loved. But we also knew there was going to be a war. We had to save others, people who could fight and stand up for our planet. It was the most difficult decision we ever had to make. But I told him to just take you, that I would find a way to get the others off the planet.

"After you disappeared, Krennic's soldiers came for me. They wanted to know where your dad went, how to recreate the codes he stole. I told them I could recreate part of it from memory, but only if they spared the rest of the family. They brought me here, and I honored the agreement, but I only knew so much. All the other scientists had chosen to be killed rather than give away their secrets. And in the meantime, the others that had gone through the portal with you were able to go back and sneak thousands of people off the planet. It sounded like the rest of our family made it out, but they won't give me details. All I know is Krennic's been trying like crazy to capture you, hoping it will flush your dad out of hiding with the codes. I figured that meant the others ended up in hiding too, or... well... you know...."

There was silence as you let everything sink in. Your mom took in a few more breaths to calm her nerves, trying for a smile as she finally looked up at you. "Don't get me wrong, I am so, so happy to see you alive and safe. But I'd been praying they wouldn't find you, that our bounty would've been enough to get you to your father instead of me...."

"Bounty?" you asked, discovering your voice was as dry as hers.

Your mom nodded. "We'd already done our research, so when it would finally be our turn to send someone, we'd have the best bounty hunter keeping them safe. But when your dad contacted me for our final plan, to send you, we knew the Empire could easily raise the price and have the guy turn you into them instead. So your dad set a bounty higher than we thought they could match. He gave all of our savings to the bounty hunter Boba Fett and told him it was an advancement. He said he'd figure out how to get you away from Fett later, all that mattered was just getting you off the planet. Krennic was furious when he found out, but then he kept talking about going after you, and I knew it meant Fett hadn't succeeded in getting you to your dad."

"No," you rasped, your voice sounding distant. "He didn't know where to find him. The transmission was cut off."

Your mom bowed her head knowingly. "He must have run into trouble. But the fact they've still be trying to get you means he's still out there somewhere."

You felt yourself standing up, pacing about the room slowly, but not really comprehending your own actions. Your mind was reeling, going through all the information over and over again in an effort to make sense of it... to accept it.

The buyer, the mysterious and wealthy person you'd been searching for, was your dad. He was out there, hiding, protecting the galaxy from a piece of technology the Empire would surely use for only more destruction and power. And your mom was just as much a part of that effort, doing what she could to quietly protect her family. Your planet had fallen to the Empire, but its people carried on elsewhere. Your family could very well be among them.

You weren't sure how to feel. You allowed a few tears to well in your eyes, but they stung. You wanted to be relieved, to bask in the sensation of finally knowing the truth. You wanted to feel free from the worry and fear that you were being hunted for no reason. And you supposed you did feel those things, but there was something else, too. Something you couldn't quite understand.

The sound of your name broke through your heavy thoughts. You looked over at your mom as she addressed you, preparing to say something else. Possibly a comforting word, or maybe a few questions of her own. But she wasn't able to get it out, not before you heard the door open and saw Orson Krennic emerge from the hall behind you.

"Done catching up?" he asked with a sly quirk of his mouth. "Good. Let's see if we can't get your father to join the reunion."

[dylinski]

Magnetism

Warnings: SMUT! bondage (but barely), language, violence, kind of dom tommy (but y/n is a brat so it doesnt last long), angst (obviously)

Relationships: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Author: @dylinski​

A/N: Here’s my fic for day 4 of tomuary!!!! if i get them finished, i plan on posting two more but we’ll see how that goes. lol hope ya’ll enjoy and let me know what you think please. i’m really unsure about writing smut and idk if this is any good, so if i shouldn’t write anymore it would be nice to know. lol

There’s something about running for your life and fighting against all odds to survive that make a person reevaluate their life, but with Y/N, that’s not the case. Being in the scorch with a bunch of boys wasn’t much different from the glade, so what was there to consider? She knew who her friends and her enemies were and that’s all she needed to know in order to survive in this world. If Thomas had just listened to her when she said not to trust Teresa, more of them would be alive, but him not believing anything Y/N says is to be expected. Since the moment he came up and out of the box, something repellant between them switched on. The only proper way to describe it is when you try to force two poles of a magnet together with the same polar direction.

Fighting their way out of the maze, through the scorch, and now in this abandoned town lets a person see a lot of death and Y/N was tired of it. If that meant trying to convince Thomas that running around and attacking WCKD at random to find Minho, risking other’s lives, was a bad idea then she was willing to take all the blame. They were so close to paradise and they had saved so many souls already. At least Vince agreed, having one person on her side is nice.

There was another meeting, discussing all the usual topics, but Thomas seemed more pissed off than usual, which is saying something as of late. He’s been nothing but a pissy bitch since the search for his raven-haired friend had turned sour and unwilling. The meeting was held in a moderate-sized room, big enough to hold the handful of people permitted. Thomas was leaning on both hands over a table with Newt at his hip, what a surprise. They were combing over a map with Vince and Jorge, arguing about a last city or something. Y/N was sitting in the corner, rolling her eyes at practically every other word, a sad image of men and boys arguing over nonsense around the circular table. 

Newt would look up every once in a while and give her a sympathetic smile to let her know she wasn’t forgotten in the exchange of emotions and words. She liked Newt, he had always been kind to her when most of the other boys treated her like she was fragile and delicate in the maze. He never doubted her or underestimated her abilities despite what was between her legs, well, until that little shit popped up and out of the ground. Motherfucking Thomas, the angel, the savior, the one who will lead us to paradise. Yeah right, more like the one who will lead everyone to their preventable deaths.

“Look! He was there, okay? I know it. Minho was there!” The vein in Thomas’ neck was protruding and defined from the strain he was putting on his words. He was desperate. “We grabbed the wrong container!”

“Thomas, there was a 50/50 chance and we made a choice of which one to grab. Not to mention the odds of him being in either train car, to begin with, were small.” Vince was calm and collected, he always managed to keep a cool head.

“Yeah, but he was there! If I had just..” Thomas was quieter now, but no less desperate.

“You didn’t pick the wrong one, Mate. We saved at least 100 people from WCKD today. I wouldn’t call that a failure. We didn’t find Minho, but I have faith we will. He’s still out there, I know it.” Newt looked up at Y/N when he finished, and she couldn’t help to give a forced smile. Leave it to him to be the voice of reason, but also the one to egg on the bumbling buffoon everyone seems to eagerly place their faith in.

“Newt, I get that, but he was there, he was right there! If we hadn’t been so pressed for time I could have-”

Y/N jumped up, utterly pissed at this point and tired of hearing these idiots run round and round in the same circles. “You could have what, Thomas? You could have picked the ‘right’ container? Hmm? Why don’t you go tell that to Sonya? Or Aris? I’m sure they’d love to hear that you saving their lives, along with everyone else in that box, wasn’t your goal and you’d gladly trade them for the single life of Minho.”

Everyone in the room fell silent and it was filled with the light of the moon shining through the missing part of the ceiling. The flames from the lanterns danced on everyone’s shocked faces. Y/N was never one to prance around the daisies when it came to stating the obvious. Thomas looked almost ashamed and it was honestly annoying. She was tired of his pitiful ’I didn’t ask for this’ routine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Despite the guilt that raged in his stomach, he used it to fuel his anger towards Y/N, which was to be expected. He took most of his negative emotions out on her, his own personal punching bag, but he could never land any punches because she honestly couldn’t care less. She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, shooting knives at him and his nostrils flared under her eyes. An unknowing battle of spiteful gazes between them.

“Well, as entertaining as it is to watch you two practically have hate-sex with each other, we need to discuss our options.” Jorge obviously chose his words to jolt the two out of their staring contest and it worked. They both made faces like they had tasted something sour, scrunching their noses at the idea of actually wanting each other. Well, I mean, it’s not the first time Y/N had thought of it, but just because he had the body that could rival a god doesn’t mean she was ignorant of his pea-sized brain.

“There’s nothing to discuss. We’re not risking anyone’s lives to go to the last city, if it’s even real.” Y/N couldn’t help but sights the relief of Vince seeing reason.

“I’ve heard things over the years, that it was a last resort for WCKD, their place of operations. I’ve never managed to make it that far north, but it’s one of the safe heavens that were put into place when things went to shit.” Y/N huffed in annoyance, thanks, Jorge. Great job at giving the little shit ideas.

“Look, we could make it there with a small team in a week and then be back with Minho in no time.”

“No, Thomas. I’m not risking any more lives to save one person. This is a suicide mission. If it’s anything Jorge says it is, the city will be a fortress. Not to mention the road to get there, riddled with the infected. We don’t have the people or the resources to take on a fight like that.” Vince was tired of arguing with him, so he was standing his ground and that would be the end of it. Thomas may have been the leader in the glade and the scorch, but here he was allowed the privilege to have a say by Vince.

“I don’t need an army, just two or three-”

“Thomas, no!” Vince was done with these petty arguments and put his foot down. “The ship is almost done. We’ll be ready to sail in less than a week. There are casualties in war, and in this world, the life of one doesn’t out way the lives of the many. We’re not going and that’s final.”

Thomas grunted and threw his arms up in rebellion, stomping off to brood somewhere by himself. 

Y/N couldn’t help the small smile of satisfaction that crept onto her face from seeing him so pissed off. She strode over to where Newt was standing and crossed her arms, leaning her back against the table to face him.

“He’s hurting you know? He blames himself. He blames himself for everything honestly.” The smile melted away just as easily as it appeared. There goes Newt, always defending his puppy.

“He should! I told him not to trust Teresa!” Newt let a small shudder roll over his body at her name and Y/N couldn’t help but feel empathy and guilt for mentioning it.

“We all trusted her, except for you, of course. You never let us forget it, but we had no reason not to. She helped us, she helped Thomas. Maybe you were just jeal-”

“For the love of God, Newt, if you say I was jealous, I’ll break your other leg.” He chuckled at the threat, knowing it was empty and mostly a joke. It made her smile a bit, seeing him smile and laugh. He was always like a brother to her and she missed seeing him so happy. A lot of them haven’t been able to feel that way for a while now. Not since Thomas showed up and shucked it all up, anyway. 

“He understands why you hate him.” Y/N was caught off guard, lost in her own head when Newt broke through.

“I don’t hate him, I just…” There wasn’t really a word for it. It was like Thomas was made specifically to boil the blood in her veins and ignite a fire in her stomach that was begging to rage. He knew exactly how to get under her skin and press her buttons, and most of the time he wasn’t even trying.

“You two are a lot alike actually.” Newt let out a chuckle and ignored the hard stare directed at him. “You’re both stubborn as bulls, reckless too. Jumping into things without thinking clearly. You’re guided by emotion rather than logic, but there’s nothing wrong with that.” He turned his head to face his friend and curled up the corner of his lip. “Go get some sleep, we’ve all had a long day.” Newt patted her shoulder and limped off, leaving her alone in the room that now felt huge.

Y/N wasn’t really that tired, so she decided to go around to her favorite spot by the water that she found when they first arrived. The way the moonlight danced on the water in the darkness created the illusion of twinkling lights and reminded her of looking up into the sky in the glade. She hopped down from the ledge onto the sand and trotted through the thick and moist beach towards the large rock that always managed to be warm despite the sun. When it finally came into view, she halted in her tracks.

Of course, Thomas would fucking be there, laying on her rock in her secret spot. A low grumble resonates in her chest as she clenched her fist and stomped towards him. He heard and sat up hazily, having been lost in the limbo of sleep and consciousness.

“What? Who’s...oh. It’s you.” He laid back down, resting his head on his arms that were raised over his head.

“That’s my spot.” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth and clenched fists, trying not to punch him.

He lifted his head slightly and opened one eye, looking Y/N over and then let his head fall back down. “I don’t see your name on it.”

Y/N’s jaw went slack as she let out a small whine of protest, which seemed to put a shit-eating grin on Thomas’ face. Despite being pissed as hell, she couldn’t deny that his smile, with the crescent eyes and the way the moon illuminated his face, was...beautiful. No. No no no no. She’s mad and he’s an annoying little shit that gets everybody hurt or killed. Okay, good. She couldn’t stand the thought of actually being attracted to him.

“You know, Newt says-” Thomas was cut off by her.

“Newt says a lot of things.” Despite being so close to him, Y/N still couldn’t help but feel the rise of annoyance as she rolled her eyes.

Thomas sat up on his elbows and looked over at Y/N. The way he looked at her, and the light of the night with the waves crashing, for some reason it made her feel vulnerable. She moved her arms that were crossed on her chest down to wrap around her stomach. Thomas tilted his head in the most quizzical of ways like he was trying to decipher her. She was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve, but so terribly wanted to. 

Tired of being gawked at, Y/N took the few steps between them and leaned against the large boulder, her back mostly facing Thomas. She looked up to the sky that was mostly black and empty and let out a sad sigh. She missed the stars, but since they left the maze they seemed to have all died out.

“I know, I miss them too.” Y/N shot a look over her shoulder at Thomas who was looking up. She couldn’t help but linger her gaze on him, he looked so...broken. He must have felt her stare because the muscles in his arms flexed under his weight as he shifted uncomfortably. His jaw clenched, but he still kept looking up, searching for something they both knew he’d never find.

“Why do you want to save Minho so bad?” He broke his lock on the sky and looked at her like it was the stupidest of questions, which it was. “I mean, I know why, but he’s probably dead. We haven’t heard anything about him in months and-”

“He’s alive.” Thomas laid himself back down flat against the rock. “I know it, I can feel it in my gut.” He spoke like it was the truth, something factual rather than the simple feeling that it really was.

“Yeah, but what if he’s not? Are you willing to risk our lives, your life, for someone who may not even be alive?”

He sat up fully and his eyes were dark and full of emotions she couldn’t quite decode. His posture changed to confidence and purpose. “Minho would do it for me.” He looked out to the ocean and crossed his legs, letting his elbows rest on them, placing his cheeks between his hands.

Y/N couldn’t argue with him there. She had known Minho longer than Thomas, and if there was one thing he’d never do, it would be leaving a friend behind. Thomas scooted over and patted the hard surface next to him. She examined the spot and looked up to him, questioningly. He gave her a small smile and she climbed up next to him. There was silence between them, not having much to say, as they shared the space and took in the sea and its illusion of stars.

“I’m going,” Thomas spoke softly as he continued to stare out at the water. They could hear the waves lapping against the stone as his words echoed. Y/N wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. Was he going now? Going to sleep? He looked up and his lips turned down, eyes full of sadness and it hit her. He was going to the last city, alone.

“What!? You can't go! Did you not hear Vince? It’s a suicide mission!” Y/N surprised both of them at her exasperation to get Thomas to stay. I mean, sure she didn’t like the guy, but it’s not like she wanted him dead.

He looked at her and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t care. I have to at least try.” The look in his eyes was pitiful and unrelenting. The decision was made, and once he made his mind up on something, there was no use arguing with him.

“If you want to die, that’s fine, I won’t be a part of it.” Y/N hopped down from the rock and started to walk away hurriedly. “But I’m telling Vince.” 

Thomas’ eyes grew wide and he jumped from the rock and chased after her. “No! You can't say anything!” He grabbed her arm and she reactively spun around, landing a solid punch in his gut. Thomas grabbed his stomach and took a step back, grunting in pain. She rolled her eyes and turned to continue walking when Thomas ran up behind her and tackled her to the ground.

“What the fuck, Thomas!?” She struggled but managed to spin around, her back to the sand and Thomas hovering over top her, caging her in with his arms as they held her wrists down over her head.

“I can't let you tell anyone before I leave!” His hot breaths were huffing into her face, a contrast to the cold breeze that had chilled the air.

Y/N looked up at him in frustration and confusion, but mostly at herself. Her eyes flitted down to his lips for the slightest of seconds, but she had to throw those thoughts from her mind. Sorry, Thomas. She slammed her head up into the boy’s nose and he let out a shout as he flew back, grabbing his face and releasing his grip on her arms. She wiggled out from under him and stood up to keep going, but a hand wrapped around her ankle and she face-planted into the hard earth and let out a groan, rubbing the sore spot on her head.

Thomas climbed up on top of her, straddling her waist from behind. He held her wrists to her side this time, avoiding the possibility of her bucking her head back and hitting him in the face again. She writhed underneath him and fought as best she could, but he was stronger than her. It didn’t help that he had the advantage either.

“Are you jacked!? Let me go you little shuckface!” She let out screeches and shouts as she struggled, but it was no use. She gave up and relaxed under him. “Well, you can't hold me down forever! What’s your plan here slinthead?”

Thomas didn’t reply, obviously trying to make this shit up as he went along. He pinned her arms behind her back and stood up, making a grunting noise as he pulled her up with him. “Oh, now he’s the quiet brooding type. Couldn’t get you to shut up for the life of me in the glade, but now you got nothing to say?”

“Shut up.” He grunted through his teeth as he pushed Y/N forward a bit, jerking her around as they walked. He still had her arm pinned behind her back and it was getting kind of painful now.

“Where are you taking me? Are you gonna kill me? Didn’t think you’d have the balls. Well, actually with all the people you’ve killed over the last year, it probably won’t be that hard.” Thomas threw Y/N up against the wall of one of the buildings as they passed through the camp and her head bounced off, now throbbing in two places. She slammed her eyes shut and grabbed the back of her skull as Thomas slammed his hands into the wall on either side of her face. His body was pressing into hers and she could feel every muscle tense as he gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils.

Their faces were inches apart as he growled at her. “I’m getting fucking tired of you reminding me how many mistakes I’ve made!” She has seen him angry like this before, and it was intense, but to have it directed at her, if she was less of a stubborn mule, she probably would have klunked her pants. Thomas was like a raging sea when he was truly angry, everything in his path swallowed up and demolished. He had so much anger, so much hate towards WCKD and himself that when he reached a tipping point it would all spill out like an erupting volcano, and Y/N just happened to be in his path.

“You walk around, talking shit about me to everyone and I can’t take it anymore! You think I don’t carry those people with me, that I don’t know the lives I’ve cost!? I didn’t want any of this! I never asked for it. I didn’t want to be the leader! That’s Minho’s job, but for some God-forsaken reason, everyone but you thinks I’m some savior. I just want to save my friends! I just want to get as far from WCKD and this fucking place as I can! The last thing I need is you reminding me how royally I’ve screwed up every five seconds!” He pulled her off the wall, she was mostly shell shocked from his burst of fury. He gripped her bicep tight enough to leave a bruise as he guided her further through the camp. “But first, I’m getting Minho.”

They traveled the rest of the way in silence which was preferred by Thomas since he was trying not to wake up anyone anyways. They made it to the small building that Thomas had claimed as his own and he shut the door behind them. He pushed Y/N down forcefully on his excuse for a bed and she sat there, still and silent. Thomas paced and ran his fingers through his hair as his mind raced a million miles a minute.

Y/N gulped and wasn’t entirely sure what to say to keep him from exploding again. It wasn’t that she feared he would hurt her, she knew he wouldn’t, but she feared to see him like this. Seeing him like a rabid dog biting at the ankles of anyone who caught his eye. Thomas grabbed a shirt from the floor and ripped off a piece and grabbed her arm, pulling her up the bed.

“Are you serious? You’re tying me up?” Thomas glared at her and then proceeded to tie her wrist to the post of the bed. “Kinky.” Her words were meant to antagonize him, and it worked as he visibly clenched his jaw in vexation. He got up and started to walk around the room when Y/N cleared her throat and waved her hand at Thomas. “Well you’re not very bright, are you?” He looked at her with bewilderment and she rolled her eyes. “My other hand. What’s to stop me from untying your sad excuse for a knot?” Thomas growled under his breath, mostly at himself for not thinking about that possibility. He ripped off another strip of cloth and tied her other wrist to the opposite bedpost.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she was helping him, but she was starting to find this entertaining. Seeing him sputter around in an attempt to get himself killed and digging himself into a deeper hole. Y/N watched him with enjoyment as she crossed her ankles and relaxed against the headboard. He was scurrying around the room like a squirrel, trying to find things and stuffing them into a bag.

“So you’re just gonna leave me tied up when you leave until someone finds me, huh?” Thomas looked over his shoulder and huffed as he continued to rummage through his belongings. “Don’t forget your jacket, might get a little chilly.” He stood up from where he was squatting and threw his bag down hard on the ground and curled in his lips with impatience.

“Keep talking and I’ll gag you!” 

“Ooo, promise?” Thomas shot daggers as he glinted his eyes and growled. Y/N just smiled and wiggled her head in triumph. “If you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask.” Thomas rolled his eyes and turned to keep packing. She was getting bored of the silence and made an attempt to rile him up again.

 “Some of the boys in the glade used to talk, you know?” Thomas ignored her as she rambled on. “Apparently you weren’t very quiet when you used to, you know?” Thomas turned to her with curiosity. Since her hands were, tied she couldn’t make the motion, so she thrust her hips up twice, but he got the idea. His eyes went wide and he froze in place. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his discomfort. “I overheard Jeff telling Zart about how they accidentally saw you in the woods rubbing one out and when you came you said my na-”

“SHUT UP!” Thomas grabbed what was left of the shirt from the end of the bed and shoved it into Y/N’s mouth. She just laughed through the fabric, her enjoyment muted. His cheeks were so pink that they looked like they were hot to the touch and it was almost adorable how flustered and embarrassed he looked. He was sitting on the side of the bed, his back mostly facing Y/N and his head hanging low in shame.

Finally, his cheeks turned from pink to red and he looked to her as he stood. “Well, what do you expect with you prancing around the glade in those short shorts and spaghetti-strap shirts!?” Y/N’s face went from amused to resentful. She tried defending herself through the cloth but all that came out was stifled noise. Thomas threw his arms up and huffed in annoyance, then grabbed the shirt from her mouth.

“I said, you fucking misogynist, that it was fucking hot out while I was working, unlike you who avoided his duties like the plague! Besides, how is it fair for you to fucking say shit like that about me when you paraded yourself around in those pants that clung to your ass while you were shirtless? Do you think I liked staring at your abs as sweat rolled down them?” Both of them were stunned into silence, Y/N realizing what she said and Thomas just amazed that she even thought about him like that. 

They both stared at each other, Y/N turning flushed and Thomas trying to hold back his smile. “Shut up!” She pushed her leg out to the side as she kicked him as hard as she could in the leg. He shouted at the impact and bent over to grab the spot that now throbbed.

“You’re such a violent little shit!” He hollered at her, referring to their brawl earlier.

“Yeah? Imagine me in bed.” Her words were sultry and aimed at being intimidating, but Thomas just smiled the most devilish grin. 

“I already have.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and blushed as she turned her head against her shoulder in the opposite direction of Thomas in protest. After a moment she looked back since he was so quiet and he was still standing there, looking at her with hunger and gnawing on his bottom lip. She narrowed her eyes and couldn’t help but look down and noticed the bulge in his pants. Her eyes went wide and she gasped as she went to kick him again. He yelped and swatted her foot away. “What the fuck, Thomas?”

“What!? You’re the one who said to imagine you in bed!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re such a whore!” Thomas had a smile of amusement at being called a whore like it was a funny joke. Y/N just huffed and turned her eyes up in annoyance. 

“C’mon, you haven’t thought about me?” Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, keeping distance between them in case she wanted to kick or headbutt him again.

“God no!” Her words were firm and strong, but she was betrayed by her face. His lips went dry at the lie and she licked them unknowingly as her eyes darted to his. She blushed and looked away quickly to avoid any further incrimination, but Thomas grabbed her chin and turned her back to face him. His face was so close to hers now, them only needing to whisper to communicate.

“Tell me, what did you imagine? Do you think about my thick cock while you had your fingers inside yourself?” She shuddered at his words and her mouth was like a desert, begging for water. Her lips were parted and she couldn’t gain control of her tongue as she searched his eyes, full of need and hidden desire. He licked her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and a chill coursed through her. He pulled away and her face followed, but was she restrained by the ties on her wrists. She let out a small whine at the loss of his mouth. Thomas bit his lip and chuckled. “If that’s how your lips taste, I bet the rest of you tastes just as amazing.” His hand rested on her bare calf and trailed its way up her leg until it reached her thigh where the hem of her shorts began.

Her hot, panting breaths were mixed with his, their lips nearly touching. She wanted desperately to close the minuscule distance between them, but couldn’t make her body move, frozen under his touch. Thomas went in, but just before their lips connected he tilted his head and collided his mouth with her neck. She let out a gasp at the sudden feeling of his warm lips against her chilled flesh. He kissed and sucked at the spot just below her jaw as she leaned back, giving him more access. He worked his way down to the pulse in her neck and bit down, then licked over it to alleviate the red marks. The mix of pain and pleasure, hot and cold, had her rubbing her thighs together in search of friction. Y/N let out a small moan into Thomas’s ear and his hand made its way further up her leg. He continued to lick and nip at her neck, leaving marks and right before his hand reached her core he pulled away.

Y/N let out a whine of protest at the loss of his warmth as he stood up and started to walk away. She was finally able to find her voice, but just barely. She croaked out in a pant, “You can’t just do that.”

“Can’t I?” A smile crossed his lips and the asshole had the nerve to wink. She pouted and huffed in retaliation and Thomas was now standing at the end of the bed, his legs touching the mattress, directly vertical to her. “I’m not going to just give you what you want. You have to work for it, Princess.” Y/N’s eyes went wide, seeing him like this, so domineering. The last thing she ever expected was for him to be authoritative in bed, let alone letting herself be subdued by him.

Thomas was such an arrogant little shit, he got into crevices that she didn’t even know she had. Working his way through her walls and made her squirm. She tugged at the cloth around her wrists, digging into her flesh and creating a pleasurable sting, wishing she could jump on him. She’s not entirely sure if her desire is to jump his bones or beat his ass though. He laughs and leans over her feet, placing his hands on the mattress. “Come on, baby girl, beg.” He took his time saying the last word, allowing the ‘g’ to bounce off his tongue.

“I don’t fucking beg!” Y/N spit at Thomas and the wet hit his chin. He grinned and stood up as he wiped it from his face with his finger, then placed it in his mouth. He sucked on it and let it out with a pop. Even if her tongue wouldn’t beg, her eyes sure did. “Fucking Christ…” she mumbled under her breath, but he still heard and chuckled.

Thomas places his hands on her ankles and slowly slid them up the length of her legs, maintaining eye contact. He placed his knees on the bed and was straddling the lower part of her body. When his fingers reached the waist of her pants, he curled his fingers into the band and looked her in the eyes. His digits against her flesh were thrilling and like fire coursing to her core. He searched her eyes for protest, but Y/N bit her lip and gave him the slightest nod. He smirked and looked down as he dragged the clothing off her hips. The tug pulled her down slightly, now resting on her tailbone instead of her ass. He pulled her shorts all the way off with her shoes and let them drop to the floor.

Y/N crossed her legs, feeling vulnerable, but Thomas leaned in and forced them apart by her knees. She dragged her legs up, placing her feet flat on the bed as Thomas’ fingers trailed up her thighs, leaving a trail of fire. He leaned down, his heat breaths against the inside of her legs. He kissed and licked at the warm skin and left bruising marks as he sucked into it. His mouth made its way up painfully slow to her sex when he blew cold air across it. A shiver radiated up her spine and left her feeling dizzy at the mix of everything.

Thomas kept licking and sucking everywhere around her core, the place where she so desperately wanted him to be. Her hips bucked up uncontrollably whenever he got agonizingly close, but he would always move away. “Thomas..” His name was breathy and needy, a plea for him to stop being such a tease. He moaned at the sound of his name on her lips and it reverberated through her skin as he continued to kiss and she felt it in her core. The stimulation causing her to whine. 

“Tell me what you want, Princess.” His words vibrated against her flesh as he refused to release his lips. 

Y/N let out a couple hearty breaths when she finally panted out, “Fuck me with your tongue, you prick!”

Thomas dove into her core without hesitation and the sound that came from her was somewhere between a screech and a gasp. His tongue lapped up around her entrance, licking up all the wetness he caused. He hummed at the taste and it sent shivers through her body and down to her toes. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He licked a stripe up to her clit and clamped his lips around the nub as he sucked hard. The pressure around it was inciting, but then he started to flick his tongue across the bundle of nerves. The two sensations mixing together sent a warm thrill down to her bones as her back arched up slightly. 

The noises coming from Y/N were a mix of moans and gasps as his tongue worked on her fervently. He let go of her clit and replaced it with the pad of his finger, rubbing circles into it. He traced the ring of her entrance with the tip of his tongue until her hips bucked up and he penetrated, just like she had said she wanted him to. He thrust his tongue in and out, drinking up the dampness she was producing for him. “So wet. Taste’s so good.” The words vibrated through her core and a deep long moan was released. 

“Fi..fingers.” She struggled to get the word out, but Thomas knew what she needed. He placed his mouth around her nub again, sucking and flicking while his finger traced the place his tongue had been. He looked up at her through his eyelashes and watched as she writhed under his torment. She looked down at him and whined, so he gave in and pushed a finger inside her. He slowly pumped it in and out as she let out soundless gasps. He wiggled his finger, stretching her out and slid a second one in. He pumped as he sucked at her clit and her moans were constant now. Her body, unable to keep still, was beyond her control and fully reacting to everything that Thomas was doing.

He scissored his digits, widening her for his cock. “Are you gonna come on my fingers, baby?”

“Mhmmm” That was all Y/N could manage with all the sensations she was feeling. That fire building in her stomach was overflowing and begging to spill out. She was such a wreck that she felt like she was being torn apart. Thomas curled his fingers and pumped them vigorously as he kept his mouth to her bundle of nerves and hit that spot that triggered everything. His digits brushed across it once, twice, three times, and then the coil broke.

Thomas watched as Y/N let out a silent scream and threw her head back. He smiled at his victory and hummed around her clit, causing her body to spasm through her orgasm. He licked around his fingers, taking in all she had to offer. Pulling his fingers from her, she went limp on the bed, panting with her eyes shut and her wrists red from tugging at the ties around them. He licked his digits, eating up everything he could and couldn’t help but be smug at how well he unraveled her. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet babygirl. If I made you come that good on my fingers, I can’t wait to see you on my cock.” 

Thomas started to rub the all too obvious tenting in his pants and Y/N opened her eyes, panting, and looked at him in awe. He pulled off his shirt and, dear God those abs and his chest. He wasn’t chiseled or defined, but you could still see the muscles easily. There was a patch of hair between his pecs that spread down and across to his nipples that were hard pebbles. Y/N licked her lips as she thought about running her tongue across them. Her eyes found the thick brush of hair just below his belly button that led down to the band of his pants that hung low on his hips, showing off the ‘v’ that disappeared into his waistband. 

Y/N gulped as she rubbed her thighs together, becoming aroused again just by the sight of the man. He reached a hand down his pants and started rubbing, as she poked his legs with her foot. “Take. Them. Off.” Thomas smiled and did as he was told. His pants fell around his ankles as he stepped out, kicking off his boots. He pumped his cock, the flesh around his swollen head begging to be tasted.

He crawled onto the bed, his heavy dick hanging between his legs as he hovered over Y/N. She was licking her lips so much they were bound to become chapped. He laid his body on top of her, his cock resting against her pelvis. He reached a hand under her top, pulling the hem up to reveal her breast. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over the sensitive and raised peak, making her close her eyes. She let out a hot breath and Thomas took advantage of her open mouth. He plunged his tongue between her lips and swirled it around, filling her with her own taste.

Their lips smacked against each other, creating a dance of tongues filled with moans and whines. Thomas released her mouth and trailed suckling kisses across her jaw and down her neck until he reached her nipple. He took it into his mouth and thrust his hips forward, rubbing his shaft against Y/N’s all too sensitive clit. She shuddered and met his hips as she bucked up against him. He let out a deep groan at the friction he’d been craving so frustratingly and lightly bit down on the flesh next to her nipple in response.

“Untie. Me. Now.” Y/N huffed, trying to keep herself coherent enough to speak.

“Not yet.” Thomas purred into her ear and licked a long stripe from her jaw up to behind her ear that left chills on her skin as the cold air hit the wetness. She grunted in revolt at not being untied but was distracted as Thomas thrust his hips up again and she let out a hitched breath. He zoned in his focus on her nipple, sucking and nibbling until Y/N was writhing beneath him.

Thomas started to kiss her passionately in a chaos of lips, teeth, tongues, and saliva as he lifted his hand not preoccupied with her nipple to untie the fabric around her left wrist. She pulled her arm away at the freedom and immediately wove her fingers through his hair. He gave her other nipple equal attention when he switched hands to release her other wrist. It went for his ass without hesitation. She drew her leg up over his thigh as her fingers dig into the flesh on his behind. He moaned into her mouth at the feeling of her touch, not realizing how sorely he needed it.

His hips bucked up against her core rhythmically now as they deepened their kiss in a flutter of groping and tugging of flesh. “Fuck me.” Y/N spoke into his mouth and Thomas growled in response. He leaned up, pulled her shirt over her head and lined his cock up with her cunt. His head and shaft were already slick with her wetness from gliding across her core. He pressed the tip against the entrance and slowly pushed the head in. Y/N let out a moan as she felt him move deeper inside her, inch by agonizing inch. Halfway, he easily slid in until he bottomed out.

He kept still, taking in her heat around him and allowing her to adjust to his size. She whined when he was still for too long and the look in her eyes was all the answer he needed. He hiked her leg over his hip for a better angle and slowly pulled out until she was almost empty. He slowly pushed back in until their pelvis’ met again. He repeated this excruciating movement until she couldn’t take it anymore. She gripped the back of his head, intertwining her fingers in his hair and pulled his face to her. She kissed him hard and pulled on his lip with her teeth letting it bounce back with a plop. He let out a rumble in his chest and thrust into her hard. A small yelp escaped her chest and she dug her other hand into his shoulder. “Fuck.”

Thomas pulled out slow again, but rammed into her hard. He did this a few more times until he couldn’t take it anymore himself. He started to quicken his pace and Y/N’s head fell back as she clung to him. Her moans and grunts unrelenting, littered with profanities and his name, egging him on. “Oh fuck.” She forced out her words with each breath as he pushed into her like there was no room for them with him inside.

“Fuck, baby girl. You feel so fucking good.” Thomas let his head fall into the crevice of her neck as he pulled her other leg over his hip, the heels of her feet digging into the bottom of his ass. He mercilessly thrust into her, over and over, moving the bed along with them and they were both practically screaming now. “Christ, princess you’re so tight.”

Y/N couldn’t answer, her mind too wired and out of control, just like her body. She let out noises she couldn’t decipher and felt that heat in her abdomen start to boil like a hot white flame. They were both covered in sheens of sweat, and she watched as a bead dripped down Thomas’ temple. The vein in his neck was defined and strained, pulsing visibly. “I’m so fucking close.”

Thomas reached down between them and started to vigorously rub circles on her clit, he shifted his pelvis and with his next thrust hit her g-spot perfectly. “Holy..” She gasped out as the build-up reached its peak, the split moment of feeling lighter than air, her stomach jumping. “FUCK.” Her dams burst and she let out a long and gruff breath, exhaling hard as she came around his thick cock, her eyes and head rolling back.

Thomas could feel her clenching around him and the hot pressure sent him over the edge as he came inside her, letting hot spurts coat her walls. He took his fingers from her clit and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock as he milked out every last bit of his orgasm into Y/N. He collapsed down onto her, their bodies a mess of sweat, saliva, and come. They both panted and sighed as they let their bodies catch up to the moment, exhausted from what just happened.

Thomas got up and grabbed a cloth, dousing it in water, then cleaning up the mixture of come from Y/N. He cleaned off his limp cock and let it drop to hang between his thighs. He laid back down in the bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her as she curled up next to him. He reached over and played with the ends of her hair, examining her face. “I’m still leaving, you know.”

Y/N laid flat on her back and sighed. “I know.” She turned back into his side and looked up from his chest. “Let’s go get Minho, together.”

Taglist: @xoprincessmel​ @bitch-banshee​ @parker-potter​ @writingsbychlo​ @lettersofwrittencollective​ @fan-child​ @moongoddesskiana​

[kwrittink]

Wrong - EARTHQUAKE

Pairing: F!Reader x AdoptedBrother!Jungkook

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: Language

<ABISM                                                                      AFTERSHOCK>

"You're positive it was JungKook? Our JungKook?" NamJoon asked for the fifth time in the night, as you two made your way to the bar after your workday was done. You sighed tiredly, hopping on a stool at the counter and signaling for the bartender to give you your usual - a shot of tequila and a lemon juice as follow up - before turning to your best friend, nodding heavily.

"I'm sure it was Jeon JungKook, not our JungKook." You rolled your eyes, throat burning even before the shot had even arrived. It had been a huge shock seeing the man that was once part of your daily life and disappeared without much trace - well, what the media didn't release at least - back, and as your employer, to top.

"I don't see the difference, he's still your broth-"

You cut him off with a sharp gesture, turning forward to where your drink was being served. "He's not my brother, he has made that very clear, Joon. A long time ago, when he abandoned me after turning twenty-one."

That made NamJoon hesitate before speaking, as he asked the bartender for a beer.

"Y/N, I think you should use that opportunity to talk... I'm sure there are things you two haven't said to each other," he tried and you groaned while kicking your head back, the tequila doing its job by burning your digestive system. You sure had a thing or two to say to him, but it seemed like JungKook was pretty much done with your relationship so maybe it was better to left some things unsaid.

NamJoon sighed at your lack of response. At the same time, you understood why he tried so fiercely to reunite you all since it had been such a violent break for everyone and all he had was you and his little sister, which by the way would be turning eighteen soon.

Oh no a birthday. My birthday! You suddenly realized, palm meeting your forehead with a great smack, startling even the man by your side, the cup of beer hanging midway to his puckered lips.

"I made a mistake, Joon. Of all days, he should know this and I fell right into his trap!"

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

"You're probably reading too much into this," NamJoon tried to say but you glared his way, phone pressed to your ear as you spoke to Mou after you called her to explain the situation.

"I'm so sorry, I've talked to Jeon's secretary and it seems the only available day for this meeting is that Tuesday." Mou hummed at the other side of the line and you whimpered, downing your third shot of the night.

"Okay Mou, I'll suck it up then, but if there's any change please-"

"Don't worry sweetie, I'll try a change of schedule for you. Y/N..." Your friend hesitated before speaking, her voice dropping the volume and you breathed out, imagining what she would ask next. "Is NamJoon with you right now?" You could barely hold off looking to the side at the friend who was currently working his charms on a random girl some tables to the right. It wasn't that NamJoon didn't know about Mou, he did but there wasn't much anyone could do besides looking like a jackass - and mayhaps sometimes playing the part too well, was the girl from the hickey anything to go by. Mou had a difficult situation relationship-wise and Joon could like her back all she wanted, but in the end, it wouldn't work out. Besides, she chose to not talk to him to avoid making things worse. As if she wasn't falling for him harder by the day. In all, everyone had some complicated situation on their table.

"Yes, I'm having a drink because I'm stressed, I'll be back soon to my apartment and maybe we can talk better then?" You chanced, eyes glued to the floor to avoid warning NamJoon of something. He was a good guy and would most times leave so you could talk with your friend - most times about him - but at that moment you needed his company. Agreeing to call you in a couple of hours, Mou hung up and you turned to NamJoon, which was displaying a very sympathetic - and rather cute you had to admit - smile to yet another woman walking by, which made you snort.

"Where you got all those moves, Joon? I almost feel uncomfortable," you joked, punching his arm lightly. He turned to you rolling his eyes, nonchalant as if he hadn't turned - basically in the blink of an eye or at least since you two graduated college - a fine man, that could most of the time pass as awkward, but once anyone heard him speak, there was this immediate enchantment to him. A charm.

"Good, 'cause I'm not trying to woo you," he mocked back and you made a face of disgust, stealing his mug and giving a chug to the already warm beer. It was probably a bad decision to mix drinks like that but you were having a bad day and apparently, you'd be working on your birthday, so why not just take a sick day ahead and get wasted? It seemed proper. It's the first time I've seen my ex-brother - fuck, how it hurts to think like that - in three years and seems like he still hates me while I...

"You know there's a probability that he doesn't remember," NamJoon hummed beside you, chugging the rest of his beverage after snatching his cup back. You frowned, suddenly not getting what he was talking about. "Your birthday, I mean. JungKook may not even care."

At that you snickered, perching your chin on your hand. "Whoa, how reassuring of you, Joonie. Sure hurts less than to think he's doing that on purpose just to make me suffer on my birthday," you quipped but was also glad that he was saying it, so you would ease up a bit on your paranoia. It wasn't as if JungKook was after you, anyways.

"You know that's not quite how I meant it, Y/N. I just want you to stop worrying about this since it's your job on the line too." NamJoon sighed and you could see his point quite clearly. Wouldn't do you any good to dwell on this for long, since it was job-related. You couldn't let a personal matter into it.

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

That's why you just let the days go by, till the fateful Tuesday came around.

As you woke up, your phone was already filled with messages and emails - mostly promotional newsletters, and you should unsubscribe from a lot of them - wishing you a happy birthday and all, your closest-ish friends confirming their presence for, later on, the little gathering after work the only redeeming event of that dreadful day.

You tried to not think about it yet but as you showered, it was unavoidable to wonder what would be best to wear for the meeting, very aware that your go-to slightly sensual - but highly professional - attire was off-bounds. Sure, Mr. Park would be there and it worked beautifully in the first meeting you had before his company was bought - at that time you had another team leader too, so you were just there for eye candy, just like you were bringing TaeHyung for - but that was off the table since your, ahem, former brother was there too. It just felt wrong for some reason.

So deciding for another tactic, you chose something more high class to wear - since you'd be going to a building that wouldn't allow you stepping in the lobby if you weren't looking like you co-owned at least two companies - and decided to go by Jin's patisserie and grab his famous doughnut holes as a sweet treat, reminded that NamJoon brought a bag of them the other day and thinking at least JiMin would enjoy them.

"You're looking so grown-up today Y/N," TaeHyung commented as you waited for your car to arrive just outside Jin's, where you asked him to meet you. You scoffed, lowering the coffee cup he had bought you.

"I don't know what you mean, I am a grown-up - at least it's what my little cousins say," you quipped playfully, watching him snicker cutely into his cup of hot chocolate, which you would call him out later on.

"No, what I mean is that you look like a future-you, successful in all aspects of your life and..." He trailed off, looking away as if a little shy, prompting you to tilt your head in wonder.

"And...?" You pressed, finding his nervous expression something unusual on him. Usually, TaeHyung was a cheerful guy, reliable worker and you'd even go as far as calling him cute. Of course, he was the same age as you, but the description fits him well.

"I was going to say well-married to a successful guy, but thought that might offend you since you look very independent all the time, you know."

"It's kinda flattering the way you think of me actually," you smiled at him, getting a shy smile back. "Though yes, I'd like to get married someday but only after achieving all the other stuff." Chuckling, you bumped his shoulder lightly, taking another sip of your coffee.

"Oh, so there's still hope, huh?" You head him say as you turned to look at your phone once more, slightly concerned that the company's car would make you late to the meeting. Not today, please... Wait, what did TaeHyung say?

"Wh-"

Before you could ask him what he was on about, an expensive-looking car smoothly came to a stop right beside you, a cheerful man shouting your name across the other side, window rolled down. "You should be Miss Y/L/N, as the boss told me!" He spoke with a smile as you leaned down to the door to talk to him.

"Boss? Mr. Min YoonGi?" You chanced, wondering if YoonGi did own a car like that and if he would be kind enough to dismiss the company's car service - because you were well aware they didn't use those kinds of cars - and 'borrow' his.

"What? No, I mean Mr. Jeon. He asked to pick you at the company, but you weren't there. Good thing a friend of yours knew your location, though." You licked your lips, suddenly nervous. Jeon JungKook sent someone to fetch you? "So, shall we go?" He asked, and you jolted with a startle, glancing at TaeHyung that didn't seem to be much phased about the whole thing. Sure, he had no idea of your past with JungKook. NamJoon, on the other hand, would probably have a stroke. Or maybe you were exaggerating and had to check yourself.

Inside the car was sorta normal, but at the same time all-too-much like JungKook, the way he liked dark colors and cool appliances and his smell. The whole interior smelled like him and your heart was doing somersaults thinking about that.

"Seems like you made a good impression at that pre-meeting, huh?" TaeHyung whispered, bumping your elbow to call your attention. You chanced a smile back at him, shrugging.

"Mr. Park may have asked to do this out of kindness. We've worked with his company for some years, so..."

The driver snickered softly in front of you, drawing your attention to him, eyes meeting through the rear mirror. "Oh, I'm sorry miss, I didn't want to sound rude. It's just that Mr. Jeon asked me personally to fetch you and, sincerely, he doesn't do that to anybody. I'm his most personal driver."

At that information, you could only utter a tiny exclamation, something that the man sitting beside you must had thought amusing if his smile was any indication. It didn't matter at all that JungKook had sent his chauffeur instead of a regular one from the company. And that you were the one he'd ever do that for.

Maybe he was just trying to throw you off your game, intimidate you in some way? It sounded insane even in your head.

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

If anything, Park JiMin was a very pleasant man, most of all the best client ever and you were very sorry to have to work with anyone but him when it came to that beauty company.

"Ah Miss Y/L/N! On-time as always!" he chirped, getting up from the secretary's table where he had been probably waiting for your arrival, straightening his well-tailored dark grey suit before extending his hands to take yours in warm greeting. You smiled at him genuinely happy to see him, before introducing TaeHyung, that looked almost shy on the presence of JiMin, which whatever height he might lack - he was taller than you either way -, his charisma made up for it. So much that you even let yourself delusion that he was actually a friend and was currently wondering if it was okay to invite him for the later gathering in your apartment. Maybe that's a little too far, Y/N.

"I've brought you some treats to, you know, sweeten the deal we'll make," you motioned to the bag of patisserie hanging on your arm, that immediately caught the auburn-haired man, his little chuckling to your bad joke making your face warm.

"Then that probably came in a good time," he started, expression falling just a little as he looked up and sighed. "Today's not a good day for my partner as you will see when we arrive at the meeting room, so maybe those will ease his mood a bit." JiMin ran his fingers through his hair, the soft locks falling back to their place in beautiful waves and parting in the middle, revealing his forehead. At the mention of the other man you'd be meeting, your blood ran cold, heart racing as you glanced at TaeHyung that seemed quite calm, glancing around the floor. "But don't worry, I gather is something personal so I'm sure he won't let that interfere in our appointment."

You smiled tightly in an attempt to show that you weren't so worried about whatever the new owner of JiMin's company could be going through and started walking right beside him when his palm smoothly pulled your arm in guidance. Yet, the only thing in your head was that you were the only personal matter Jeon could be annoyed with. That, given he did recall your birthday too.

                            --------------------------------- As promised, Jeon JungKook was pissy once the three of you arrived at the room, frowning expression barely smoother before getting up to greet everyone. You couldn't help swallowing dryly when he squeezed your hand, trying not to look him in the eyes but failing upon feeling his burning gaze on your face. Truly a threat to your professionalism.

Still, the meeting went as smoothly as it could, with barely any interruptions to your presentation - TaeHyung also managing to respectfully take some points and answer their questions even as a trainee on the team - and minimal changes to the whole project, which would be put to processing the next week. It had been the most you've spoken to Jeon in three years.

His mood, on the other hand, was still a little sour even if he had, by himself, finished all the doughnut holes you've brought, which clearly had made him a little more agreeable. JungKook had always been snackish, that was a fact.

In the end, the deal was made, but when you got up from your seat with a relieved sigh to greet both men in front of you goodbye, never would guess that your hand would be held tighter by no less than Jeon JungKook, hesitant eyes looking back at your utterly surprised and confused expression.

"Uh," he started, licking his lips in what you would understand as nervousness, breathing in quickly. "What about we all go to celebrate?" And then JungKook grinned expectantly, glancing from you to Jimin, which had his eyes trained to Jeon's hands still holding yours before snapping back to reality.

"Well, we could surely... Oh wait, this is the first deal you've ever closed!" And then JiMin turned to you with a bright, gleeful face. "We should definitely celebrate, it's JungKook's first deal and your great work today! What do you say?" The puppy that was Park JiMin yapped happily and so excitedly that saying no would certainly feel like you had just kicked the pup. Looking at TaeHyung for some sort of support - he'd been so talkative when it came to explaining the digital stuff and now had closed off again you wanted to kill him - but only got a shrug in response. It was up to you to decide, how nice.

"I'll give a call to our boss, see if he doesn't have anything else to work on." You said, knowing quite well the only appointment for the day was that meeting but hoping that YoonGi came up with something last minute.

No such luck.

So as you waited for the partners to organize everything and check their schedule - fingers crossed for unavoidable appointment-, you decided to text NamJoon about the matter, quickly letting him know you'd probably be late for the party but that he could, as always, let himself in with his spare key.

"Hope we didn't interrupt any plans with your boyfriend," JiMin popped in beside you, positively making you jolt in surprise, hand to your chest as you chuckled.

"No, NamJoon isn't- And it's just a small party later on, I was just..." For some reason, you couldn't find a way to explain properly and ease his worries, even more, when Jeon was also walking up to you three, gaze always on you.

And as if you had prompted him to, TaeHyung gasped in surprise, eyes wide as he touched your shoulder. "Right, today's your birthday as well!" He exclaimed loud and clear, prompting your cheeks to burn and the need to punch him felt practically unbearable. Now he decides to speak?!

"Congratulations are due, I see!" Ripping away your glare from TaeHyung that had the nerve to look guilty after practically yelling at the company about anything else that not an emergency, you turned to JiMin and his bright smile to thank him for the good wishes. JungKook was also smiling, looking even pleased for your awkwardness.

"All the more reason to celebrate then, don't you agree, Miss Y/L/N?" He asked with a hum, expression just a tiny bit defiant and smug. What could you say? No? Impossible. So with an inner sigh, you only nodded meekly.

"Great, I'm paying then. Shall we go?" JiMin grinned, extending his arm to you, always the gentleman. Giggling you humored him, linking your arm to his as he guided you to the elevator, taking the front. If there was a good thing on this whole mess, it was Park JiMin.

__________________________ masterlist

[briangroth27]

Bumblebee Review

Bumblebee is a genuinely fun, kind-hearted family film and it’s very likely the best of the Transformers franchise. I still enjoy the first Transformers, didn’t like the second or third, and never bothered seeing the fourth or fifth, so I can’t be a true judge, but based on what I’ve read about the latter two I’m not planning on catching up. I also wasn’t expecting much from this film given how the franchise has gone, but I came away pleasantly surprised! Bumblebee tells a refreshingly focused and simple story about the friendship forged between the titular Autobot and Charlie Watson (Hailee Steinfeld).

Full Spoilers…

The movie starts off with a bombastic and frantic escape staged by the Autobot rebellion back on Cybertron, and while the action here (and throughout the movie) is cleanly and clearly shot—as I’ve seen noted elsewhere online, a nice change of pace from the other films in the franchise—I can’t say that I’m invested in the Autobot/Decepticon war at all. I’m all for a good ol’ “overthrow the fascist, freedom-oppressing evil empire” story, but this particular conflict just doesn’t hit the right notes for me for some reason. I don’t really know how the movies can fix that at this point (maybe more focus on showing, not telling?). Likewise, the movies haven’t made me a fan of any of the Transformer characters besides Bumblebee (Dylan O’Brien). Maybe that’s because of a lack of nostalgic recognition on my part—I’ve seen a handful of the original series episodes and the animated movie—but my main (and favorite) Transformers point of reference is the Beast Wars CGI cartoon from the 90s (Transformers Prime was also good, but didn’t stick with me in the way Beast Wars has). I think my lack of connection with most of the Transformers is also definitely due to the fact that Bee is the one who gets to bond with the humans most in the films, so I’m much more attached to him than Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen) or the others. I know a lot of fans have argued that the humans take up too much focus in these films, but Charlie and Bee (and Sam and Bee in the first one) bonding goes a long way towards humanizing and endearing these aliens. Besides, even in the vast majority of the cartoons, humans played a role.

In Bumblebee, I wish Bee got a chance to show more personality before he lost his voice. B-127 is certainly noble and heroic, but that seemed to be all there was to him at first. The more sheepish, injured version of Bee displays many more volumes of character (maybe because that’s when he gets to interact with Charlie?). I don’t believe for a second that trauma or tragedy makes characters inherently deeper or more interesting/engaging than happy/heroic ones , but because of what little we see of Bee before his voice box is (horrifically) ripped out, the temporary removal of his heroic veneer does a lot to expose other aspects of his character. In any case, Bee’s arc back to his ability to communicate and to reclaim his heroic mantle is solid and his recovery story was very well-told (pairing nicely with Charlie’s own recovery from loss). I also like that this film franchise, if nothing else, has never fallen for the idea that the most popular character (Bumblebee) needs to also be the leader of the Transformers. Not only is that a unique position, but in a way it puts him on the level of the kids he most closely bonds with. They aren’t the “leaders” in their lives either (that would be their parents/authority figures).

Charlie Watson was very likable and Steinfeld did a great job carrying the human side of the movie, perfectly balancing Charlie’s urge to get out and live her life vs. her resistance to change in her family and the dark cloud hanging over her. Her being a mechanic played well with a robot alien and also formed a strong connection to her dad (Tim Martin Gleason), whose loss is the source of her turmoil. That gave her and Bee a stronger bond than Bee playing wingman to Sam in the first film. I also liked that Charlie becoming Bee’s protector, healer, and disciplinarian made for a cool twist on losing her father, instead of Bee becoming her new father figure. While there’s a certain cliché connotation to making a girl into a mother figure in media (especially when there’s only one girl), while I think their relationship forces Charlie to grow up and accept more responsibility I don’t think it goes as far as saying that being a mother is her only destiny. Knowing Bee also gets Charlie to take more chances and move forward with her life, which had come to a stop in terms of fixing her dad’s car and getting back into diving, and I thought that worked pretty well. The car metaphor (Charlie needs to literally work on and repair her feelings about her dad’s heart attack via the Corvette they were working on together) is perfect, but the diving stuff is introduced a little awkwardly. It seemed like the school bully/popular jock Tripp (Ricardo Hoyos) existed almost solely to goad Charlie into jumping off a rock at a beach day hangout. That’s fine—he was barely a presence in the movie, so he truly does solely exist to challenge/further Charlie’s journey—but that scene also being the first big instance of her reluctance to take up diving again made things feel a little off or sudden/slightly random in some way. Still, the loss of her ability to dive is a neat connection to Bee’s loss of his voice; I just wish what it meant to her was a little more fleshed-out. Tripp’s girlfriend Tina (Grace Dzienny) being a mean girl made Charlie an outsider among her peers, which was a pretty good connection to Bumblebee among the humans. I’m glad that Charlie and her neighbor Memo (Jorge Lendeborg Jr.) didn’t end up together (even if she said “not yet”). The chemistry between Charlie and Bee was much stronger than between her and Memo (even though both relationships were platonic), and she never seemed to have a glimmer of romantic interest in him. And that’s totally fine! Healthy, platonic friendships between girls and guys are something we should see more of in movies and TV. Along these same lines, it was refreshing that they didn’t film Charlie with a male gaze. Charlie’s problems with her family (Pamela Adlon, Jason Drucker) moving on with her mom’s new boyfriend (Stephen Schneider) were well-developed and fit with her inability to move on from her dad’s death, but I wish that they’d been given a bigger moment where that family coalesced into a new family unit. The moment where it happens (in the middle of a car chase) is certainly dramatic, but it also felt too quick.

The villains, both human and Decepticon, were used well. Burns (John Cena) made for a good soldier stuck in a bad situation with orders he disagreed with (he’s the only one to point out their name is a big red flag), even if he still mostly follows his orders until the end. I was very happy that the “comedy” of Section 7 from the original Transformers films was largely dropped here, as that was always one of the weaker parts of those films to me. The Decepticons (Angela Bassett, Justin Theroux, David Sobolov) were suitably evil and imposing, if one-dimensional. I don’t need all villains to have a relatable motivation (sometimes evil is just evil), but the fascistic element of the Decepticons could’ve been played up in their dialogue and interactions with Bumblebee.

The effects were well done and I liked the use of the 80s here. The Decepticons gifting the humans the internet (to use it for their own nefarious purposes) was a nice tie back to the first movie’s comment that so much of our technology was reverse-engineered from studying the All Spark and Megatron. The songs they chose were still popular and recognizable, but not necessarily the songs that almost always accompany a trip to the 80s, which was nice. There’s one cliché and overdone bashing of “Never Gonna Give You Up,” but otherwise this was a refreshing change of pace music-wise.

I really wish we could get more adventures with Charlie and Bumblebee teaming up, but they go their separate ways at the end. It feels a little like the filmmakers felt they had to wrap everything up here instead of hoping they’d get a sequel (which is not at all a bad thing!), but closed the loop to the first film a little too tightly. Maybe there’s still a way for Bee and Charlie to meet up again in the future. Either way, this was a very enjoyable flick in the “80s kids meet an alien” vein and I definitely recommend it!

 Check out more of my reviews, opinions, and original short stories here!

[onemerryjester]

Shallura Week Day 1: First / Last

Rated PG-13 | Friendship/Romance | Shallura with slight Adashi | Post S-7

Summary: The two talk about their past, present, and future one night overlooking the memorial wall. 

Finally got this done days late, but I hope people like it! Yah that’s the memorial wall in the pic and it's at a distance from them.

~~~~

Shiro remembered those short nights at the Garrison, when the facility would be astir with activity even in the deadest of hours. The hums and drumming of echoing chambers, the low shrill of machinery, and the patter of feet as officers and engineers walked about in their array of responsibilities were like a lullaby back then.

The nights were short because sleep used to be an afterthought, three hours of it before duty called again and he was back in high gear. It was a way of life for everyone at the base. The explorer in him, however, always yearned for more, pushed further and higher even when his body said it was enough, even when his failing health had tried hard to pull him down. The Kerberos mission had changed everything. No, his destiny had changed everything.

And change came with a different life. A different purpose. A unique place in the galaxy. That was the first calling. 

He thought he had achieved it all. He fought through the worst of everything and saw his comrades grow and become leaders in their own right. But something still felt missing. It was not apparent during the fight to save Earth nor during the aftermath that pushed him tenfold to be the voice of reason and inspiration for his people, his team. But it was now.

The last few months at the Garrison were the hardest, when the storm of activity after nightfall were no longer lullabies in his head. They would not put him to sleep, they would not leave him to rest. They were suddenly loud, suddenly demanding. After the war for Earth, sleep was just a blur for all of them, a random blink in reality before the truth that their planet was no longer the same set in. He had been reborn and reformed, but it wasn’t enough. Even now, even here, he felt torn about his place.

And it came with a question. From her.

“What happens after all this is over?”

It was as simply put as the air they exhaled as their eyes searched for meaning in the rows and columns of fallen soldiers in the memorial room. Shiro had disappeared there hours ago, moved by some unconscious motive to look over Adam’s name and ponder over his life. Their life.

He didn’t know that she would walk in later – she above anyone – adorned in the Garrison uniform she was given with her hair loose around her shoulders, as if she was caught between being on active duty and calling in for the night. But her face had betrayed all the reasons.

“I can’t sleep,” she had said. “I needed some time to think. My apologies, Shiro.”

He had strangely remembered a time when they had this same exchange, when he had urged her to get some rest. This time, he didn’t stop her.

“No need, Allura. You and me both,” he followed her movement with his eyes before taking a seat on one of the three steps that faced the memorial wall. “But I have to admit…I didn’t expect you to come here of all places.”

A small smile crept to her lips as she walked over to an assortment of names. Some of them belonged to those who had died during the first invasion before they came to earth, and others during the last war.

“You’ll be surprised. This is probably my third time in months,” she continued. “I may not have known them personally but…I’ve always had a habit of honoring the dead. As you know.”

Shiro did not respond. He knew that very well.

She chanted some prayers and moved down the rows slowly. He gave her the space she needed even when it felt tempting to say a word or two, even when he had been the one keeping distance ever since she put him back into his new body and later powered his new arm. It almost became a habit, going about their different ways to fulfill the same goal. They had hardly talked when everything else seemed more important. He didn’t realize it until now.

“I came here to do the same,” he found himself blurting out. “To see someone.”

He cursed himself for bringing up something unnecessary. But Allura had turned her head at him curiously before turning back at the wall.

“What was he like?”

Shiro had least expected for her to say something so soon, and if she did, he expected it to be business. Everything was about business between them now. But this was different.

“I’m sorry?” He had to be clear whether what she was asking was true. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” she looked at him apologetically. “I heard it from Pidge’s father in passing and…nevermind, forget what I said.”

“No, it’s okay.” He impulsively reached his hand up when she had moved her face away. He didn’t expect her to find out, nor could he tell how much she already knew about him, about Adam. But the little pricks and prods in his brain were overcome with an eagerness for this new distraction, a reconnection with a feeling he thought he had lost.

“Adam was...” Shiro tried to pick at everything he knew of him, everything he remembered. He scraped past the news that had brought him grief, the slow realization and acceptance that the man he once loved was never going to come back. He knew this was war, he knew going in he had to accept anything and everything. But on nights like this, when the noise was too much and his ability to be the poised captain everyone revered him for swayed, he felt urged to come here. To think of old times. To dwell on what was and what could have been. Most of all, to ask what was his purpose now.

“He was an honest guy,” Shiro settled on an answer. “A true friend, a confidante. A great pilot. I was very lucky to have met him…even if it didn’t work out in the end.”

She had made her way to his side then, sitting down on the same step he was on.

“I understand. He must have been quite a person,” She smiled at him. “I’m sure he would have been proud to see what you’ve become.”

“Yeah…” Shiro added slowly. “After everything…I know he would have.”

He wanted to say more. Much more. But he thought again if this was the right time or place, or if it was worth having these talks with her at all.

“I knew someone too.”

There was a pause, and Shiro looked at her from the corner of his eyes, his ears perked up enough to let her continue. He wondered if it was more out of his duty than curiosity, but it could have been both.

“I never told you…or anyone. Actually it’s a memory I’d often forget because it was a long long time ago.”

“In Altea?” Shiro found himself asking.

She nodded. “She was a friend. A close friend when I was growing up. Possibly one of the few who could deal with me.”

Shiro took the chance to ask this time. “What was she like?”

“Kind. Virtuous. Funny. Much braver than me,” she spoke. “We were inseparable, even during my royal duties. I guess because I wanted a friend my age so badly but…she was special. I told her that when the time came, I would marry her. She had agreed. Everything was well, and then of course…Zarkon…”

Shiro nodded, knowing it too well. He let her pause. “Adam and I…we were going to marry too.”

Allura pushed some strands of hair behind her ear to look at him, almost forlorn. “Fate plays a cruel game, doesn’t it.”

There was a time when Shiro would have agreed, but this time he merely shrugged. “It does. Or...it prepares you for another path. A bigger destiny.”

There was a tired chuckle.  “A bigger destiny, huh,” she said. “Sounds even crueler.”

“This was all out of our hands,” Shiro added quickly, his floating arm that held her crystal making contact with her shoulder ever so firmly. “There was no one to blame. It was just…all meant to happen.”

He noticed her hand reach up to his fingers, pressing over to show a sign of agreement. He knew by now the kind of person she was, how much weight she had to carry. They were both leaders, and he understood it was not easy – it was not easy to not blame oneself, or blame anything else for that matter. Adam had told him once that he couldn’t have stopped him if he tried, because destiny was stronger. And blaming destiny would have driven anyone mad.

“I know…” Allura finally said. “I guess I can’t deny that if everything didn’t happen as it did, I wouldn’t have met any of you. I wouldn’t have been in this fight so much bigger than myself. And be here, on your planet, sitting at this very spot.”

Shiro licked his lips before continuing. “Likewise, if a certain princess didn’t trap me and my comrades and throw us into one heck of a journey of our lives, I wouldn’t be sitting at this very spot either.”

He could have sworn it was out of impulse on how fast Allura struck his back playfully, a laugh escaping her lips. He followed along.

“Trapped you, is it? I mean it’s fair…” she smirked. “But if you want to talk about greater callings, then let’s not put all the blame on me now.”

“I would never.” Shiro responded. “You could say I’m thankful.”

There was a moment when both their eyes met, and Shiro waited for her to speak.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me at all.” She whispered. “I don’t deserve to--”

“I should. I always will,” Shiro was quick to refute. “After what you’ve done for me – everything since the beginning – I’m always indebted to you, Allura. I just feel like an idiot for not saying it sooner.”

A smile plucked at her lips, and she opened her mouth to say something, but she chose to shut them before leaning forward to wrap her arms around her knees. Her eyes turned back at the wall, and only then did Shiro felt the loneliness, that sense of distance that she –and he, himself—had made for themselves.

When she spoke again, he already knew they were thinking the same.

“So...” she then whispered. “What happens after all this is over?”

Shiro fished for an answer, but he knew he didn’t have one. If he did, he wouldn’t have come here in the dead of night to look for it. He wouldn’t have been searching for a purpose still, this calling beyond his duty to be their captain, their beacon in times of crisis. It was a strange craving that kept him awake at nights now, mixed with a deep-set guilt on whether he should have just stayed on earth along with a fear for the unknown future. They were all uncertain after their planet had taken a beating, he was sure of that. But this was different. This feeling had no plan, no explanation. And he wondered if she felt it too.

“I’m still working on figuring that out…” He rubbed the back of his head. “But whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

“Like old times?” She asked, placing her cheek against her knee to look up at him again.

“Yeah…like old times.” He smiled back, this time as warmly as he could. He had hoped that in some way or form he could let her know that she didn’t have to fear their relationship being any less than before.

“I like it when we talk like this,” Allura added softly. “With everything that has happened, It’s nice to be vulnerable with someone. Someone I trust.”

“Same here.” Shiro responded. “We can do this again, if you want. You’re always welcome to.”

“You’re too sweet, Shiro.” Allura chuckled. “I’ll make a note of that. And you know you are welcome to do the same.”

She then stifled a yawn and leaned back for a stretch. Only when he realized that she was probably ready to leave that he put words to his wayward thoughts.

“You know sometimes...I feel that I don’t deserve this.” He touched the base of his armored arm, feeling the magnetic force that had bonded him to it.  “Your compassion, Keith’s loyalty, everyone’s encouragement, all of this. I guess it’s because I feel like I should be done by now, just be content with where I am. I should stop trying to find meaning in greater purposes, if that makes sense. That’s for all of you to do.”

“What are you saying?” Allura was quick to turn to him, fueled with that instinctive readiness to save him like she always did. “You are the captain of the Atlas, the commander, once a rightful Black Paladin, you inspire Keith and Lance and Pidge and everyone in so many ways. Your people will always need you, Shiro. The Galaxy will need you. Even me.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “And if you still think that’s not enough...that’s okay. You’re young, Shiro, you’re so young, even for a human.” She took a deep breath, as subtly in the silence as possible. “I do it too...think about those things. I ask myself where I really belong and what would really happen to me, you know? But you said it yourself, there’s a bigger destiny for all of us. And as long as we face it together...we will be okay.” 

He didn’t notice when Allura had turned her whole body in his direction, or when his hand – his human hand – came up to pull a strand of her hair away from her face, feeling its soft texture before letting it fall to her shoulder.

“I know. I still remind myself of that. It’s that thought that took me to the stars many times. And I don’t think I am done yet.” Shiro spoke slowly, “I think there is still a purpose for me -- for us -- and I think you can help.”

Allura searched his eyes. “What do you mean, Shiro?”

“When this is all over...” he picked her hand in his and patted against it, leaving an invisible pact that he felt he owed her since day one. “I want to tell you something. It’s too early to say now, so we’ll have to pray that the chance will come soon.”

She blinked hard before making a face. “I really hate secrets, Takashi Shirogane.” Her face relaxed before she formed another smile. “But if that’s what it will take, then I will wait. Patience yields focus, as some wise man likes to say.”

Shiro chuckled, a lighter feeling taking hold of his chest. They probably were in that room for awhile, and daylight was sure to be around the corner. He didn’t think he would come this far, to engage and bring meaning to the things that he could not understand. To do that with her made that much of a difference. He didn’t have to wonder why. Just watching and dreaming in silence together spoke more about that space between them, and how it was shrinking piece by piece. 

And then when it was time to part ways for that night, Allura offered him something more.  

“It’s hard not to miss them...our loved ones. Our first loves.” She motioned towards the wall, towards the section Shiro knew held his name. “They teach us to open our heart in a different way. Even when we can’t be with them, even when we can’t share their future…we still have something from them to keep us going. To someday find someone else.”

Shiro only registered her words after she bid him goodnight and left to return to her room. It was only then when he felt a softness in his chest that he never felt before, a resurgence of faith, of feelings lost and then returned. Adam, he knew, was his first, but he wasn’t his last. 

“I’ll tell her someday.” Shiro thought to himself. If she was to be his last, he had to make it worth it. 

He returned one last smile to the man who gave him a meaningful past, and a nod to a future that he hoped to build. There was still more to explore, more to expect, and he thanked destiny for being on his side still. 

[arguedquill1226]

Hollowed Heroes

chapter one (18+, MINORS DO NOT READ)

Summary: BuckyBarnes x FemaleReader-you have a unpolished past but you want a true chance at doing good in the world, to redeem yourself. Oh! And you happen to live and work with the Avengers sense the fall of shield while doing it... everything changes one day when Steve brings home a stray. What can the future hold for you and the team? Will this change the dynamic of missions? Will this stray be the answer to some of your darkest secret? Only time will tell...

Word count: 2,790ish

Taglines: 18+, Marvel AU, angst, explicit language, cursing (more to come as it gets deeper into the story)

Notes: Hi everyone! This is my first ever post of AU Marvel fanfic so please be gentle LOL...in short I've flipped some of the canon facts around like Sam and Steve got really close while shield is still in operation but age of Ultron happened before the triskelion incident in DC. So the facts are still the same but flipped or altered to work for my AU timeline. I'll try to fill in the differences as we go along with the fanfic, but I'mma Bebe writer so bare with me and my terrible grammar and punctuation XD so I apologize ahead of time! Also I do my own photo edits but I get a lot of the pictures of of Pinterest so all the credit goes to the OG poster of those pics...Happy reading & Hope y'all enjoy!

PS. I post from a mobile device so sorry for filling your feed and no keep reading option 😢

Updated on January 22, 2021

••••••••••

Chapter one-

First Impressions…

Tired and your eyes are burning. You casually lean against the wall with your knee bent and foot pushed on a piece of industrial paneling in an open debriefing room surrounded by soft sunlight and windows. It’s fairly early in the morning and you’re zoning out looking at the rich wooden floor while Tony drowns on for what felt like the 10th time on how you and Nat’s night op went and what the information you gathered meant for the “big picture.”

You had completely understood the gist of what he was trying to explain the first time he went over it. But when he gets on a roll with an audience, you know better than to interrupt him or let your sarcasm get the best of you. You and Nat were beat but the others had shown up late to the debrief so you just thought about getting out of your gear and hitting the rack for a few. The room was fairly quiet, with only Tony talking. So it wasn't hard to hear down the corridor a heavy set of metal doors close calmly with an mild echo…a side effect of having such wide open spaces on the operations level of the Avengers compound.

The noise had jarred you out of your dazed thought patterns. When you looked up, it had dawned on you that not everyone you'd had expected to see was in the meeting.

Steve.......where is Steve? Was your initial thought.

You and Steve had gotten close over the last 10 months sense Nat had brought you into the fold a little while before S.H.I.E.L.D fell. About as close as him a Nat. Sam had always joked with you 3 about being “the three musketeers” on ops. But you didn’t care because it was all in fun and was kind of true. You all had your particular skill sets, but also some skills that we’re similar. So it was easy to fall into step with each other.

It was then, you could hear hushed voices right outside the door frame to the room. Within seconds Steve and another man obscured slightly behind his right shoulder had entered, quietly sliding over to lean on the opposite wall from you hoping to not interrupt Tony you had guessed. He'd seemed to notice you following their movements with curious eyes and gave you a kind nod that you returned with a saw smile.

You glanced over quickly at the stranger. He was about as tall as Steve but thicker with broader shoulders. Dark, unkempt hair came down to his jawline obscuring his main features along with the black ball cap he was donning. He wore an Army green utility jacket over a light blue plaid shirt, denim jeans with boots. Dressed very mundane, perhaps too much. What struck you as especially odd was the fact that he was wearing black leather gloves out of season for upstate New York. It was early autumn, still fairly warm outside.

Steve had backed out of this last mission with you and Nat to deal with what he would only describe as a “personal matter,” so you started to wonder if this man had anything to do with that. Steve had explained how he had full confidence in you two to handle a simple stakeout/smash and grab on our own. So neither of you pressed him for more info and wished him luck.

A few seconds later, Tony had finished and everyone was content with all the information given and was about to stand when Tony, being snarky, acknowledged Steve finally showing up to the meeting.

“So nice of you to join us, we were helpless without you Cap!” Tony stated while waving his finger at our fearless leader dripping with sarcasm.

“Sorry Tony, I was hoping to be here earlier to talk to you.” He said a little unsure of Tony’s reaction to the stranger he glanced back at.

At that action, Tony seemed to register something in his memory. Possibly something him and Steve had discussed in private you wondered. Possibly something about this strange man who seem to be fairly familiar to you but you couldn't place him…By this time, everyone but Nat and Sam was staring back at Steve and the stranger waiting for an explanation. Those two seem to know something you and the others didn't. Nat looked at you out of the corner of your eye.

Who was he?...you wondered.

•••••••••••••••

He was nervous walking through the double doors in the corridor leading to a room that he could hear some guy rambling on, the voice sounded vaguely familiar. Looking back at the exit while the doors echoed shut behind them, Steve assured him that he wouldn’t let anything get out of hand and would explain everything to the group who may not understand or be upset that he had found the man Steve new long ago and was bringing him home like some lost pup...which Bucky hated to think of it like that but the man was damn determined and stubborn for him to come back with him. Bucky knew this team was established to do good in the world but he didn’t know if his presence would upset their carefully built dynamic.

Steve had left 3 weeks ago on a solo op that he was quiet about any details to most of the team but Sam and Tony knew. And Nat guessed it when she had seen the three in an incognito meeting disgusting details on a large timeline display of information Friday, Tony’s helpful A.I., had up about the ghost from more than just Steve’s past. Even with how close Steve, Nat and You are…you all have your individual secrets and knowledge that hasn’t come up in conversation. And Steve didn’t know that you had your own run in with the man he was about to walk through the door with right now. But Nat did know, but choose to not tell you this fact and may be regretting it that the moment. But it wasn’t her secret to tell Steve so how was she supposed to explain to him that not everyone may be okay with this.

Nat had warned Steve once at the cemetery when she gave him a copy of the file from Kiev. But she did it again a second time that evening. Before he and Sam left to find his oldest friend. He had promised to take what she said to heart and to not push Bucky or the others into anything they weren’t comfortable with. But they left anyways. Sam had returned alone 8 days after they left and only would say “it went as well as could be expected and Steve (more likely, Bucky) just needed some more time.”

In that time away, the boys found Bucky on a tip from the Smithsonian video feeds and CCTV which of course Bucky didn’t know was a thing. So it wasn’t hard to track him down and they found him in a seedy motel living on stolen credit cards, junk food from gas stations and a few random notebooks looking so lost. They had only left a note on the door to his room, letting Bucky know they wouldn’t bother him. But they added a phone number and that they could help him learn about his past, if he wanted. He thought about it for days before he called the man from the museum exhibition, the one everyone called ‘Captain America.’ He was starting to remember flashes of memories and feelings over the last few months away from Hydra's grasp, but couldn’t seem to make sense of them on his own. So he said, “fuck it!” And met the two men he recognized from that awful day in Washington DC.

•••••••••••••

They did help but his mind was far from perfect and he felt like an exposed nerve walking through the door to the room.

Fuck, so many people!

So he ducked his head and stayed near Steve. Even though he only knew the man for a few short weeks, he felt like he could trust Steve unconditionally which wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He recognized the guy talking as the famous Tony Stark or aka ‘Ironman.’ He was grateful when Tony didn’t really draw attention to him directly and chose instead to pick on Steve.

Bucky took the opportunity to scan the room. An old habit from all the Hydra training or maybe from howling commando days. That wasn’t clear to him yet. He seen some faces that were confused or apprehensive. Two he recognized to be Sam and a girl he thought was named Natalia, he’d hoped she didn’t completely want to shoot him for what he tried to do to her in DC and whatever else he may have done. She didn’t look upset though. She looked unsure, then glanced to a quiet girl he hadn’t noticed until he followed Nat’s eye line.

It was you, a beautiful girl nonchalantly leaning on the wall in a “back of the class” kind of way. With long, YC hair that was a bit wild from the long night and deep YC eyes with messy black smoky eyeshadow that resembled war paint. Dressed in all black, holsters and straps. She wasn’t like Natalia dressed in a sleek look though, more apocalyptic and organic. Weathered Moto pants, combat boots and a loose fitted, faded black tank top that had a worn group of holes reminiscent of bird shot where your utility belt buckle rubs against the material. Your jacket discarded on the floor haphazardly by your feet. Almost familiar to someone or something he’d seen before…wait………..yes……definitely someone………..shit… and the memory slips away…

Bucky was completely stunned by how beautiful you are. But he didn’t want to seem like a creep so he kept his glance short before looking back at Natalia and Sam. He had completely ignored what Steve was saying to his friends, being stuck in his thoughts when he heard Tony say,

“This is James Barnes everybody. Don’t be afraid to say ‘Hi' and remember to show him to his room later, will ya Cap?”

“He prefers Bucky actually,” Steve says nodding his head to the rest of the group “and I will. Thanks again for understanding Tony.”

By this time, Vis, Wanda, Tony, Maria, Rhodey and Clint began filling out of the door past Steve and Bucky with quick greetings and smiles in a hurry to get to their priorities for the day…whatever those were. You found yourself smiling and wanting to giggle at the thought of Clint’s main mission probably being to eat the last donuts in the kitchen of the compound, when you realized Nat had walked up to you and Sam had joined Barnes and Steve by the door. Nat was obviously trying to block his view of you for some reason. As good as she was executing a distraction, she should’ve known better as that was one of your many skill sets too.

That’s when you realized Barnes kept his head coy but was glancing at you periodically over Nat’s shoulder. It wasn’t hard to see because you were slightly taller than Nat so she couldn’t really block him from looking your way. It struck you differently than it usually does when someone stares at you. Normally, you cringe and feel awkward in a personal setting with someone staring at you. But this time it’s like his eyes are drawing you into a trap. His eyes…holy fuck, you hadn’t noticed his eyes. Before they were hidden under the bill of his hat but now they’re looking directly into yours and they’re the brightest slate blue color. You easily spot them from over 15 feet away.

Nat notices your eye contact and she scoops up your jacket and shoves it lightly to your chest. You grab it while she simultaneously hooks her elbow around yours and leads you out of the room. On your way by the three men, she smiles and says,

“see you boys at the gym later.”

Bucky follows you and Nat’s path with his eyes as you hang a left leading into the section that has the hanger bay on your right heading to the elevators on the left that will take you up to the living quarters. He turns back to Sam and Steve to find them looking at him.

“Don’t worry, YourNickName isn’t anyone you need to worry about. She’s actually really cool.” Sam says with a smug smile on his face like he noticed something.

Bucky repeated, “YNN?”

“Ya, it’s short for YFirstN. She’s been working with us for a while now but she’s still kind of the new here too. Now, how about a tour?” Steve added.

Bucky nodded in agreement and they walked out of the room heading in the same direction as you two did. Hoping he may run into you again while Sam and Steve kept pointing out what different sections of the compound were used for.

•••••••••••••

After you and Nat we're a little ways away from the debriefing room, she started some small talk about how nice a hot shower would feel right now and you agreed wholeheartedly. But stepping into the elevator, you couldn't shake the feeling that you wanted to go back and properly say hi to the new guy Bucky and welcome Steve back.

Nat told you with a smile sensing your thoughts, “don't worry, we will see Steve later at the gym. And later for movie night. You know how Tony gets if we don't show up for his events, we should catch up on our sleep now so we're not late.”

You giggle, “events?... It’s a movie Nat.”

“Ya, but Rogers is back and brought Barnes with him so now he’s going to go overboard and really make it a picture show.”

“Yep…agreed. It’ll be a whole thang now!” you say over exaggeratedly with you hands and jacket waving back and forth while rolling your eyes. “Hopefully he doesn’t plan on showing anything Charles Chaplin for our sakes!” you yell jokingly while turning away and jogging down the hall. You hear Nat belly laugh before you both duck into your rooms for some much needed R&R.

It doesn’t take you long to peel your gear off and start the shower. It starts to whistle due to the steaming hot water shooting out of the head while you bun your hair on the top of your head and flop your towel over the rod. Ready for the inevitable soap in your eye somehow because you’re secretly a total klutz. You turn the water down a tad and start your music on your phone and jump in while you start to sing along.

You’re clean and relaxed in no time at all so you shut off the shower and hop out, throw on a tank and shorts and turn the music down a bit. When you walk out of the bathroom you hear a familiar voice pass by your door. It’s Steve saying, “and your room is right here, mine’s just down the hall and Sam’s is around the corner if you need anything.”

A door in the hall latches softly, then…… silence. You open your door to hopefully catch Cap before he runs off and he’s already in front of your door. His hand up looking prepared to knock and eyebrows raised with a smile on his face when he sees you.

“Hey!” he boasts.

“Hey you!” you reach for a quick hug and he gladly accepts. “We all missed you.”

“Well I’m back now. So you don’t need to anymore. Listen, can I ask you a favor?” he asks with a grin.

“Of course!”

“I hope you don’t mind but…uh…I gave Bucky the room next to yours. And I know you don’t really know him…or anything…I guess what I’m asking is, if you see him out and about can you help make him feel welcome…I figured sense you’re still kind of new maybe…” He tries to explain while rubbing the back of his neck and looking shy.

But you hold up your hand to stop his awkwardness and say, ”yeah, of course Steve. Anything for ya.”

“That great, thanks YN, you rock!” he says beaming.

“Not a prob. Now unless you have any better uses for my bed you’d like to personally show me?” you tease with a sarcastically sultry expression to see if he blushes.

“Uhhh…I…” he totally does.

“That’s what I thought,” you giggle and shoo him off. “I’m hitting the rack, night Stevie!”

“But it’s day!” he jokes as he head down the hall as you shut your door.

You climb into bed thoroughly enjoying the thought of how your sense of humor and Steve’s reservoir of pent-up 1940s sass effortlessly fits together. Within seconds of getting comfy and turning off your tunes, you’re out.

Chapter Two coming soon... Masterlist here

***if you liked this please feel free to let me know with a *reblog or ask* thanks so much for reading!!!

[flusterfluff]

We were outnumbered, and our head cleric called out sick. Shame, because she was the Leader’s wife. The Support squad needed a new lead, our one Seeker, the only spare person with experience leading a squad, was required in the Archer team. After the battle, I learned that it was something along the lines of fifty two enemies to our measly thirty-some. But first, let us back up a bit. 

Ruthless was a rather... well, Ruthless faction, for lack of a better word. In our latter days, we had somewhere around 150 to 175 members. Hard to tell specifics with everyone leaving here and there because the decaying state of our guild. Of these, lets say 175 because it makes math easier, the ranks fell as follows:

Leader. We’ll call him Brillopad. Or, Brillo.

Leader’s Wife/Director. She’ll be Onyxia.

Marshals. There were four slots at this rank, but we only used three. The most trusted of the leader duo. This was myself, DPS squad leader, and I think the Tank squad leader.

Executors. Ten of these, basically incredibly active and loyal players used for managing the lower ranks.

150 other people, hand-picked by Marshals and up for their combat ability, or ability to farm for guild mats.

There was a weekly event where various factions fought for control over the world map, to have their faction’s name present along the zone name when loading into any given area. These battles got... heated to say the least, but I’ve talked on the mechanics here before. The important thing to recap is that player limit is 80 per team, but the most active factions can only field 30-40 at a time. 

This meant that Ruthless divided it into four squads. Each squad of ten people was led by someone that would normally use voice chat over Raidcall to call the shots and the squad’s targets. Normal leads were:

Brillo, leading either Tanksquad or Archersquad. 

Onyxia, leading Support squad to lend help wherever needed on the battlefield, basically a flex position

Nameless Seeker, leading Archersquad when Brillo was on tank duty. Archersquad was mostly DPS oriented, using their head to debuff a group of targets and make them take more metal damage

Nameless Barb, who led Tanksquad while Brillo was on his archer. Basically just to pull catapults to damage towers and... Mechanical things. 

One of several random people leading StraggleSquad, for people that came in late. Often used to reinforce Archersquad. 

As stated above, Onyxia called in sick, and she was the only one experienced in leading the Support Squad. Normally, we’d have Nameless Seeker lead support, but he was needed in Archersquad, because Brillo was down a tank in Tanksquad and had to fill there. So, he calls for me in Raidcall, and tells me that he’s going to have me lead the Support Squad. Problem being that, at the time, I didn’t have a microphone. And also no experience shotcalling. I told him this, and got reassured by both Nameless Barb, Nameless Seeker, Brillo, and one of my best friends in that guild that I would do fine.

Brillo, the fool, the idiot, made the fatal mistake of asking me what I needed in order for my unique role as a Heavy Armor Venomancer to function at its full potential. This day, and never again, I was given reign over the composition of my squad. He asked what classes I needed, I called out in Guild chat nine names. Not classes. Not roles. I needed BeefCake the Barbarian, MysticHeal, the off-meta Mystic that specialized in, whaddaya know, healing, TANK, two Clerics, one of which being my best friend in the guild, the other being infamous for trying to DPS instead of healing, a Venomancer that I had briefed beforehand on how to operate in a squad with me and had trained with, and “Whoever else you can spare for DPS”. Brillo, the madman, let me have our second and third best tanks. From his own squad. We were operating crippled, missing half our potential catapult pullers due to my insane request, our best healer due to “illness”, and, ten minutes into a two hour war... Our leader. 

Brillo left early to go help Onyxia irl. I worked together with Nameless Seeker to lead the fight in his stead. The Raidcall was in panic, but I had everything under control. Together, the squad leaders (And BeefCake, who left to go help the CataSquad mid-match), directed the fighting while I called out general strategy. While typing. And directing my squad to specific targets. Via typing. While we were in a voice call. This was while playing the single most strategically complex and reflex-intensive build in the game. 

Battle highlights:

1) Brillo leaves without designating a leader, Archersquad gets wiped, Catapults get reset, Support Squad and StraggleSquad, sixteen people in total fend off a wave of three mixed seven to ten man squads, protecting our tower. Three assassins jump our healing cleric. I peel, drop their attack speed and damage, and the DPS cleric works with an archer to get a combined triple kill while I shoot a cleric out of the sky by turning it into a cat. 2) BeefCake gets reassigned to CataSquad on respawn because he got combo’d by two Wizards at once. Ouch. Said Wizards feel my wrath. One gets Kittified, the other gets sent back to spawn with my trademark OHKO combo, amped by a local Metal Mage (Read: DPS cleric) to bypass his buffed defenses.

3) My biggest Purge ever. This is why I’m Sage. My Debuff Purge gets a small five foot AoE. I hit eight people with it at once. What happens next? You hear Nameless Seeker CACKLE on voice, call target, and arrows rain from the sky, wiping a full squad after he debuffed them and triggered charms.

4) The Coup de Grace. This one deserves its own post, but to summarize, it’s the story of how I killed an entire army of fourty plus people with little more than psychological warfare. Oh, and a targeted transmog that turned someone into a cat for six seconds.

6) Reinforcements. FeedMy/PoL/arm, the enemy leader, got reinforcements, Brillo came back to see us still alive, got ignored, raged in VC for a bit, took control of his faction back by force, and proceeded to lose us a won game. I consider this TW a victory. I won. I don’t care if we lost the land. We might not have. Our enemy faction lost face, and I finally considered the score even for the one time the enemy leader continually spawn killed me for teh lulz.

The conclusion of this entire territory war is fuzzy in my memory. We might’ve won. If so, only barely. We might’ve lost. If so, only to enemy reinforcements pushing a 32v40 to a 33v52 in their favor. What does matter, more than who won the fight, was the aftermath. Within a week, Ruthless fell apart. I think the leaders got divorced. Both yelled at me for siding with the other because I chose to be neutral. That’s another story, as well. You could say we lost the aftermath, either way...

But our opponents, our biggest rival at the time? Completely lost face. I’m told their leader was screaming on voice chat, cursing me specifically for my tricky dickery that got him killed. Many of his followers lost faith in him, and soon... They crumbled, too. 

And that’s how I killed two of the largest factions in EPW at the time by taking command of ONE battle! This is why you don’t let me lead things, Brillo. You fucking numbskull. This is why I can’t have nice things.

[jzakatocblog]

Basic Bio

Name: Justin Michael Zakat

Birth Date: January 16th, 2251

Age: 26 during Fallout 3, 36ish during Fallout 4

Species: Human

Gender: Cis Male

Height: 5′5″

Build: Skinny, somewhat frial

Physical traits: Astigmatism, heterochromia caused by trauma, severe plasma burns up right forearm, prosthetic right hand, small frame and stature, bad back, vague tribal tattoo on right upper arm.

SPECIAL: Strength 7 - Perception 7 (8 with four eyes trait) - Endurance 5 - Charisma 4 - Intelligence 8 - Agility 10 (12 with small frame trait) - Luck 1

Hair: Generally keeps hair shaven or in styles involving mostly shaven head. Body is slightly speckled with body hair. Generally doesn’t grow facial hair.

Ethnicity: Primary ancestry from the United States Province of Canada.

Personality: Has two general modes of interaction. Generally he is cold, dismissive, will only give you one word responses or as little as possible. He wont be rude, but he just doesn’t work well with people. Justin, however, is addicted to mentats. When he’s high on Mentats to any degree, he is much more congenial. Not happy, but certainly looks it at times.

Allegiance: Enclave (Formerly) 

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

Place of Birth: Somewhere in California

Spoken Languages: English, some Chinese

Eye Color: Right blue, left brown

Hair Color: Dark brown

Weight: 145

Weapons of Choice: Besides the fists of a power armor suit, Justin enjoys using his 45 auto pistol and a power fist when on foot. 

Skills: Tinkering, working on power armor, operating power armor, being an asshole

Strengths: Very agile and flexible, trained in kickboxing and MMA to a lesser degree, fully trained soldier for the Enclave.

Weaknesses: Weak back from starting power armor training at too young of an age, cannot carry as much as most others his size and weight. Suffers from PTSD, his triggers are generally plasma explosive related, but is instantly distraught from the sight of a T-45 helmet. Smoll boi.

((IC part))

I was a soldier since I was a child for the Enclave, it was my life, and my parent's life. I was born into it, and I expected my kids to be born into it too. Fate had other ideas. When the Enclave rose in the Captital Wasteland I was proud to serve. By the age of 22, I was made a squadron leader, and by 25 I made a batallion commander. When I turned 26 was when the Enclave came forward in DC. That's when everything changed. I lost everything in the blink of an eye. The older members of Raven Rock said how this was fitting. For the Enclave and the Brotherhood to meet yet again. We lost. We lost majorly. When Raven Rock was destroyed, I nearly died defending the entrance from that damn robot of theirs. I survived because I was in a medical tent at the time of the explosion, a sniper clipped my gun and caused it to explode. When the shock wore off I got to see the last bit of my hand dissolving in a puddle of plasma. I survived though, and I kept working. I was made Colonel due to the Enclave having no leadership left and commanded many operations out of a basement somewhere south of DC while the real Enclave fought out of some giant tank thing at  But just like Raven Rock, the only home I knew, the crawler too met an end. With the true leadership and Squad Sigma gone, just like that, we had no choice. The Brotherhood took everything from me, and left me to run with what little I could carry. I ran. With the last loyal soldiers I could muster. We ditched our uniforms, our flags, and took up waster outfits. We were still loyal to this country and the Enclave, but the time of proud soldiers was gone. It was now the time for cults, and the Brotherhood. That lasted until about two years ago. A Brotherhood agent ran into me on the marketplace of Rivet City. It was a normal encounter, until he saw my missing hand and scars. Of all the people it had to be? It was the sniper that took my hand. He attempted to arrest me, which turned into a firefight in the marketplace between my soldiers and Rivet City security. Only me and Christine Kang made it out. Kang was a good soldier, but more importantly she was smart. She ran when she realized the fight was lost. She and I knew that the Enclave wouldn't have a chance to come back if we all died there. We didn't get far. Made it to the metro station before a vertibird's spotlights zero'd us, then a pair of power armored boyscouts marched up to us. We'd lost that day. Well I lost. When I turned to look for Kang, she was gone. I never did find out where she went.

Life in the Brotherhood jail cell was as you'd expect. Getting spit on, saying how they wished both of my hands were melted, hearing them ridicule John Henry Eden for being a robot. Maybe he was an AI. I never did see our president's face. But you know what? Who gives a shit. He led his people like a true leader. It was that ass hat Augustus Autumn that fucked things up. I got spit on a lot for him too, despite never liking the guy. I spent a long time in that cell. I hear it was a little under a year but it honestly felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of having my head forcefully shaved at random points, getting beaten and left unconscious on the floor, being stripped during cold nights. Compared to losing my hand, this was nothing.

One day, about twelve ago I guess, one of their robe wearing dickheads came in to talk to me. She asked what I wanted for my last meal. I was surprised at first. All this time, and now they suddenly wanted to execute me? It was strange. I told her to fuck off, and she did. But then someone else came in. Someone I didn't think to see. They were invisible as they opened the door. When they came into sight, it was a ghoul in some kind of stealth armor. He bowed to me, and introduced himself. Well he sort of introduced himself. He said he represented someone who needed to hire me. I would have asked who, but honestly? An invisible ghoul fucking walked into my cell and said he wanted to hire me. I was a little bit dumbfounded. He explained that the Brotherhood are preparing some kind of aerial exodus, and that they were going to execute me so they didn't have to bother making a cell for me. At that point... I said yes. He hadn't even told me what it was, but fuck it. If he wanted to get me out of death, to help me see the world again, I didn't care what I was doing. In hind sight. I should have actually heard his offer. As he explained things, I started to realize who he was. He wasn't an American. He was a ghoul from China. He explained that he was tasked by his employers to destroy some target, an extremely advanced pseudo society of scientists and other dickheads with tech who are conducting operations far up the coast and they simply didn't have the kind of people to do it. He seemed to hint that this target was unreachable. I kinda think he meant it was extremely defended or something, that a full front attack was suicide. He wanted me to go to this place and find a way to help his mission. I had already agreed, and I kept the good, American standard of keeping to my word, so I told him I was ready. He laughed since... I only had my underwear on me, but knew what I meant. After a year of being mostly naked you kinda forget about modesty and shit like that.

As I stood, the ghoul agent turned and spoke some foreign words over his radio I assume. And with one swift, loud slam, the wall in front of me, the wall that led to freedom, fell over. The agent pushed me through and told me to run, and god did I. The thing that toppled the wall was an old, pre-war car. A working one, which is extremely amazing in itself. I jumped onto the trunk and the car drove off. I never did find out what happened to that Chinese Ghoul. The Enclave in me told me to hate them, but honestly? I don't think China survived either. I think these guys are just like what the Enclave was at it's core. A group of people, banding together to help fix America. Maybe they didn't chose it willingly, maybe they got trapped here before the war. It didn't matter to me. When I meet our next President, I am going to make sure they get a pardon, and maybe even citizenship. They just helped keep the American Dream alive.

Eventually, they stopped when we were safe and let me get into the car's inside area as we drove. The trip took almost an entire day, since what used to be Philadelphia kinda got fucked up by Raiders. When we finally arrived, the Chinese ghouls opened the trunk, put two large crates on the floor, then bowed to me. I don't think they spoke English honestly. They said a few words, probably in Chinese, then got in their car and left. I've not seen them since, but I know they will come back when I do the job. And do the job I will. No Enclave soldier simply backs down from a fight. 

[piermanwalter]

Megatron’s Weed Dispensary: An Awful Fanfic I am Morally Obligated to Write

Because I noticed my grades weren’t good enough to get into my major, I issued myself an ultimatum: For every percent I get less than 80 for every class by the end of the school year, I will write one thousand words of terrible fanfiction over the summer, as suggested by random people online. You can send me your own unwritable prompts if you want, but bear in mind that the more requests I get, the shorter the stories, because I have 8000 words to get through all of them. (Total combined word count: 1889)

As promised:

Just as the first brittle rays of light shone over the horizon, the alarm went off. Megatron hauled himself out of the chair he shut down in last night while dealing with tax forms for too long.  Pouring himself a cube of energon, Megatron made his way downstairs to the storefront. His past self would probably hate him. Shrieking like a predacon and promising to tear the entire planet apart just so everyone could suffer as he had, Megatron knew it was his own weakness and incompetence had led to their defeat, and was prepared for death. The Autobots, in all their soft and cowardly ways, had let them live in their new society, making sure he was protected from anyone seeking vengeance for the war, albeit with a few restrictions. Some mercy. He would prefer to be rotting in prison, exiled to some tiny asteroid, publicly executed, or even be forced to become a gladiator again. Instead, the great leader of the Decepticons is reduced to managing microeconomics in a tiny narcotics shop surrounded by too many gawking idiots too frightened to enter his shop and actually buy something.

The few Decepticons that had survived the last battle were also doing about as well as he did. Not destitute, but not allowed any amount of power, which he supposed they deserved.  Soundwave works as a building electrician, granted the privilege of internal com reactivation for good behavior. Astrotrain joined one of the newly formed shipping companies. Knock Out became a broadcast host, getting all the attention he wants at the expense of reading out prewritten propaganda drivel. At least they weren't nearly as badly off as Starscream, who was last seen going to Earth to become a stripper or something and never spoke to them again. In the early days of their integration with society, the Decepticons constantly planned secret meetings and vandalized government property, but now, it had seemed that everyone got caught up in their mundane routines and completely forgot about their past lives.

Speaking of which, a seeker who had been nervously pacing through the crowd finally worked up enough courage to enter the shop. What was his name again? Nacelle. A low ranking grunt soldier who managed to survive the war by being overlooked. Now that the best fliers were dead, he finally had a chance to shine as a professional racer. Looking proudly down upon the Decepticon logo the flyer chose to keep, Megatron said, "Still have the mark? Good. What are you here for?" Nacelle cleared his throat in a long burst of static. "It's my fault. We had a chance and I blew it for all of you. I thought I could weave through without getting stuck and-" "What happened happened. It's all ancient history now. Don't let it bother you." The last battle was fought in a series of deep tunnels below Cybertron. The cramped spaces were barely enough to stand in, let alone transform and fly. There was nothing a seeker jet like him could do. "Hey. Um… Boss. I'm sorry, okay? If I wasn't-" "You could have gone to the big pharmacy, but you came here, and my life has gone to slag so hard that this action matters. Ha! You did good."

Nacelle started nervously chuckling, so Megatron had to throw his head back and guffaw as hard as he could in order to get the nervous flyer to laugh with him. Now significantly more cheered up, he said, "Hey! Because I got hurt in my last race, I just got my Level 3 insurance voucher approved! No more weak stuff for me." Nacelle peered greedily into the display cases. "I'll have two centagrams of crystal tetrathyllead, a bottle of uravorite-infused high grade, two octane-cookies, half a kilo-" "You idiot. Don't get yourself killed. You'd be better off following the doctor's orders. I recommend 85 kilograms of the good anticorrosives, not the diluted trash they pipe into you in hospitals, taken over the next six weeks. Pick the brand yourself."

Torn between extreme curiosity towards hard drugs and wanting to obey his leader, Nacelle anxiously shuffled around and took so long to decide on a bottle of Velocitron-synthesized DCI-4A that Megatron started to pity him. "You know what, I'll throw in one of these for free." He took out a case from under a desk and opened it to reveal tiny jars of even tinier gems ranging from ice blue to deep green. "A racer like you should know what these are." Nacelle was shaken from his panicky mood the instant he laid eyes on the little jewels. "Wow! Steamlights! I didn't know there were any of them left in the city! Most of us racers got scared off using them after Fireflight popped two in a row and crashed into the ground at Mach 3." Megatron carefully tweezed out one of the smaller steamlights, a tiny blue cylinder barely bigger than a basketball and dropped it in a vial. "This is amazing. But…wow. These things are super intense." Handing the vial to Nacelle, Megatron replied, "That's fine. If you can't deal with the boost and your turbines detonate midair, consider it the price of failing me in the tunnels. Don't use it until you have fully recovered." His plan of rebuilding Cybertronian society may have died valiantly, but Megatron was still going to look after his troops the best he could.

Megatron's good mood was almost immediately ruined by his next customer. Out of all the mecha to come through the doors, it had to be the Autobot poster boy himself, Ultra Magnus. Glitch. "Hello! I've been making rounds, checking up on the other Decepticons. I really am glad that you are all doing so well. It is a bit suspicious for a mech of my standing to be here, but here I am." After the war, Ultra Magnus, the ever-faithful soldier, had much less to do and had let himself go a little bit. His protoform increased in non-subspacable mass enough that gaps appeared in his armor, but not nearly enough to warrant Megatron's spark crushing insults.

"You morbidly obese son of a Yugo. The only reason I let you in my shop is to marvel at the medical miracle of your sustained existence." Ultra Magnus cracked a sickeningly genuine smile and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't catch what you were saying." The store made so much money off valuable goods that it could stay running from a single sale per day, so Megatron legitimately didn’t care about losing a potential customer. "I'll say it again in a way your idiot prototype cyberbrain can understand. You're a chunk and I hate you." Ultra Magnus was mildly shocked. "Well! I didn't expect you to overcome our mutual grievances this soon, so whatever you say is entirely forgivable. Also I met Shockwave today, and I'm glad to say he was very courteous. Do you want to know how he's doing?" "I can ask him myself. Go eat Optimus Prime's tailpipe. Maybe that's why you're so slagging fat."

"Don't act as though you are different from me." For a second, Megatron thought they were actually about to start fighting right there, then Ultra Magnus winked. "To be fully honest, being here to check on you gives me an excuse to gather a few treats for myself without being caught. You won't judge, right? I'll take half a kilo of hypervisco and three bottles of the ferroin Engex. Ooh. Baltic amber oil from Earth. I'll have fifteen liters of that too, thanks." Deciding that Ultra Magnus wasn't worth the effort to continue yelling at, Megatron measured out the orders and accepted the credits in silence.

Megatron briefly entertained the idea of contaminating all of his product with acid crystals and astatine, but decided against it. He might kill or sicken the slagger before he got caught, and then he'd spend a few centuries in prison, then Prime would argue to put him through another course of rehabilitation, then he'd be stuck in another dead end job under much higher supervision. Like it or not, this Primus-damned stall was all he had, and it mattered greatly to Megatron that he got to be his own boss, make his own decisions, and yell at as many customers as he wanted.

After Ultra Magnus left, the crowd outside thinned. It was getting dark. Nearly time to close. Megatron debated shutting the shop early before deciding to stay open in case a few late night partiers wanted to pick up something fun. Megatron was shaken from his daydream about what his legal consequences would be if he ate forty kilos of steamlights and went on a uncontrollable nitro-fuelled rampage when a minibot burst through the doors, vaulted over the counter, and grabbed a case containing sealed vials of concentrated Berserker Button. As bad as it was for the mighty Megatron to be robbed by a random mech, at least this meant he had something to do.

Leaping from behind the counter to the door in two massive steps, barely remembering to trigger the hard light door shield, Megatron unsheathed the energon blade from his wrist and turned to pursue the target. A pathetic weapon compared to his massive fusion cannon, but he was able to get it installed as a necessary tool of his profession. After all, it's not as if he was lying.  With his massive stride compared the minibot's short steps, the thief barely made it one block before Megatron knocked him to the ground with a flying kick, a bit of overkill for such a tiny opponent. The bot pulled out a beam pistol. Caught up in the thrill of the chase, Megatron nearly decapitated the little bot out of instinct. The blade stabbed into the ground a single meter away from his neck. Interrupted by a regular police patrol, Megatron was more than happy to surrender the thief to them. The little bot had been so terrified the random drugstore he robbed was staffed by none other than Megatron himself that he confessed everything. The Berserker Button was confiscated as evidence, and Megatron was allowed to return home to await further legal procedures the next morning.

Even after the leisurely walk back, his coolant lines still pumped hard, preparing for a death battle that will never happen. Megatron laid face down on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the feeling to pass. Able to think clearly, Megatron figured that the legal procedures tomorrow would be formality more than anything else, considering the overwhelming evidence in his favor. He'd likely get reimbursed for the Berserker Button, then things would go back to normal. The case was at most going to take three days, barring some stupid Autobot-Decepticon rivalry showing up. Looking back, this was probably not the best day to spew horrible insults at one of the most influential figures of society. Either way, there was nothing Megatron could do about it. He felt a pang of guilt. In the past, he and his army would have bulldozed anyone who dared inconvenience him, and now he was acting like a regular civilian. Just in a day in the life of an ordinary mech. At this point, what did the last six million years mean to him or anyone else?                                          

[kathyprior4200]

Hazbin Hotel Pilot: That’s Entertainment! (Kathy Prior 42 Remix)

“A Helluva Beginning”

 For millions of years, far off into the vast expanse of space, there were three known worlds: Heaven, Earth, and Hell. In Heaven, perfection, order, fun, and peace were the main priorities. Merged within all black matter, Mother V created God, who in turn, created everything. God often appeared as a man wearing a top hat with a Christian Cross on it, with a similar appearance to Jesus. Other times, He appeared as a single eye with galaxies spiraling in the ethereal orb. His Archangels served as his guards and advisers: Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael and the angel of Death, Azrael. They made up a larger angel council, which discussed different matters. Some of the citizens were humans with white wings while others were animal-like, displaying features of swans, dogs, cats and other “nice” creatures. Some even had the features of plants and musical instruments. The majority of the Archangels had white faces, red blushes on their cheeks and silky hair.

 The buildings in Heaven were silver, gold, and some were embedded with precious gems. The citizens learned prayer, singing, dancing, and being kind to each other. The society was heavily bent on basic rules: honor thy father and mother, no smoking, drinking, lust, or gambling. Cussing was not allowed. A glowing blue Christian Cross remained overhead in the blue sky.

 But not everything was cheery in paradise. In fact, God himself declared that only human souls worthy enough to balance out their sins with virtues would be able to go to Heaven when they died. White, straight, Christian men always got the first pick by default. Indeed, only a few elite had the privilege to pass through the golden gates… the rest were sent to Hell, even ordinary do-gooders who were still seen as “flawed” by those in Heaven. The standards of perfection were practically impossible for anyone to live up to.

 God and his motherly ally Adina weren’t happy that the formerly loyal light bearer Lucifer had been a traitor. Lucifer created Hell as a world where sinners could do what they wanted. But to those in Heaven, the sinners needed to suffer and learn their place. So God, Adina and the angels came up with a solution: the Exterminators.

 The dark ruthless beings appeared to be hybrids between angels and dark monstrous birds of prey. Their faces had LED grins and Xs over their right eyes. They had horns and long bird-like necks and talons. The Exterminators were used to exterminate the citizens of Hell to not only reduce their population, but to also plant fear. They possessed silver holy weapons that could kill any demon. The beings were made creepy on purpose: to fight fear with fear. They were sent down once a year to Hell purging the citizens at random.

 Lucifer was originally a light-bearing angel, and part of God’s inner circle. He looked very similar to his current appearance: white face, short white elegant hair, and pearly white teeth (not sharp fangs). Like the other archangels, he would make sure that everything was in order, that rules were followed, and that the former humans were having fun. He even helped make chains of flowers and daises.

 Lucifer’s fall began one fateful day when God created mankind, declaring them to be children made in His Image. The special treatment didn’t sit too well with Lucifer, who prided himself on being the most divine angel under God. Why should Man be able to reproduce and get into Heaven, when the angels were inherently superior?

 God welcomed ordinary people with open arms. What was even more bizarre, was the arrival of former humans now in animal-like forms and vivid colors: horses, dogs, lions, eagles, even mythical creatures. Appalled by the sudden changes, Lucifer claimed that those “inferior mortals” should not be granted access to paradise. God and the other archangels disagreed with him.

 Raphael was Lucifer’s opposite. Unlike him, Raphael was kindhearted and discouraged any form of pride. He took his role in service to God very seriously…and if that meant the creation of humanity, then he would still be loyal. Gabriel and Michael quickly took God’s side.

 It wasn’t long before Lucifer and the archangels Michael, Gabriel, etc. engaged in battle. Lucifer wasn’t alone: there was another angel named Azarael who was Lucifer’s friend and adviser. Lucifer fought Gabriel and Michael with his signature sword, the Morning Star.

 Michael also battled Lucifer’s darker form Satan, which had emerged from him after his anger was released. Michael used a flaming sword while the darker Lucifer used the similar version of Lucifer’s weapon. Satan was quickly vanquished from Heaven, soon trapped in Hell’s Ring of Treachery.

 Michael and Gabriel eventually won the battle. For refusing to obey God, Lucifer, Azarael and the other rebel angels were cast from Heaven and banished to Hell as punishment. Azarael would later become a demon and a teacher of the dark arts in Hell.

 Lucifer was one of the few who knew the names of the robotic purge Angels of Death: Puriel, Kushiel, Teneluehus, Raguel, Wormwood, Jeheel, Zacheniel, Ababhar, and their leader, Abaddon. Originally regular angels sent to punish the souls of sinners, they were later modified into the ultimate killing machines. Sent down to Hell once every year, they slaughtered the citizens at random to control the population and strike fear into those who oppose God. Lucifer, however, wasn’t afraid…he only wanted vengeance for his banishment.

 Instead of fearing his form in Hell…Lucifer embraced it. Testing out his newfound powers of destruction, he decided to take a position of power and rule as he saw fit. How did he do that? By murdering opponents and becoming the king of Hell. (However, he and Satan were different entities).

 The first king of Hell was Bael, who had the power to make himself and his army invisible. Paimon was the second king, teacher of science, the arts, and made great contributions in expanding Pentagram City. The third king, Beleth was ruthless and cruel to the lower class and even to his own subjects. He rode a black war horse made of dark flames. Beleth overthrew Paimon and Bael and became ruler before Lucifer arrived. Asnodi was a king of another circle of Hell, with the heads of a bull and a man. Vine was gender neutral and created storms using only their mind. Beleth defeated the seer kings Purson and Balam, the bull king Asnodi, and even Zagun, a ruler who could turn water into blood and oil.

 Eventually, Lucifer engaged in battle with Beleth and the kings…and won. He became the new ruler of Hell and the older kings were quickly forgotten. The red apple was adapted into the architecture of his mansion and an apple stood prominently on Lucifer’s staff and white hat to show his status. This was reminiscent of the legend of Adam and Eve. Lucifer created purple snakes for decoration and defense, also related to the snake Satan, who had deceived Eve in the myth.

 Lucifer had fellow frenemies known as Astaroth (the dragon creator of self- doubt) and Beelzebub (a greedy wealthy Fly Lord). They made the Unholy Trinity and each agreed to rule different areas of Hell (though Lucifer was the most powerful of the three and was known by the majority of Hell).

 Lucifer then met the beautiful Lilith, with her long pale hair, graceful figure, and powers of her own. She had been Adam’s former wife and wanted to be equal to him instead of submissive. Lilith was kicked out of Eden and was given a choice: either reside in Hell or be forced to give birth to demonic offspring only for them to be killed each day. Lilith chose Hell and soon gave into her selfish ways. She was formerly human but became a succubus demon.

 Lilith’s life changed when she met Lucifer. Here was an individual so similar to her. Lilith became queen alongside her husband, soon performing in shows and creating a resistance force. Lilith also worked as a model, becoming very influential. For many years, Lucifer and Lilith were constantly busy with keeping up their status, interacting with other elite officials, etc. The couple shared stories of their banishments, enjoyed each other’s appearances and after some heavy drinking and sex, they gave birth to Princess Charlotte.

 Their bright little daughter would change their lives more than they could have imagined.

 “Charlie’s Childhood”

 A loud screech echoed throughout the industrial hospital somewhere in Pentagram City. Lilith was lying down on a bed, legs apart, sweat coating her forehead. Beside her was her husband Lucifer, who put a comforting clawed hand on her shoulder.

 “Keep pushing, mon amour,” he encouraged. “It should be over very soon.”

 “That’s what you said several hours ago,” Lilith countered, her face straining. “We were so close to making it back to our comfortable home, but then…”

 She paused after catching her breath.

 “…my water broke, and now we’re at this slum of a hospital instead. With these…things to keep us company.”

 She looked at the busy imps nearby with disdain in her yellow eyes. One of them was busy administering medication into her lower back to ease the pain. Two others stood close to her legs, ready to deliver the child.

 “My privacy invaded, just before my midnight photoshoot,” she muttered. “At least I haven’t changed into my nicest dress yet.”

 She was wearing a crimson long red dress with black zebra-like stripes running diagonally down the front. Another dress was neatly folded in a nearby suitcase. She blew a strand of her long blonde hair away from her pale face. Her signature long red horns protruded from her head. Her black crown of thorns was nettled in her leather purse on a side chair.

 Lucifer was wearing his traditional white and red dress suit with a black bow tie below his neck and fancy long white pants. A large white top hat nested over his blonde slicked hair. A purple snake and a red apple were also on the hat. His cane had a matching red apple on the top. His skin was pale white, his eyes were yellow, and his cheeks had red blushes on them.

 Lilith sighed, already concerned with her upcoming tasks for the week. Besides modeling and negotiating with elite officials, she was a singer of a band called Resist. “When I’m done with this, I’m going to have to come up with another song for Resist. Maybe something called, “Angel Anarchy.” Or “God Backwards is Dog.” “Evil’ is ‘Live’, Backwards?” Should I do a haunting solo…or try for a metal scream?”

 The contractions began again, and the demon mother wailed in pain for several minutes.

 “Make it stop, make it stop, uuuughh…” she groaned.

 Lucifer turned away slightly. He was used to hearing and seeing his opponents and victims writhe in pain, especially after his conquest of Hell many years ago.

 But seeing his wife in pain like that…

 “I’m going to be a father…I can’t believe it…”

 “It is nice to have a greater purpose in life, besides just being rulers of Hell, don’t you think?” Lilith asked.

 “I guess you’re right,” Lucifer answered. “When our child is old enough, he or she will be able to carry out our traditions and be a great ruler someday. I already picked out a boy name: Azarael, after my former friend in Heaven.”

 “I don’t know,” Lilith countered. “It reminds me of those bastard angels too much.”

 “Eldritch, then.” He suggested. “It means “old ruler.” Our last name means “fierce warrior.”

  “Absolutely not,” Lilith argued. “What good would it be to have our child named after the last name of our rivals? How about a girl’s name instead? Something like…Vivienne! It means “alive.”

 Lilith looked at him. “Have you looked into our ancestry books at the library again?”

 “I have to find something to do when I’m bored,” he said. “Playing instruments and polka is wonderful, but sometimes I need some ideas.”

 Lucifer was still too embarrassed to admit that he was bad at playing the guitar and keyboard.

 “Do these ideas involve rooms besides our grand library?”

 Lucifer grinned and playfully winked. “Maybe they do.”

 “Remember when we met at that concert for the first time?” Lilith asked, taking deep breaths, trying to ignore the lingering pain.

 “Oh yes,” Lucifer said, nostalgia in his eyes. “I’ve never heard anyone sing as beautifully as you did that night.”

 “And then we went to the Damnation Bar several days later after Krampus came along for the holidays?”

 “Yep, I remember. Stupid old me got into a drinking contest with Beezelbub. You were drinking blood red wine and laughing your head off.”

 “You did look pretty silly dancing on the countertop when you thought you had won the contest.” She let out a soft musical laugh.

 Lucifer rolled his eyes. “But I did though! That Fly Lord cheated by flying around and gulping down several glasses in all six hands. I almost destroyed him too, but the room was spinning too much.”

 Lilith smiled. “The best part was when you went through your drunken phase. You massacred a group of demons because you thought they worked for Jesus.”

 “And we had tons of fun back at home,” he admitted with a sultry look.

 “It was both pleasure-inducing and equal,” Lilith added. “Unlike my terrible first intimate encounter with that stubborn Adam. I did love being on top at the very end!”

“Ooookay,” said a nearby imp out loud. “I think I’ve heard enough for now. How about I check to see what’s going on in there…”

 The imp male adjusted an emerging bald head and Lilith seethed. “You touch me like that again, and I’ll use your entrails for a necklace!”

 “What’re you gonna do? Charge me for rape? I’m just lucky to have a job in general, but that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it. Of all the snobby patients I’ve worked with…”

 A flick of Lucifer’s fingers caused the imp to explode in a mess of blood and organs. A dragon demon with a doctor’s coat peered in.

 “Clean that up,” he mentioned to another imp with a mop. As the janitor imp did his work, a red-faced female imp arrived into the room. She peered over at the ultrasound.

 After half an hour, the contractions began again, this time, more intense.

  “Non, non…merde!” she swore.  Lilith pushed long and hard, gripping onto the side of the bed.

 Lucifer and the imps comforted her over her yells.

 Then at last…the bald baby’s head emerged from between her legs, the head covered in blood. The placenta soon followed.

 “It’s a girl!” announced the imp.

 After the baby was cleaned, the imp placed the infant into Lilith’s arms. Lucifer and Lilith both cried with joy.

 “She has your horns,” Lucifer remarked, watching as small red horns shot from her head, then retreated back in.

 “And your face,” Lilith added.

 Sure enough, the girl had the same rosy cheeks and pale face as her father. Stubs of white fangs were already peeking out from her gums.

 “You know what?” Lilith asked. “I think I found the perfect name for her.”

 “I think I do, too.”

 “Charlotte,” they both said out loud.

 “Congratulations, you too,” said the female imp, who began running some diagnostics. “Part angel, part demon,” she mentioned, after a DNA test.

 “Very powerful indeed,” Lucifer said with satisfaction. “She will make a great Princess someday. Charlotte the Great.”

 When the family got home, Lilith placed Charlie in a comfy crib in the upstairs room. Charlie wailed and cried, not wanting to go to sleep.

 “I have an idea,” said Lucifer. He snapped his fingers.

 Two small animated snakes soon hung above her crib. They spun in slow circles on a mobile. Charlie stared mesmerized, even reaching out a small hand to pet their lavender heads. Lilith opened a window where the screams of victims and the roars of fires could be heard. Lucifer’s haunting lullaby added to the dark ambience.

  “Rock-a-bye baby in the dark pit

When the corpses rot, the flames will be lit

Writhing in pain as life slips away

Never seeing again the bright light of day”

 Little Charlie was soon fast asleep.

 Lilith gently kissed her daughter on her forehead. “Sweet nightmares, my darling.”

   Many years later, Lucifer was dragging a young Charlie over to a large room for her piano and music lessons.

 “Daddy,” she cried, “I don’t wanna go!” The young girl was wearing a black skirt, a nice white shirt with a black bow tie and black tap dancing shoes. She clutched one of her demon dolls in her hand.

 “It is important that you learn the proper techniques of playing and singing traditional songs.”

 “But I wanna sing my own songs!” the child protested, her short curly blonde hair bouncing up and down.

 “We can’t get what we want all the time,” said her father. “If you want to make a good impression on our people, then practice is the first step. Particularly at such a young age.”

 Charlie pouted as she walked into an ornate room with a black grand piano in the center. Her music teacher was a plump woman with peacock feathers in her black hair, teal skin, and a dress of sequins.

 Her instructor led her through several songs on the piano. Charlie’s shaking fingers struggled to hit the right keys at the right time. She flinched every time she made a mistake.

 At one point, she got so frustrated, that she transformed into her demonic self and sang one of her songs in a fury. Standing up and spreading out her hands, she lifted up the grand piano and threw it into the air. The instrument landed on her music teacher with a large crash. The demon teacher gasped and then her body went still.

 Charlie covered her mouth with her hands as a tense silence filled the space.

 “Oh, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean it…I just didn’t want to play anymore…”

 She glanced nervously at her father. But instead of anger, her father was crying tears of joy.

 “Oh my dear Charlotte, I’m so proud of you! You did a splendid job.”

 Feeling relieved, Charlie beamed and embraced her father.

 As the years went by, Charlie went through lessons on dining etiquette, manners, demonology history, music history, and politics. She learned Latin and all the ancient languages.

  During one quiet day, a young Charlie frolicked in the brown grass, while bare trees reached for the beige polluted sky. She wore a dress of white and dull lavender, with a matching colored sunhat with a pink bow on her head. She smiled as she sat down on her knees. A bunch of small red daisies dotted the field and she picked them up one by one. She held a bundle of them in her hands and sniffed their sweet scent. She heard a familiar voice nearby.

 “I never knew that natural beauty could exist in this place.”

 Charlie turned to see her mother walk gracefully through the grass. Her corset-like dress was light brown down the front, with long white sleeves and a dark brown top covering her shoulders and neck. Black gloves covered her fidgeting hands. A brown sun hat with a black spider and web on top nestled over her long blonde hair.

 Lilith knelt down beside her daughter in the grass.

 “Isn’t it wonderful, Mommy?” the young girl asked. “A whole bunch of flowers here for us to enjoy. Most of the demons here don’t appreciate the small things in life.”

 “That’s true,” Lilith replied.

 A strange sadness appeared in her eyes, which were yellow with black sclera.

 Charlie looked over. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

 “Oh, it’s nothing, Charlotte,” she replied.

 “Do you think I’ll be able to make friends?” Charlie asked. “It seems like not many people want to be my friend. They don’t even care that I’m a so called princess.”

 Lilith tried to find a way to comfort her.

 “Well, you’re always optimistic, positive in almost any situation. And you’re quite tough as well. No one has messed around with you.”

 “Like Daddy, said, ‘don’t take any shit from demons.’ What shouldn’t I take from them, exactly?”

 “Oh for Satan’s sake,” Lilith murmured.

 “Huh?” Charlie asked.

 “Nothing,” she said, waving a hand. “It just means be careful who you trust. Some may want to be your friend, but others are…wary. We’re the most influential family in Hell and we strive for chaotic order.”

 “Meaning like having parties and singing songs and stuff?”

 Lilith hesitated. “Well…yeah, if you wish.”

 Charlie beamed. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I bet we will do a great job for our new friends. Thanks, mommy!”

 Charlie embraced her mother and then ran around happily in the park.

 There was no point in Lilith telling her what was really on her mind. That Hell was no place for happiness and innocent fun. That many demons feared their family and envied them, like it was supposed to be.

 That Charlie would always be powerful and different…being part angel and part demon…and never living a previous mortal life.  

 “Souls Inside Monsters”

 “Charlotte, it’s almost time for the show to begin. Hurry on down!”

 A young teen demon was sitting in front of a mirror decorated with yellow eyes with black pupils along the elegant rim. She put on a dash of red lipstick while her two goat dolls, Razzle and Dazzle fixed her hair. The goat demon twins were dolls that had been brought to life for Charlie in order to serve as her bodyguards, musicians, and attendants.

 “Dad!” called the blond-haired princess from inside her room, “I told you to call me Charlie! Charlotte sounds too…strange.”

 “Well that’s your name, you should be used to it by now.”

 Charlie rolled her eyes and stared at her reflection: golden yellow eyes, a ghost white face with red blushes off to the side of her cheeks, razor sharp fangs when she smiled. She was so excited, she could barely sit still.

 When her attendants were done, she stood up to admire herself and her outfit. A candy red pinstriped dress nearly touched the floor and felt slightly tight around her waist. An enchanted light purple snake was wrapped around her waistline, both serving as decoration and self-defense in case of grabby onlookers. It was very similar to the snake that her father Lucifer kept around his white top hat (though both were protective of their owners thanks to Lucifer’s magic). Spider web leggings covered her pale legs and on her feet were black tap-dancing shoes. Finally, Charlie wore a black spiked crown with a red apple gem in the center.

 “My 150th birthday!” she exclaimed, doing several happy jumps. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while.”

 Indeed, it had been 150 years since she had been born in Hell to the king and queen. Unlike humans, the demons hardly aged at all, or if they did, it was a very slow process. (Then again, they were already dead, so it didn’t really matter.)

 But Charlie had heard of the interesting human tradition they called “birthdays” on Earth. She insisted to her parents they had to celebrate hers once a year.

 While Lucifer had been reluctant, Lilith agreed.

 “We can’t participate in that foolish human tradition,” Lucifer argued. “Especially since we aren’t alive and our people are supposed to be suffering twenty four, seven.”

 “If it makes our daughter happy, then so be it,” she said. “Besides, no one else has to know. It’ll be one of our traditions.”

 “Very well,” he said. “But since Charlie gets a special day of her own, why don’t we make some days special for us…if you know what I mean.”

 He gave her a devilish wink and she grinned in return. “A special day for domination…I’m up for that.”

 Charlie had then entered the room, asking “What’re you talking about?” and the topic was changed.

 “So, about that meeting with the other overlords?” Lilith asked her husband.

 “As usual, I warned them they needed to know their place.”

 Rolling her eyes, Charlie soon left to play the grand piano.

  “Are you coming or not?” Lucifer asked, snapping her back to reality.

 “I’m ready!” she called, opening the door.

  There was her father in front of her, smiling his nearly ever-present grin. Lilith walked over to stand beside him, wearing an elegant red dress and her usual black crown between her red horns on her head. She had blond hair even longer than Charlie’s and was taller than Lucifer.

 “Oh Charlie,” exclaimed her mother in a soft voice, “You look so beautiful! You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

 Charlie embraced her mother in a happy hug. “Come on, now,” Lilith said, letting go and beckoning her to come forward. “Our guests are waiting.”

 The “guests” were actually some of Lucifer’s snakes which he reluctantly enchanted to take on the appearances of…

 “Disney Princesses and Harry Potter wizards,” Lucifer muttered in disgust. “It could’ve been wounded demons sprawling in pain on the ground like in the past…”

 Charlie walked down the curving staircase down to the lobby of her family’s mansion. The “princesses” smiled and waved at her and some threw flower petals to her (which were actually dried scales dyed pink.)

 “You know how much she doesn’t like that,” Lilith mentioned. Charlie took the stage and began to sing.

 “But those enchantments aren’t even real,” he said. “It’s one of the ways to prepare her for her future duties as Hell’s princess.”

 “And what’s the other way?”

 Lucifer whispered into his wife’s ear and her eyes widened in both delight and hesitation.

 “Ooooh that’s right. Today is also that day.”

 “Surely she will enjoy getting a glimpse of what happens out in the world,” Lucifer smiled.

 “But…what if it’s too much for her?”

 “Too, much?” Lucifer asked. “She’s 150 now. She has to be ready. It’s a growing up right of passage that cannot wait any longer.”

 They watched Charlie take a bow as her doll demons clapped.

 “Trust me,” said Lucifer. “She’ll be delighted to witness her first…”

 “Cake!” Charlie squealed. “Oh my Satan, that’s amazing!”

 A devil’s food cake was rolled and set on a table in front of her. It had chocolate frosting (per her request), spidery snakes on the top and a fat red apple candle.

 After singing to her in their deep hellish voices saved for certain occasions, Charlie pointed her clawed finger at the candle and the flame shot into the air, bursting into red apple fireworks. The noise spooked the apparitions and the regular snakes appeared once more.

For the first half of the private party, Charlie entertained her parents by demonstrating her dancing skills up on stage. For Charlie, dancing and singing weren’t just hobbies: they were methods to express her deepest feelings that she couldn’t put into words. Razzle played the grand piano and Dazzle played a violin as Charlie sang.

 As the day neared its end, the clock outside rang out twelve times. In the past years, Charlie would head upstairs to her room to watch musicals while her parents went outside for some “entertainment.” Now this time, Charlie would get a chance to be with her parents.

 “It’s a special surprise, sweetie,” said Lucifer. “Since it’s a big day for you, I’d like you to follow us.”

 He said it as if it were an order. Feeling bewildered, but still very excited, Charlie let her parents led her up the elevator and toward the uppermost balcony. Razzle and Dazzle followed close behind.

 Soon, the group walked onto the balcony that overlooked the crimson sky and dark clouds of hell.

 Charlie stared out into the distance as the clock tower rang one last time.

 “I don’t see anything,” she said. “Are we waiting for fireworks? Or a rainbow?”

 “Silly Charlotte,” said her mother with a smile. “You’re about to witness something even better than those things.”

 “A spectacle that you’ll gladly remember for years into your rule,” her father added.

 Charlie smiled wide, until seeing a speck of something in the distance. It looked like a circle of white light that slowly grew larger into the shape of a portal.

 “Huh?” she asked.

 Lucifer smiled. “Charlotte, welcome to your first Extermination.”

 A swarm of dark flying creatures burst out of the portal. The shadowy figures rained down on the city below. Charlie looked closer and could see they had black feathery wings, dark curved horns and glowing white halos on their heads. Each one carried variations of spears, harpoons and other weapons in their hands.

 “What are those things?” she asked.

 “They’re angels,” said her mother.

 “Angels?” she asked. “You mean like the ones in human myths?”

 “No, dear,” said Lucifer, his grin wide. “These are no myths.”

 All of a sudden, one flew close by and Charlie reeled back in fright. The angel that glided past had an LED mask on with a large sinister grin and an x over its right eye. The angel threw the spear in his hand, and the weapon struck a large parrot-like demon in the heart. The bird let out a shrill squawk as it plummeted to the ground.

 Charlie glanced down at the streets and let out a sharp gasp.

 Down below, demons of all shapes and sizes scattered from the onslaught of Exterminators descending on them like hungry vultures. A demon with three heads was unfortunate enough to have a harpoon struck through all his heads, causing the creature to collapse. Two other angels were choking a red dragon demon, the creature’s eye bulging. Two hellhounds whined in pain as electricity from another spear struck them both in the backs. The bipedal canines crashed to the ground and did not move again.

 Nothing but screams, robotic laughter, and carnage. The longer she watched, the more frightened Charlie became. Soon, the rotten stench of death filled her nostrils.

 She glanced back at her parents casually watching the show from their chairs like it was a musical.

 Tears sprang from Charlie’s eyes.

 “What is all this?! Why are you showing me this?”

 “It’s a yearly extermination to reduce the population of sinners once a year,” explained Lilith. It was like she was talking about the weather.

 “Those are our people!” she cried. “And you’re just letting this happen?!”

 “There’s no need to act so brash,” Lucifer scolded. “It’s just a natural way of ensuring that evil gets a through cleansing.”

 “Cleansing? This is murder!”

 “Sadly, it’s a necessary act,” Lilith added.

 “As you know, I was once an angel,” said Lucifer. “I was banished down here and was nearly killed, myself. But then God, the angels and myself came to an agreement. The Exterminators could kill citizens in Hell once every year, while we, the royal family, would be left alone. It does make sense, considering we are the most powerful individuals down here.”

 Charlie took several ragged breaths. “What’s so special about us? What about them?!” She pointed down toward the fleeing demons rushing into cars, stores, and even dumpsters to try and get away. Down over at the poor section of Imp City, the imps were even less lucky. The ones who could escape were ones with enough proficiency to create small portals or to shapeshift into Exterminators to trick them.

 “This is Hell, Charlotte,” Lucifer said, eyes narrowing in frustration. “Suffering is what those lowlife scum deserve to experience. Just be lucky that we don’t have to deal with that.”

 “Vaggie,” Charlie breathed almost in a whisper, already concerned about her friend.

 “Now stop fooling around and embrace this momentous occasion,” said Lucifer.

 “The future?” Charlie asked softly to herself.

 “Remember in the future, you’ll eventually need to marry and produce a worthy heir to the throne,” Lucifer added.

 “No,” Charlie muttered after several moments.

 “Excuse me?” asked Lucifer, eyebrows raised.

 “No!” she cried, tears running down her face. Her eyes turned red and her long horns emerged from her head. “I’m not gonna sit here and let more of my people die. I can’t believe you hid this from me all these years!”

 Charlie summoned Razzle and Dazzle and the two goats lifted her up and carried her down to the streets.

 “Get back here at once!” Lucifer bellowed.

 Ignoring her father, Charlie landed down on the cracked asphalt, nearly stepping on a severed horned demon head. Razzle and Dazzle hovered nearby.

She saw three angels corner a frightened cat demon with a spotted brown face who held her paws up. Spears pointed toward her head and heart, the feline gave one last sorrowful meow.

 “Hey!” Charlie bellowed in her demonic voice. She was seeing red. Her black shoes clacked against the pavement. “Stay away from my people!”

 The three angels slowly turned toward her at the same time, their eyes glowing red and teeth spread out when spotting her. The cat demon scurried up the wall with her claws and leaped from roof to roof out of sight.

 Flames receding from her body, horns shrinking back, Charlie backed up in fear and gulped as the angels advanced, their weapons at the ready. Razzle and Dazzle shuddered and held on tightly to Charlie’s hands. Just as the angels threw the spears and Charlie closed her eyes…

 She heard a sickening thud.

 The spears had struck a pair of black fiery wings. The spears vanished in flames before flaming swords materialized out of thin air. The angels were struck by the swords, causing them to back up.

 Lucifer’s eyes were red, his temporary black wings made from his enchanted snakes merged together.

 “Leave!”

 His demonic voice could stop the heartbeats of an entire group.

 Charlie slowly stood up once the angels had retreated and stared into Lucifer’s glowing red eyes. He slowly turned his head toward her. Though he was furious with her, she could see a small tear roll down his cheek before being evaporated by the heat.

 “If you ever do something foolish like that again, I’ll make sure you never leave our mansion. You will be grounded until this place freezes over. Do you understand?!”  

 Charlie nodded with a fearful whimper at his low voice and glowing red eyes.

 “You will accept your role, whether you like it or not!”

 Charlie glanced over toward a group of demons and gasped. As her father raised his hand toward her, something inside Charlie stirred. A peculiar feeling in her temple, just between her eyes began to tingle with warmth. It was almost as if time stood still.

 When Charlie stared hard at the three homeless demons from a distance, she could almost see their faces briefly morph into their formerly human ones from their past lives: a white skinned bearded man with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, a mother with a cut-up face in torn prostitute clothing, a sobbing blonde boy in the mother’s lap just learning how to use a gun…

 Before Charlie could say anything, a glowing magenta pentagram surrounded her and she was transported back to her room with Razzle and Dazzle.

  Charlie eventually met Vaggie, a moth demon who would soon become her best friend, and girlfriend. Vaggie was a hell of a better friend than the bully snob Helsa back in Hell high school. Her parents weren’t too pleased that Charlie and the high class Seviathan broke up, claiming that Charlie would have been much better off dating a fellow Hell Born. Charlie became more distant from her family as she encouraged herself to pursue things on her own.

 As selfish as the green Seviathan was, Charlie still missed his elegance and charming personality. Dancing with him at prom in a pink dress was a special moment for her. If only his sister weren’t such a bitch…

 “Hi, I’m Charlie!” the princess said.

 “I’m Vaggie,” the young girl said shyly. Vaggie had long white hair and a pink ‘X’ over her left eye. Her overall appearance was goth-like. Her sclera was light pink and she wore a white mini-dress. Her left stocking had pink stripes while her right stocking was navy blue. There was even a pink bow in her hair. The two friends grew closer as time went on. Vaggie even gathered the courage to share how she died one Halloween night.

 “It was back in 2014,” she said. “I was a regular Latino human who was fascinated by bugs and the supernatural. Punching asshole guys and slicing their nuts off was super fun. You know, black guys and white guys insulting my culture and all, I just wasn’t having it.”

 She continued. “People thought I was weird, but I didn’t give a fuck. My black father, Valentino…he was a pimp, very nasty man. He made me become a prostitute. It wasn’t very enjoyable, but I did manage to earn some money for my family. I was in love with this cute girl in my class, but this guy who claimed he was my boyfriend didn’t like that. He kept calling me a butch bitch and wouldn’t leave me alone. One night, on my way home from a punk rock concert, he appeared behind me and slammed me against the wall. He tore off my bra, pulled down my pants and…”

 Her breath caught in her throat. Tears fell from her eyes. “His friends were standing there too…they just laughed at my naked form. He went into me over and over, and over again!”

 She buried her face in her hands, as Charlie held her tightly.

 “I’m so sorry, Vaggie,” she said quietly.

 “Not only that,” she stuttered between sobs, “he stabbed me here…”

 She pointed to her left eye…

 “…and here…”

 She mentioned to her breasts…

 “…and finally set the rest of me on fire.”

 Charlie was crying too, sharing her friend’s pain. Death by a gang rape…a horrible fate. “I can’t imagine what’s that’s like. To go through that…and being a human…”

 “Well, I’m not a human anymore,” she said, wiping away her tears. “I’m a demon stuck in this hellhole. There’s a good reason I don’t trust men…I never trusted them when I was alive. Don’t even get me started on my abusive father. I would’ve be surprised if he was still here in Hell, parading around with his big ass ego.”

 Charlie sat and listened, providing a source of comfort for her friend.

 “That’s Entertainment: Present Day”

 Both of Charlie’s parents envisioned their daughter as an asset to the family business. They hoped that by encouraging demons to remain in fear and respect of their family, that no conflicts would arise.

 But then, Charlie proposed something radical, unexpected…and even dangerous. She wanted to create the Happy Hotel as a place for sinners to redeem themselves. Lucifer thought it was a joke at first. Charlie had laughed and explained her plan.

 “Isn’t it brilliant?” she asked, a smile on her face. She stood in the living room of their elegant home. “This could be the solution we need that could benefit everyone.”

 Charlie pointed at her diagram behind her, which showed colored rainbows and dancing demons drawn in crayons. Her father was not amused and her mother was skeptical.

 “How would running a hotel cause the demons to change so fast?” he asked. “Your plan is impractical and downright ridiculous.”

 “What makes you think this idea will work?” asked Lilith.

 “Glad you asked,” said Charlie. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth wide and stood on a table.

  Lucifer held up a hand.

 “No singing necessary.”

 Charlie let out a sigh and hoped down. “If the demons could become good people who give up their bad habits, just think how much better this world would be. Heaven wouldn’t need to exterminate the population year after year. Crime rates would drop, gambling and drugs would become afterthoughts. Who knows? Maybe those reformed enough could leave to live better afterlives!”

 “Leave?!” asked Lucifer. “You do realize that demons were sent here for a reason. If they were to change their ways, then our economy and society would crumble. Even worse, there would be revolts, riots.”

  Charlie stared with curiosity. “What’s bad about that?”

 “It’d put our family and legacy at risk!” Lucifer replied. “Our livelihood depends on preserving tradition and establishing a chaotic order, if you will.”

 “Our legacy could change for the better,” Charlie countered. “No more killings and despair for everyone. You may not think that anyone cares about purges, but I know that there are families out there who have lost beloved members due to those purges.”

 “Me and the other demons do care about the purges,” Lucifer stated. “Which is why it would only get worse if demons decided to change.”

 Lilith put a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Charlotte, I understand that you’re trying hard to do what’s best for Hell. I, too, wish things could have been different. Unfortunately, things are the way they are. It can’t be helped. Why make matters worse to begin with?”

 Tears started to fall from Charlie’s’ golden eyes. “Why aren’t you guys listening to me?”

 She pulled away. “If all of us want better lives here free from killings…”

 She pointed to her drawing of the Happy Hotel on a piece of paper,

“…then this is the only way to make it happen.”

 Lucifer crossed his arms, his eyes glowing red. “You will, under no circumstances, open that hotel.”

  Charlie’s fangs grew slightly longer. “I have to try!”

 Lilith sighed softly, looking back and forth as her family members argued.

 Charlie took several deep breaths and placed her hand over her heart. “I know there’s good in every demon here. They just need to be reminded of their potentials, their purposes.”

 “The purpose of demons,” said Lucifer with a glare, “is to suffer in damnation forever. None of them can be redeemed, that’s just who they are. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

 Charlie groaned out loud in frustration. “I refuse to believe that!”

 Lucifer sighed. “I know I can’t change your beliefs, but I’m still in charge. As king, I forbid you to…”

 “La la la! Can’t hear you!” Charlie called, covering her ears.

 “Now you’re just being childish,” said Lilith. “I’d send you to your room, but you’re 170 years old.”

 “I feel like I’m 17 instead.”

 “Age doesn’t matter,” said Lucifer. “Our legacy does, however. I will not allow you to drag it through the mud.”

 “Then I’ll just create a new one!” said Charlie. Anger flooded her head and spread through her arms. Sparks of electricity danced around her clawed fingers. Charlie backed up from the living room and entered a long hallway. Her father followed.

 Lilith stepped back and cussed under her breath. She knew a fight was coming on, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

 Charlie summoned balls of fire from her palms. Lucifer summoned his staff into his hand, a long black one with a red apple on top. The fireballs shot from Charlie’s hands but her father made them vanish on the spot with a wave of his hand. Charlie jumped into the air, ready to attack. Using his staff, Lucifer created a hole that dropped Charlie to a farther spot down the hall.

 “I hate portals,” Charlie muttered.

 Closing her eyes, Charlie conjured a flaming unicorn and hopped onto its back.

 “For cupcakes and rainbows!” she shouted as she galloped forward toward her father down the hall.

 “Enough of this!” he yelled. He shot a band of red energy at the unicorn, destroying it. Charlie tumbled to the ground, and then righted herself. Her entire body was then engulfed in flames, her red straight horns growing from her head. A volley of flames spread from her in every direction, breaking several windows and nearby vases. One painting depicting humans being thrown into a lake of lava crumbled to ash.

 Lilith came into the room and gasped. “Charlotte!” she scolded. “That painting cost 240 souls to purchase!”

 Ignoring her mother, Charlie danced around, avoiding her father’s attacks. “I’m sticking with my idea!”

 Lucifer held out his hand, and a glowing red pentagram appeared on the floor under Charlie’s feet. Charlie jumped into the air, only for her to be surrounded by a web of neon red vines. Charlie’s fire from her body could not burn away the sharp vines restraining her.

 “Father…let go!” she yelled.

 Lucifer walled over to her, slowly. “Be grateful that you are my daughter,” he said. “If you were anyone else who had questioned me…”

 “Lucifer,” warned Lilith from behind.

 “Listen well, Charlotte, because I won’t say this again. If you know what’s good for you, you will give up on your idea and start behaving like an adult.”

 “But I am an adult!” Charlie protested, no longer struggling. “And I’ve decided as princess to continue on with opening the hotel. It will be what’s best for us.”

 The vines around her tightened.

 Flames sparked in Lucifer’s eyes. “If you think causing a war is what’s best for us, then you are gravely mistaken. I had high hopes for you all these years. But now…you’re nothing but a failure.”

 Charlie stared in newfound shock, eyes wide. Lilith, too, instantly grew concerned. She felt a stabbing pain inside her that had nothing to do with the vines.

 Failure.

Failure.

Failure.

 That was all she ever seemed to be in her father’s eyes.

 She thought back to her rivals, Helsa and Katie Killjoy. Helsa was a woman with gray skin and octopus tentacles for hair. She had been Charlie’s rival since they were little.

 “You and your family are an utter disgrace,” she had said, flaunting her pink fur jacket, dark skirt and high heeled boots. “You’re a naïve fool with such airheaded ideas. How I’d love to see you humiliated and my family reach the top.”

  And then there was Katie Killjoy, who was potentially even worse. Homophobic and self-centered, she cared only about her appearance and good ratings on the news.

 “You call yourself a princess,” she had scoffed, blowing a cigarette, “but you’re scum, just like everyone else.”

 Charlie willed for her memories to go away. Since the beginning, Charlie had felt like an outsider.

 Lilith stepped forward and destroyed the vines with a wave of her hand. Everyone took shaking breaths and became silent for a moment. Charlie’s horns retracted back into her head, and the flames dwindled and disappeared around her body. Charlie was free and she promptly stomped away, head lowered.

 Lucifer spoke in a booming voice that echoed throughout the room. “We will come back to this!”

 “Charlotte, do not go outside yet!” Lilith warned before Charlie was out of sight.

 Charlie stared out the window into the crimson sky of Hell. Lilith was right to be concerned about the outside world. To Charlie’s horror, the purge was underway. Robotic angels with sinister smiles and red Xs for eyes swooped down and stabbed any demon that they could find. They were immune to demonic magic, as shown when one green eel-like demon tried in vain to push back an angel with his magic. One stab to the eel’s chest brought the monster to the ground, lifeless.

 Charlie let out a yelp as something went flying toward her. A bat demon was thrown hard against the window pane and its body slid down the glass pane before falling. Dark blood was left behind, streams flowing down like thick syrup trails. An Exterminator slowly turned its head toward Charlie. She gasped in fright, moving out of sight with her back against the wall.

 She wished that her girlfriend Vaggie were with her to comfort her. She had met the emo-like, misandrist woman back when they were very young. They were childhood friends whose friendship developed into something deeper. Complementary opposites, Vaggie’s no-nonsense personality kept Charlie grounded in reality…sometimes.  

 Charlie often wondered…could there be a better place for demons? Heaven was inaccessible and only for the elite and those who met strict qualifications. Hell was overpopulated with people…some were evil for sure…but others just made mistakes.

 Those lucky enough to forego Heaven and Hell went to a limbo place where there was dark nothingness…at least that what her father claimed after eavesdropping on humans during his fall to Hell.

 Could that really be it? If the angels were to kill everyone, would the victims just cease to exist? Would those formerly lost humans serve no purpose other than suffering in their afterlives?

 She tried to imagine what mortals might be feeling. She didn’t know very much, but she figured that they had the same desires as herself.

 “Should I really keep going? Should I try to provide more opportunities for the people here? What if I really am a failure?”

 It seemed like forever, but eventually, a deathly silence announced that the purge had ended. The numbers below a clock tower read 365 days until the next purge. Charlie slowly walked outside onto a balcony. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the carnage down below.

 Among the broken weapons and corpses, “Fuck you, Heaven!” was written in red on a nearby wall. “Cleanse!” was scribbled on posters of an Exterminator. Up in the sky, a lone planet with a red pentagram loomed overhead. More signs displayed advertisements, porn, drugs, and drinks. In a shadier part of town, large red signs read “Punishment,” and “Your days are numbered.” A demon with the head of a bull picked up a fallen head from the ground and loaded it into his shopping cart of other heads. Casino signs flashed in the darkness and faint music pounded from strip clubs.

Tears fell freely from Charlie’s yellow eyes. Her long blond hair fluttered in the breeze. She wore a black bow tie, black suspenders, and a white shirt under her pink tuxedo.

 Charlie lifted her finger into the air and colorful fireworks boomed in the sky. The fireworks signaled that it was safe. Another sign read “demon” in white letters. The denizens slowly opened their windows and peered out. More demons came out from their hiding places. A couple of demons poked their heads out of the windows, one of them a red demon with two eyes and horns, smoking.

 Feeling free to express herself, the demon princess sang her lament.

 “At the end of the rainbow, there’s happiness

And to find it, how often I’ve tried

But my life is a race

Just a wild goose chase

And my dreams have all been denied”

 “A ray of hope in this world of black

I wish the world to be free of sin

But no matter hard I try

I can’t get by

I never seem to win”

  “Why have I always been a failure?

What can the reason be?

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

 “I’m always chasing rainbows

Watching clouds drifting by

My schemes are just like my dreams

Ending in the sky”

 “Some fellows look and find the sunshine

I always look and find the rain

Some fellows make a winning sometimes

I never even make the game

Believe me”

 “Will this world be a better place?

Or will loss never go away?

The choices I face, me, a disgrace

Loss of hope here to stay”

  “I’m always chasing rainbows

Watching clouds drifting by

My schemes are just like my dreams

Ending in the sky”

  “I’m always chasing rainbows

Waiting to find a little bluebird

In vain.”

 Lilith opened up red curtains and watched the fireworks with a passive scowl on her face. She appeared to have long white hair, pink sclera eyes with white pupils and makeup on her face. Behind her was Lucifer sitting on a chair in shadow, eyes glowing red. There was also a black spider Overlord sipping wine, and another shadow overlord shaped like a dinosaur. A large building read “Porn Studios” on it in lit up letters. The roof was decorated with strings of lights and a life-like figure of a red demon women in promiscuous clothing.

 Inside the studio sat three influential Overlords, commonly known as the three Vs. Vox, the television demon had a flat screen TV for a head and wore a black suit decorated with thin vertical blue lines. The center of the suit was decorated with red and black stripes. Vox wore a black top hat on his head with a teal Wi-Fi symbol on it. His eyes were red and his shark-like teeth were light blue.

 Next to Vox was a small woman named Velvet, the doll demon of social media. She had dark gray skin and had long ponytails of magenta and dark magenta hair on her head. Her eyes were pink with white irises and black pupils. She wore a party dress of white, black and pink, the bottom of the dress decorated with pink hearts and lace.

 Finally there was the moth pimp Valentino, the porn studio owner. He had lavender-gray skin, black antennas, and pink eyes and teeth. He wore a red coat and had white fluff decorated with little hearts on it. Pink heart shaped sunglasses outlined in yellow were over his eyes.

 Velvet happily took a picture of herself and Vox, much to the TV demon’s annoyance. Velvet eagerly tapped on her phone with a big smile on her face.

 Valentino looked at his cell phone in annoyance.

 Valentino: Did you get my money, Angie Baby?

Angelo Dust: I’m wittha John now. I don’t get why this needed to happen so soon after the extermination, tho. Boss.

Valentino: Just do it. No sass. K sugar.

Angel Dust: Yes, Val.

 A bunch of imps dressed in top hats and round ladies’ hats feasted on a bloody body after a demon with a messy mane pulled out an angelic spear to sell on the black market. Beside her was an emotionless scientist Annie with long white hair and round red glasses dressed in a white lab coat. She was recording deaths and the number of weapons on a clipboard for Xirxine Labs.

 Rosie was a bird-like Overlord, elegantly dressed in a magenta dress under her long black neck. She had pitch black eyes, light skin and short lavender hair like a demonic Mary Poppins. She wore a matching wide-brimmed ladies’ hat with skulls and black roses on it. Born in Hell and appearing like a 20th century woman, she was a cruel CEO who used her workers’ wages for her lavish lifestyle. With a grin, she crossed out “Franklin” on a pink sign that read “Franklin and Rosie’s Emporium.”

 A brown furry demon plucked another demon’s head off the ground and put in a grocery cart full of other demon heads. More demons wondered around, including a smoking demon, a teen demon and a demon with a striped suit appearing out of nowhere. The Jackpot Hotel and Devil’s Diner were nearby.

 As Charlie cried, the clock tower rang out and the counter read “365 days til next cleanse.” A shadow painting of a figure was on the bottom of the tower, along with concert posters. “Lilith in concert” was displayed on a few posters.

  “The Spider In Kinky Boots”

 A blue demon with many arms fell to the ground with a yell. The demon had red eyes and stood up. It looked at itself in amazement. “I’m alive! I’m alive!” A car ran over the demon, as blood splattered everywhere. The car pulled to a stop and a demon got out.

 He was a tall white spider demon, his face and body white and furry. Light pink spots decorated his face and dark pink spots were under his pink eyes. The spots were reminiscent of extra spider eyes. A pink heart was on the back of his head. He wore a pink and white striped suit and high bright pink heeled boots. Pink gloves covered four of his hands. The demon also wore a black bow tie under his neck and a little black choker on his thin neck.

 He was Angel Dust, formerly Anthony when he was alive. He had died of an overuse of PCP, a.k.a. angel dust, hence his name. He was Hell’s number one porn star, and a common participant in the many violent wars over territory that frequently occurred. Angel was part of an Italian mafia family that had lived in New York in the early 1900s. The bubbly Molly was his younger sister, Arackniss was his black furry brother, and the grey Henroin was his father. Aranea, his mother, was nowhere to be found. Now here he was in Hell, working under the harsh command of his pimp boss Valentino.

 Angel rested his elbow on the open car door, slicking his fur back on his head. A gold fang was visible. Being a spider demon, he had multiple arms. His left eye was black with a pink pupil and his right eye was white with a pink iris.

 “Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff,” came a gruff voice from the driver’s seat. Travis, the grey owl demon.

 “Yeah, yeah listen,” Angel said, closing the door and facing Travis, “Keep this discreet, hear me?” He briefly glanced around. “I can’t let it get out I’m offering my services to randos on the street. It was a quick cash crab, ya got that?”

 He smiled and snapped all his fingers at Travis.

 “Pfft. Whatever you say, slut!” Travis mocked with a laugh. A black and gray top hat was on his head. His left eye was black with a red heart pupil while his right eye was white with a black pupil.

 The white demon cupped his face dramatically. “Ouch, oh, such an insult!” he declared, pretending to be offended. He leaned into the open car window. Travis’ eyes shrank back and his ears flopped in fear. Angel smirked, “Let me know when you come up with something creative to call me next time, you poorly packaged sack of horse shit.”

 He poked Travis and his nose with his finger. “Tell the misses I said hi,” Angel said, blowing him a kiss before leaning back out.

 Travis rolled up the window and grumbled. “Poorly packaged…” The car flipped in the air before falling with a loud crash.

 Angel looked behind him at a store. One sign had a dripping needle that said ”blood draw” on it. A door had an upside down cross as part of the decoration. A yellow neon sign read “Beg Slut,” while a teal one read “We couldn’t think of a pun for our shop, but we sell hard drugs!” A casino flier read “Casino: just a few wins away.” A red vending machine with the word “drugs” written in white caught the spider demon’s attention. He walked over and glanced down at the options:

  Coke

Bojack

McWeedies420

Squip

Hero-in

Krunchy Krokodil

Angel Dust

 The demon pressed a button labeled “angel dust” and a white sack fell to the bottom. With a greedy smile, he took it in her hands.

 With a yoink, a gray demon snatched the bag from his hands.

 “Hey!” Angel yelled.

 “Up yours, drag show!” hollered the demon before he was crushed by a boulder.

 “Oh my god!” cried Angel, but he wasn’t worried about the crushed demon. He sadly picked up a piece of the sack.

 “My drugs! Damn it!”

 “Something Rotten”

 Angel turned around and spotted a flying metal aircraft, which was firing lasers at buildings. It looked like an industrial rocket ship made with gears and a steampunk style to it. A metal hook hung from the bottom of it. The lasers struck the buildings, which caused bright pink explosions to fill the air.

 From inside the ship, a serpent Overlord stood high above over the controls, laughing manically. Down below, his deviled egg minions stood and watched. Each of them wore black top hats pinstriped round clothing. They were called the Egg Bois.

 The room had deep purple walls, cabinets for the minions and decorations of their leader along the wall. The stairs and many of the structures on the ship depicted scales.

 The Overlord was Sir Pentious. He wore a light gray Victorian style suit with yellow vertical stripes down the front. The undershirt was yellow with a pink eye on it under a black bow tie. He had the lower body of a dark gray and yellow snake, plus a black tail with yellow stripes and pink eyes all over it. His gray top hat had a moving pink eye and a grinning mouth of fangs. He sprouted a demonic grin of sharp yellow teeth and his hood was full of pink hypnotizing eyes.

 Sir Pentious had died in 1888 in the Industrial Revolution due to machine failure and a blizzard. He worked on several inventions in London, selling them, and looking down on those of a lower status. People had called the aristocrat a “sneaky snake in the grass.” With the help of the blue anglerfish mad scientist Baxter (who had died of drowning on a boat), Sir Pentious was able to command and create his Egg Boi minions. (Baxter, the deviant Hellhound Crymini and dapper woman Mimzy were off in their own respective places.)

 Up on the platform, the serpent oriented two levers in his hands, the control button in the center displaying a pentagram design.

 “Those other cowardly sinners dare not hinder my territorial takeover! A wise decision. The power of my machines are unmatched! No other demon can compare to the likes of I!”

 One egg minion with #23 on his back added, “Gee that was pretty swell boss!”

 “Yeah!” another chimed in: #666.

 “You really showed them what for!” called a third.

 Another minion teasingly ran his fingers up the Overlord’s spine. “I like it when you shot them with your ray gun…”

 Sir Pentious punched a minion out the window and whirled around in anger. The other minions backed up. “I wish he’d shoot me with his ray gun,” a minion whispered, head lowered.

 Sir Pentious rolled his pink eyes at his minions. He turned back to the controls and grinned. Pentagram circles revealed the areas he had taken over and the other territories ahead.

 “At this rate, I will seize control of the entire west side of the Pentagram by day’s end!”

 He bragged some more. “And nothing, not a single beast in this inferno of suffering, will be able to take back this empire from my constrictive grasp!”

 As to prove his point, he grabbed a minion in his tail and tightly squeezed.

 Another minion blew a noisemaker and then popped open a blue bottle of a brown drink. The Overlord threw the minion across the room as the eggs celebrated down below. “Oh boy!” cheered one.

 “Hell will be mine!” he declared, “and everyone will know the name of Sir…”

 “Edgelord!” yelled a voice.

 “Pardon?!” Sir Pentious shot back in shock, looking around. “Who said that?!”

 He leaned in close to two of his minions, not pleased.

 “What did you just say to me, you fried chicken fetuses?!”

 The minions shook in fear.

 “Speak up!” he hissed.

 “It wasn’t us, mister boss man,” said a minion.

 Just then, an object shot through the glass at the front, creating a small hole. A small pink bomb with a black skull on the front, landed on the floor. Sir Pentious observed it for a moment…the bomb looked like a cherry…which could only mean…

 Sir Pentious flinched back, a look of terror on his face.

 The bomb exploded, covering the room in sparkles and thick red smoke.

 Sir Pentious coughed and swiped some of the smoke away.

 “You looking for a fight, old man?” a female voice challenged.

  Sir Pentious spotted his rival standing proud and casually catching another bomb in her hand: Cherri Bomb.

 The woman was towering tall in one high pink boot on her left foot, the other foot with a sock on it. She wore black pants filled with holes, along with a pink crop top with an x on the front over her left breast. Freckles dotted her face and skin. She had long strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail and a single pink eye with a white x that took up most of her white face. She spouted a grin of sharp teeth.

 Cherri had died in the 1980s in Australia, due to a bomb explosion. She was a hot-headed rebel in a more easygoing culture, always fighting for the rights of LGBTQ + individuals and the downtrodden. She loved blowing things up.

 “Why don’t you get that tinker toy bullshit off my turf before I smash it…” she declared before catching her bomb. A random barbell of metal crashed into the floor close to Cherri Bomb.

 “…more,” she finished.

 “Oh, you wanna go, missy?” Sir Pentious retorted, doing air quotes with his fingers. He flicked his hood back before opening it. “Well, I’m happy to oblige!”

 He let out another laugh as his minions closed in, holding stun guns, which crackled with yellow electricity.

 But Cherri Bomb just scoffed. With graceful leaps, she avoided the blasts and threw down another bomb. She used the cover to escape, jumping down and swinging once from the anchor at the bottom of the flying craft. Landing gracefully on the ground, she continued her assault from below.

 “Catch me if you can, snake man!” she taunted out loud.

 “Get her!” he bellowed through the red smoke, the eggs quickly running around in a frenzy.

 The minions jumped to the ground after her, the Overlord following suit. Cherri Bomb dodged a blast, grinned and picked up the minion egg. She spun around and threw the minion straight into Sir Pentious’ face. The snake threw the egg back at her, and she caught it with one hand.

 “Thanks for the gift!” Cherri called out, before cracking the egg open with an evil grin. She placed a bomb into it, then threw it back...straight into his face. Sir Pentious could only make a face of surprise before the egg blew up in pink smoke.

 “Why you little…”

 Cherri Bomb ducked as another egg sailed over her head.

 Just then, a familiar drug-addict white demon stomped on an egg minion and threw a grenade in the distance.

 “Angel!” called Cherri Bomb, happy to have her partner in crime arrive.

 “Great to see you too, sweetie!” he teased.

  Pink explosion filled the air as the fight continued.

 “Hey, thanks for the backup, Angie!” Cherri Bomb smiled as she fired a flaming red blast from a metal canon weapon toward Sir Pentious.

 Angel Dust laughed, leaning against volcanic rock as cover. He threw a grenade over his head.

 “Hahaha! Are you kiddin’? This is the best action I’ve seen in ages!”

 A pink explosion rocked the streets.

 “Where have you been anyway?” Cherri asked as she removed a fuse from another bomb. “I thought you up and died or some shit.”

 “Oh I wish,” Angel remarked as he lit another fuse and handed the bomb to his ally. “I’ve been staying at this crappy hotel on the other side of town. Some boards are lettin’ me stay rent-free if I play nice.”

 Cherri threw her bomb, then ducked beside Angel behind the rock. They both covered their ears. A column of green smoke rose into the air with a fiery whoosh.

 The duo leaped over the rock and charged at the army of egg minions. Using four arms, Angel Dust fired rapidly from a tommy gun at the minions, making some of them explode.

 He sighed, and used one of his hands to gesture. “Y’know, no fights, no pranks, no “problematic language.” Her words, not mine.”

 Angel tripped an unsuspecting minion, sending him into the air and exploding in a yellow yok mess. Angel waved a spiked club and continued firing his gun, his shadow silhouette briefly behind him. A pot shop stood in the background, with marijuana leaves near the sign.

 “These bitches are no fun!” Angel complained in frustration. Splatters of yok landed on his head and face. “I’ve been clean for two weeks!”

 “Holy shit!” Cherri Bomb yelled after avoiding a green explosion and leaping into the air, more bombs in her hands.

 Angel scooped up yok with his pink gloved finger. “Well, sorta clean.” He smashed apart another egg minion with his club. “As clean as you can get with a shitload of Bolivian marching powder.”

 Angel’s shadowy silhouette displayed sharp fangs as Cherri posed in the background. A sign read “50% off meth” above a small super market.

 A black chain wrapped tightly around Angel’s waist and chest, sending him flying backwards. Cherri Bomb gasped as her ally was pulled away. Sir Pentious threw the chained Angel hard onto the ground a distance away. The spider landed with a thud against volcanic rock.

 “Oh, harder daddy!” Angel teased with a wide smirk.

 Sir Pentious gasped, eyes tearing up. “Son?!”

 Angel Dust stared blankly, one eye raised, a look of disbelief on his face.

 Cherri Bomb rushed into action, landing a sharp kick to Sir Pentious’ back. The villain landed on the ground, then hissed threateningly. He stood up in anger.

 “You whores have no class!” he exclaimed. “In war, the side remembered is the side with the most…style.” He sprung his bow tie in emphasis.

 Cherri Bomb broke open an egg and tossed the shells aside. Angel stood up, freeing himself from the chains.

 “Or the side that ain’t dead,” Cherri added.

 “Speaking of style, is your hat like, alive or something?” asked the spider demon wiggling his fingers.

 Sir Pentious hissed. “Oh, well, that’s none of your goddamn business, now is it?”

 Angel continued, “Would that make your hat the top and you the bottom?”

 He and Cherri burst into laughter. Even a pink “loser” sign pointed at the oblivious villain. “Ooooh,” said a minion near him. “One hellish burn.” The snake slapped the egg with his hand.

 “I’m going to blow you to bits!” Sir Pentious yelled, pointing at them.

 “Hmm! Kinky!” Angel teased with a smirk.

 An advertisement displaying a plate of, sausage, eggs and a tomato slice stood halfway buried in the ground. A glowing pink sign pointing down read “pussy.” Another yellow sign read, “Sex here.”

 “Not like that! Pervert!” yelled the villain, pointing a finger. Cherri Bomb and Angel Dust held in laughter.

 Angel suddenly pushed Cherri Bomb out of the way, as an egg minion shot tendrils of claws from behind them. The claws had eyes in the center and grabbed onto Angel’s four wrists. He struggled to free himself, the cords stretching.

 Sir Pentious grinned. “Not so cocky now, are we?”

 “Y’know, you really need to watch what’s coming out of your mouth,” Angel remarked.  “I’ve been making these sex jokes this whole time!”

 A drill poked out from the ground, Angel barely avoiding it. A minion held a drill in his small hands at Angel. Two extra arms popped out from Angel’s body, holding his rifle.

 “And it’s obvious you ain’t catching on.”

 He cocked his gun. “I mean, it’s just…sad!”

 The spider jumped into the air, freeing himself and firing the gun. The laser hit Sir Pentious and his gray top hat fell off. Angel flipped him the bird.

 Cherri Bomb popped up next to Angel, walking sideways. “Think you’re gonna get into a lot of trouble for this?”

 “Eh, what’s one little brawl gonna cause?” Angel shrugged his shoulders and retracted his extra arms. Sir Pentious lay fuming on the ground.

 More egg minions scrambled over to the edge of a high cliff, overlooking the scene. Egg shells and yok puddles littered the cracked street.

 Cherri Bomb playfully elbowed Angel. “Glad ya haven’t changed. You know you’re my favorite guy to party with!”

 “You know it, sugar tits,” Angel replied with a playful grin.

 “You ready to finish this?” Cherri asked. She rolled a bomb from one of her shoulders to her other shoulder, then into her hand.

 Angel cocked his gun again. “Born ready, baby!”

 The duo charged at Sir Pentious. Everyone yelled. More egg minions fell and Sir Pentious realized he was running out fast.

 After several more minutes of battle, Sir Pentious and his remaining minions retreated back to their ship. “This isn’t over, sluts!” he declared at his enemies. “I’ll have my revenge!” The ship hatch closed. The egg minions steered the ship and it rose into the air, almost sending the Overlord flying out of the craft. He tossed out more minions in response before taking the controls and flying the craft away.

 Angel and Cherri Bomb high-fived.

 “See you around,” Cherri said.

 “Until the next brawl,” said Angel.

 Cherri Bomb waved goodbye and blasted music from an Eye Pod (a device made from an actual moving eye. “Hello, daddy. Hello mom. I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! Hello world! I’m your wild girl. I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!” she sang out loud. Angel Dust laughed and continued on his way.

 After buying some more amino and pot from the 666 Shop, Angel met with Charlie and Vaggie in a white monster limo with teeth on the front of the vehicle. A great day indeed for the promiscuous demon.

 “Morning Report”

 Transcript during the 666 News:

“BREAKING NEWS: A LARGE SCALE TURF WAR IS UNDERWAY IN PENTAGRAM CITY BETWEEN SIR PENTIOUS AND CHERRI BOMB. THE SURROUNDING AREAS ARE COVERED IN DEBRIS, SO PLEASE AVOID DOWNTOWN ON YOUR COMMUTE TODAY. TRAFFIC IS “HELLA” BACKED UP. GET IT? “HELL” BUT WITH AN “A” AT THE END? THAT’S A WORD YOUNGER PEOPLE SEEM TO ENJOY USING. I DON’T REALLY LIKE IT, THOUGH. I WROTE IT BECAUSE IT SEEMED LIKE THE NATURAL KIND OF PUN TO MAKE FOR THIS SITUATION, BUT NOW THAT I SEE IT IN TEXT, I FEEL LIKE IT WAS A MISTAKE, A MISTAKE I CAN’T TAKE BACK…LIKE CHEATING ON MY WIFE. I’M SO SORRY, MARTHA. I SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE IT, BUT YOU DID GAIN A LOT OF WEIGHT AFTER THE BABY AND I REALLY NEEDED SOME SPACE. YOU KNOW, WHAT? NO, THAT WAS A GOOD CALL. I BANGED THE CLEANING LADY, AND THAT WAS A PRETTY NICE TIME, EVEN THOUGH SHE LAUGHED AT ME WHEN I TOLD HER I COULDN’T GET OFF UNLESS SHE LICKED MY FOOT FIRST. I DON’T SEE HOW THAT’S A WEIRD REQUEST. MAYBE IF I’D JUST GET A HOOKER, SHE WOULD’VE BEEN MORE AGREEABLE. THE POINT IS, MY WIFE IS A FUCKING BITCH. ONE TIME, WE WENT TO THE ZOO AND I GOT REALLY MAD BECAUSE I THOUGHT THE ORANGUTAN WAS MAKING FUN OF ME. HE KEPT DOING THAT STUPID DUCK LIP FACE? THEIR LIPS ALL PUCKERED? THEN IT STARTED SCREAMING, AND THAT REALLY PISSED ME OFF. MY WIFE TOLD ME IT WAS JUST A MONKEY, AND TO “CALM DOWN.”

 A neon logo appeared on the screen, displaying “666 News” in a circle with a neon eye underneath. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

 A skeletal demon woman with short blonde hair and a large toothy grin sat wearing a dark pink fancy dress with a pearl necklace. Sitting at the other chair, dressed in a blue-gray business suit was a demon with a gray gas mask for a face along with short light blonde hair. They were live on the air.

 “Good afternoon!” said the woman. “I’m Katie Killjoy.”

 “And I’m Tom Trench!” said the masked man. “Chaos at Pentagram City today as a turf war is raging on the west side between notable king Sir Pentious and self-proclaimed spunky powerhouse Cherri Bomb!”

 Two pictures surrounded by flame borders showed Sir Pentious wearing a yellow “music band” shirt, and a backwards baseball cap, doing a peace sign and wearing a pair of sunglasses with a dopey expression on his face. The other picture showed Cherri Bomb flipping the bird with a grin and standing under glittering spotlights.

 “That’s right Tom!” Katie added. “After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!”

 The clips showed Sir Pentious fighting Cherri Bomb with the egg minions.

 “Those two seem to really be going at it, huh? Looks like they’re fighting tooth and nail for that hot spot!” Katie popped a tooth and a nail into her mouth.

 “And I’d sure like to nail her hot spot!” Tom Trench remarked.

 Katie chuckled forcefully. “You’re a limp dick jackass, Tom. Or should I say…”

 Adding insult and injury, she poured hot coffee over his crotch…

 “No dick!”

 “Augh! Not again!” he groaned.

 Another picture surrounded by a border of flames displayed Charlie with the letters “Princess of Hell” next to it.

 Katie continued. “Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of Hell’s own head honcho, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project!”

 Tom Trench winced in pain on the desk.

 “All that and more after the break!”

 Katie broke her white mug in her hand, and turned to Tom Trench. “Suck it up you little bitch…”

 The TV went off air, displaying Katie’s mouth and eyes, colored bars and “off air” with a pentagram in the “O”.

  Inside the break room, Vaggie adjusted Charlie’s black bowtie. Nearby, a red tinted sign said that smoking was, indeed, allowed. Another sign read “on air,” in large letters.

 Vaggie had died at age 22 in 2014. She was El Salvadorian and had died from a gang rape. Ever since then, she mistrusted nearly every man he saw, carrying a harpoon wherever she went. Vaggie could say she was lucky to have found Charlie.

 “Okay, you remember what to say?” Vaggie asked.

 Charlie took a deep breath, enthusiasm in her voice. “Yes! Let’s do this!”

 Vaggie put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She signaled with two fingers for her to pay attention. “Just, look at me and I’ll mouth it to you.”

 Charlie sighed. “Come on, Vaggie! I know what to say!”

 Charlie walked over to the pitcher of red punch, where her bodyguards were eating donuts. “I just feel like we need to…I don’t know, make things sound more exciting…”

 She tossed a donut aside before gasping.

 “Oh! What if I…”

 “Sing a song about it?” Vaggie finished.

 “You knew I was gonna say that.” She playfully tapped her friend on the nose.

 Vaggie chuckled before adjusting Charlie’s bowtie again and shook her shoulders. “Because I know you. But please don’t sing. This is serious.” She pounded his fist onto his hand.

 Charlie snapped her fingers and briefly winked. “Well, you know, I find I’m better at expressing my goals through song!” She stood on the table and arched her arms dramatically.

 “But life isn’t a musical, hun,” Vaggie reminded her.

 “Fine,” Charlie said with a slump. Then she brightened again.

 “But I do have these other ideas of what to say.”

 She hopped off the table and pulled out a piece of paper, hopping excitedly.

“The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

 Vaggie took the paper and scanned it in disbelief. “Uh, it’s all highlighted. Is this a drawing?”

 “Yes!” Charlie answered. She pointed to her picture. It showed a list highlighted in yellow that read: “4, unicorn kisses,” “5, dolphin high-fives?” and “6, sing show tunes = happy ending!” She had drawn stick figures of demons standing on clouds under a rainbow with a sun and red hearts with faces on them.

  “That’s the happy ending, see? Everyone’s smiling and happy in Heaven!”

 “I don’t think it’s that simple,” Vaggie stated. She then begged her: “Just please follow the talking points we went over.”

 She pulled Charlie close and stared her directly in the eyes. “And do. Not. Sing.”

 Charlie sighed exasperatedly. “Fine.” Then she trotted over and spoke in an accent. “I’ll just have to resort to my impeccable improv skills.” She gave a salute, several moves of her head, and walked out.

 Vaggie suspected that this would not end well.

 “Biggest Blame Fool”

 Charlie walked over to Katie Killjoy, who posed in her red dress, smoking a cigarette.

 “Hi! I’m Charlie.”

 She waved and held out her hand.

 “Katie Killjoy,” the woman deadpanned before blowing out smoke and snapping her cigarette. She wore heavy lipstick and white earrings. “I’d say it’s a ‘pleasure’ to meet you, but that would be a lie. You can put that away,” she regarded Charlie’s hand. “I don’t touch the gays. I have standards.”

 “Yeah?” Charlie asked nervously, looking at a big flashing sign that read “Hell’s #1 News!” “How’s uh…how’s that working for ya?”

 “Look, my time is money, so I’ll keep this short,” Katie cut in. She invasively tapped Charlie’s chest several times and poked her nose with her finger. “You’re not here because we wanted you here. You’re here because Jeffery could make it for his cannibal cooking segment.”

 Katie mentioned to a billboard that showed a blonde man wearing glasses holding up a platter with meat, poop, and a skull on it. “It’s Dahn Good: Cooking Show! Guaranteed Cannibalious!” read the sign. The man had been a serial killer who had also molested boys. “Who approved this show?” was on a sticky note nearby.

 Tom Trench shook his head in his seat. “Sex! Murder! Weather!” were displayed on a column of three smaller signs.

 Katie fluffed up her hair and continued: “You might be some royal bigshot, but that doesn’t mean shit to me. I’m too rich and too influential to give a flying fuck about what some tux-wearing demon “princess” wants to advertise.”

 “But I…” Charlie began.

 “So don’t get cute with me, honey,” she warned, getting into Charlie’s face, curling her fingers, “Or I will fucking bury you!”

 “And we’re live!” said a voice.

 Katie rushed back into her seat with a bony crack of her neck.

 “Welcome back!”

 Charlie sat in a chair next to her.

 “So, Charlotte…”

 “It’s Charlie,” she squeaked.

 “Whatever,” Katie dismissed. She took a frustrated breath and clicked her red pen in her hand. “Tell us about this new passion project you’ve been insistently pestering our news station about!”

 “Well…” Charlie cleared her throat. She looked nervously at the demonic crew in front of her. A demon with a TV head, had “words” flashed across the screen in angry red letters. There was a demon with a black hat for a face, an Egyptian-like female with a white poodle, a woman with teal skin, a demon with glasses and green snake hair, a demon with two thin heads, several red horned demons and a few Overlords. Another woman wore a hat with hanging beads and colorful Day of the Dead makeup on her face. Vaggie encouraged her to go on.

 Charlie took a deep breath, her voice soft spoken.

 “As most of you know, I was born here in Hell, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me.”

 Katie clicked her pen impatiently. She spotted a green caterpillar and stabbed it with her pen with a predatory grin. Ink splattered on Charlie’s face and around the area.

 Charlie continued, wiping off the dark pink ink from her face: “Hell is my home and…you are my people. We…”

 Vaggie gave her a thumbs up and a smile.

 “…we just went through another extermination. We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year.” Her voice rose. “No one is even given a chance!”

 Charlie banged her fist on the desk, waking Katie from a bored drooling daze. A buff demon with horns and four eyes with a skull bull face wore a shirt with the word “crew” on it. An imp with a heart on his forehead stood nearby.

Charlie made her way forward. “I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence! So, I’ve been thinking. Isn’t there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through…redemption?”

 Charlie pulled the buff demon into a side hug. “Well, I think yes. So that’s what this project aims to achieve!” She ran back to the desk.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!”

 The audience stared in stunned silence as Charlie spread out her arms. Not even the flesh-eating crickets were chirping through the awkward quiet.

 A bloodstained logo “Radio Hack” was displayed above a window which provided a stack of a dozen TVs inside. One demon watching had deer antlers and a flaming blue face, one of the many cruel Overlords. Crymini, the 90’s rocker hellhound, stood with a little demon wearing a jester hat upside down. Two hellhound twins stood nearby, one with dyed red hair, the other purple. A neon sign nearby read “Bar” “Klub Kanji,” and “used TVs.”

 In a bar, dark demons wearing cowboy hats were playing pool, not even paying attention. The lead gun faced demon wore a cloth over his grinning face and had a large barrel gun for a face. His friend looked like a demonic bug, and another looked like a mustached villain. Meanwhile in a bar, purple and blue dragon-like demons sat and drank while casually watching the TVs overhead.

 Charlie stuttered, “Ya know…’Cause hotels are for people passing through…temporarily…”

 A tattooed dark blue reptile demon stood up and let out a loud laugh as Charlie babbled on.

 “Is this girl for real? She thinks, you hear what she thinks? She’s…ha, ha ha! Oh she’s nuts.” The demon walked away with a small lavender creature and a tall maroon being wearing punk rock clothing and crazy neon hair.

 Charlie added, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward redemption!” She weakly added, “Yay.”

 One dragon demon leaped away as a tall shadowy figure stood in the background. The sound of tap shoes approached.

 The figure stood right next to ratted fliers which read “Beware him! Do not fuck with him!” “The Radio Demon” and “Radio Sounds!” was scrawled in red on demons screaming and fleeing from a monster.

 The man smiled and tilted his head a notch as he watched the TV with curiosity and amusement. His shadow next to him briefly morphed into a shadowy face with fluffy ears and antlers. He spotted the fliers out of the corner of his red eyes, holding in a laugh.

 “Who, me? ‘Obviously’ not! I’d never put on a show and make other demons flee to their graves.”

 Just the thought of it got him excited.

 He had heard of the demon princess before, but he wasn’t expecting her to appear on TV. He certainly never heard of an idea so crazy before. Making sinners good people was even less likely than making pigs fly (which was one magic trick he could easily do).

 When Charlie started to sing, the red eyed demon couldn’t help but tap his cloven feet and silently hum along.

 “Haven’t been this entertained since I broadcasted my massacre in the Ring of Wrath. This cute Charlie character is intriguing…”

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

 He knew where he would go next.

 Back at the news station, a cameraman with blue hair and a white face looked up and scoffed, “She’s a stupid bitch.”

 Vaggie punched him hard in the face in response, causing him to fall off the chair to the ground.

 Charlie stared around her, concerned. “Look, every single one of you has something good deep down inside. I know you do.”

 A light bulb went off in her head and she smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you…”

 Vaggie face palmed, knowing what was coming next. “Oh no…”

 Charlie snapped her fingers and her bodyguard demons appeared. One sat and began to play a grand piano.

 Summoning the Disney princess within her, Charlie belted out her song:

  “I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a wonderful, fantastic new hotel

Yes, it’s one of a kind

Right here in Hell

Catering to a specific clientele”

 Razzle and Dazzle howled along…

The tempo rapidly picked up…

 “Inside of every demon is a rainbow

Inside every sinner is a shiny smile

Inside of every creepy hatchet-wielding maniac

Is a jolly, happy cupcake-loving child”

 “We can turn around

They’ll be heaven-bound!

With just a little time

Down at the Happy Hotel!”

 “So all you junkies, freaks and weirdos

Creepers, fuck-ups, crooks, and zeroes

And the fallen superheroes, help is here!

All of you cretins, sluts and losers

Sexual deviants and boozers

And prescription drug abusers

Need not fear

Forever again

We’ll cure your sin

We’ll make you well

You’ll feel so swell

Right here in Hell at the Happy Hotel!”

  “There’ll be no more fire

And there’ll be no more screams

Just puppy dog kisses, and cotton candy dreams

And puffy-wuffy clouds

You’re gonna be all like, wow!

Once you check in with me!”

 “So all your cartoon porn addictions

Vegan rants, psychic predictions

Ancient Roman crucifixions

End right here!”

 “All you monsters, thieves and crazies

Cannibals and crying babies

Frothing mouthers full of rabies

Fill with cheer!”

 “You’ll be complete!

It’ll be so neat!

Our service can’t be beat!

You’ll be on easy street! (Yes!)

Life will be sweet at the Happy Hotel!

Yeah!”

  Throughout the song, Charlie imagined giving a shiny cupcake to a masked killer, holding cotton candy and a brown puppy in her arms in the clouds…avoiding the attacks of every horror movie serial killer… (Music Logic)

She pictured throwing drugs into a bin of fire, giving shots to monsters, giving money to charity, disturbing porn additions with a bra…

 Snatching a “my waifu” and porn magazine of out a demon’s hands…

 Throwing away demon’s cell phones…

 Knocking over crosses…

 Avoiding a scary spider overlord with yellow bat wings and pink eyes all over his body…

 Giving demons big hugs…

 Charlie emerging in her horned demon form from a flaming pentagram, and jumping with joy in a land full of candy, rainbows, and ice cream.

 Charlie finished with a pose on the table, arms in the air and panted.

 The top hat demon smiled. “Wow! That was…shit!”

 The crowd burst into rancorous laughter and boos, including a blue demon made of fire in the boo section. Katie shrieked and banged her fist on the table. Charlie sank down to her knees in embarrassment.

 Katie laughed. “What in the Nine Circles makes you think a single denizen of Hell would give two shits about becoming a better person? You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good just…because?”

 Charlie lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause, and he’s shown incredible progress!”

 “Oh?” Katie asked, leaning in, “…and who might that be?”

 “Oh just someone named…Angel Dust.”

 “The porn star?” asked Tom Trench in disbelief. He subconsciously unzipped his zipper and Katie whirled on him; “You fucking would, Tom!” Her sharp nails left marks on the table.

 Katie turned back to Charlie. “In any case, that’s not even an accomplishment. I’m sure you can get that hooker to do anything with enough booger sugar and lube.”

 Someone wolf-whistled in the audience.

 “Oh, I beg to differ,” Charlie argued, holding up her fingers. “He’s been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for two whole weeks.”

 “Breaking news!” announced a voice as music came on. Excited, Katie pushed Charlie aside. “We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let’s go check out the live feed!”

 To Charlie’s sheer horror, Angel Dust was seen on screen, crushing egg shells and fighting with Cherri Bomb.

 “Oh shit,” Charlie breathed.

 “Oh shit indeed!” exclaimed Katie with a grin. “It looks like the one who has just joined the battle is none other than…”

 She let out a dramatic gasp…”porn actor Angel Dust! What a juicy coincidence!”

 The screen showed Angel Dust with the words “Angel Dust in ‘Well, Ok’: 18+.” Dicks and boobs were blurred.

 Satisfied, she turned back to Charlie. “You must feel really stupid right now.” Katie and Tom laughed again.

 “Ratings!” they added with jazz hands.

 “Don’t look at this!” Charlie called, waving her arms in vain from behind the screen.

 “Well, it sure looks like your little project is dead on arrival,” Katie smirked. “Tell us, how does it feel to be such a total failure?”

 Failure. Failure…Charlie could see her doubt reflected in Katie’s pink eyes and overbearing shadowy figure. Katie and everyone laughed some more, their jeers painful to Charlie’s ears.

 “Yeah?” Charlie asked. She snatched up Katie’s red pen and held it triumphantly. “Well, how does it feel that I got your pen, huh? Bitch?!”

 Katie glared dangerously. Charlie dropped the pen with a nervous smile, “Oops.”

 Tom leaped out of the way.

 Katie grew taller, her form turning to shadow. Out sprouted claws, four extra sharp appendages, and four red eyes on her face like a spider. She launched herself at Charlie. Charlie clawed at her hair and landed punches as the alarm went off in the news room. Katie crawled on the desk on multiple legs like an insect, baring her fangs before Charlie jumped and knocked her off the table. Tom Trench screamed as his body was set on fire. “Why won’t anyone help me?!”

 Charlie eventually ran out of the news room, Katie following close behind, as everyone yelled.

 “And stay out, you retarded dike!” Katie cussed as Charlie made a run for it down the sidewalk. Charlie was tempted to strangle the homophobic, news diva with her bare hands…but that would only contradict her goal…if she even had one anymore.

 Vaggie followed her and the two of didn’t say a word as they waited for their ride. Soon enough, a white limo with a monster mouth on the front of the vehicle rolled to the curb. Vaggie and Charlie climbed in…and so did an ecstatic Angel Dust. The doors closed and they drove off toward the Happy Hotel.

  “Your Fault”

 Charlie had never felt so humiliated in her life. She sat in her seat and curled into herself. Once again, her ideas were dismissed, mocked, ridiculed. No one was willing to see the good in themselves. The demons were content to wallow in suffering, violence, and cruelty until the end of their afterlives. Tears were already threatening to spill from her yellow eyes, but she held them in.

 Maybe her father was right. What if she really was a failure, like everyone said?

 As if reading her mind, Vaggie gave her a small hug. “You’re not a failure, Charlie. It’s just…no one understands your ideas. People think they’re…I don’t know…outlandish?”

 She got a sad sigh from Charlie in response. “I just wanted to make things better for my people. I know I don’t feel much like a princess, but at the same time…I feel like it’s my duty…my destiny to being some cheer to this place.”

 “Heh. No one can ever top your optimism,” Vaggie mentioned, with a playful roll of her orange eye. “Your happiness can be spotted miles away.”

 A small smile formed on Charlie’s face. “Well, at least I can pull myself up and keep going…”

 Vaggie stared, hopeful…

 “…But today isn’t one of those days.”

 Vaggie slumped slightly. “I did warn you not to sing.”

 “I couldn’t help it,” she countered. “How else was I supposed to get my message across?”

 “Not everyone likes singing and music all the time.”

 “My family does.”

 “But the other demons aren’t your family.”

  Charlie stared out the window at the buildings whizzing by. “Sometimes I feel like my family is bigger than just my parents.” She turned to look at her girlfriend. “You’re my best friend, sorta like my sister…and the only one who seems to get me. You’re part of my family already.”

 Vaggie chuckled softly. “Without me, you wouldn’t have lasted very long out in the big world.”

 “For once, I agree with you there,” Charlie replied.

 During several minutes of silence, the two demon girls locked hands just out of sight. It was their habitual way of showing comfort, and it worked on the many days when Vaggie didn’t want any hugs.

 “Don’t get too discouraged,” Vaggie said. “We’ll get back to the hotel and figure things out from there.”

 “I kinda feel like singing another lament now.”

 “Please don’t.”

 “Fine.”

 The limo drove past the 666 Shop, the Nightmare Night Club, and an Evil Donuts store, complete with slime and worms displayed on the donut structure. Pink eyes decorated the ceiling of the car. Charlie curled into herself again, and took a puff of a breath. Even the painted eyes seemed to judge her every move. She glanced over at Vaggie, whose eye was twitching in annoyance.

 Angel Dust was busy playing with the button, making the car window go up and down, up and down. He froze when he saw an angry Vaggie staring at him.

 “What?” Angel asked with a shrug.

 “What? What?!” Vaggie shouted, pulling out chunks of her long white hair. “What were you doing?!”

 Angel sighed. “Aw come on! I owed my girl buddy a solid! Isn’t that a ‘redeeming quality?’ Helping friends with stuff?”

 “Not with turf wars that result in mass murder and destruction!” Vaggie replied.

 “Eh, you win some, you lose a few hundred,” he said with a snicker. “It wasn’t that bad anyway.”

 He propped up his long legs and pushed the window button again. Vaggie tossed a dagger at the button and it fizzed out in a shower of sparks. Angel stared, shocked and terrified. Vaggie growled in warning.

 “Aw come on, I had to!” Angel protested. “My credibility was on the line!” He sighed. “I mean what kind of reputation would I have of people found out I was trying to go clean? It just throws out my entire persona.” He lifted up his furry chest for emphasis.

 “Your credibility?” Vaggie asked in anger. “What about the hotel? Your little stunt made us look like a fucking joke!”

 “No, no no, babe. Jokes are funny! I made you look…uh, sad. And pathetic! Like an orphan, with no arms. Or legs. Uh…oh with progeria!” Charlie covered her face with her hair as Angel blabbered on.

 “Great! Now I’m bummed just thinking about it! This thing have any liquor?” He bent down to the floor and tossed a bottle aside. He then flicked a wrapper away onto a seat.

 Vaggie was fuming. “Can you please just try to take this seriously?”

 “Fine, I’ll try. Just don’t get your taco in a twist, baby.”

 Vaggie stood up with hands on her hips. “Was that you trying to be sexist or racist?”

 “Whatever pisses you off more. Is there seriously no liquor in here?”

 “I’m gonna kill him,” Vaggie swore, crossing her arms and sitting back down.

 “Too, late, toots. Wait, would that make me double dead?” He laughed slowly and loudly. “And where exactly do I go? To double Hell?”

 He laughed again. “You’re stuck with me, bitch. Get used to it.”

 Vaggie swore in Spanish. “Eat shit, bastard.”

 “Listen, who cares if some jagoffs got hurt?” Angel nonchalantly asked. “Most of them are ugly freaks. Look around! Got a bunch of fuckin’ harlequin babies down there.”

 “You’re one to talk,” Vaggie muttered with a small smirk.

 Angel then yelled “Hey!” in protest. “This body is flawless! Everyone wants some of me and I’ve got the creepy fan letters to prove it!”

 He pulled out a dirty piece of paper from his chest that read: “Show me your feet! Brandon. #1 fan/critic.” There was a picture of a young Angel in the lap of a naked fat green man, licking Angel with his green tongue. He had a tattoo of Angel with a red crossed out sign.

 This time, Charlie spoke up. “That was really uncool, ya know, Angel.”

 Vaggie growled and turned to her friend. “Uncool?!” She mentioned to Angel. “After that train-wreck, there is no way anyone is gonna wanna stay at the hotel.” She turned to the spider. “All thanks to you and your selfish bullshit!”

 Angel glanced at a discarded pile of ash and used cigarettes. “Does this mean I don’t get a free room anymore?”

 Vaggie spread out her hands as if asking “Well, what do you think?”

 He let out a mock sigh and snap. “Ah, well, shucks.”

 Charlie pulled off her dark pink jacket, revealing a white shirt with a black bowtie.

 “Hey, come on, we don’t know if things are over yet. Try to relax, Vaggie. It’ll be okay!”

 Now it was Vaggie’s turn to let out a small smile of thanks. Charlie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and her friend calmed down.

 “What would I do without you?” Vaggie asked. She and Charlie slowly leaned into each other, their heads gently touching.

 “Get a room, girls!” Angel remarked, before receiving a “Shut up!” from both of them.

  Finally, the deviant crew arrived at the Happy Hotel. It was a good enough building fit for any demon who wanted to stay a few nights. Eye catching on the outside, but messy on the inside. Eye designs lined the border of a dark pink circus canopy at the front like a creepy mosaic. Branches jutted out from the roof as part of the structure. Old fashioned lanterns attached to the wall had flames flickering inside, nonstop. The double doors consisted of stained glass windows with red apples in the center. Little stained glass snake eyes peered unblinkingly at them from around the larger window in the door.

 Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie got out of the car and threw open the double doors. A random black bug scurried away from the incoming light. A yellow sign read “Concierge” behind a pink “welcome” banner. The check in table was decorated with colored flags leaning toward the floor and random balloons with small star shapes on them. A vase was decorated with yellow eyes along the sides. Another flower pot was in the shape of a human mouth…white flowers posed above. Vaggie sighed and plopped onto a red cushioned couch in the style of a monster’s mouth.

 The red rug down the hallway was decorated with the same eyeball designs, apples on the end, plus shadow skulls of horned monsters in the center.

 All around the room, were pictures of Charlie as a little girl with her father and mother on various trips. One picture showed her and Vaggie in front of a castle at Loo-Loo World, Hells’ version of Disney World.

 Angel Dust came across a red fridge leaning low against the wall. He opened the door and pulled out a purple box labeled “Popsies.” He shrugged at the dripping ruined box and took out a popsicle. He gave it a lick.

 “It’s prolly a good idea to get some actual food in this place. Y’know, to feed all the wayward souls ya got in here.” He laughed nervously, trying to cheer Charlie up. But Charlie just sat sadly on a wooden box in a darkened area of the room. Angel closed the fridge door, sucked on a popsicle and reached out one of his arms to her…then hesitated. He walked away, letting Charlie have some alone time.

 Charlie walked past the two posing elephant statues balancing balls on their trunks, and toward the front door. She opened the door and went outside. Holding out her purple cell phone, (or “Hell Phone, hah, get it?”) she pressed an icon with the word “Mom” decorated with horns and pointed tails on the m’s.

 Charlie took a deep breath as a voicemail tone came through.

 “Hey Mom. Um, I know I keep calling, and you must be busy. Really busy. But, um…the interview didn’t go well and…I don’t know if I’m going to make a difference. I don’t know what I’m doing. I could really use some advice, Mom.”

 She slid down and sat on the stone ground, tears falling from her eyes. She wiped some away with her arm. “I think Dad was…right about me. A-anyway, I’ll stop talking before this gets too long. Love you! Bye.”

 She ended the call with a tap and rubbed her eyes with her hand. Standing back up, she opened the door, closed it, and leaned against the stained glass window, eyes closed.

 What was she supposed to do now?

 “Let’s Misbehave”

 A slow ominous knocking from outside interrupted Charlie’s thoughts. She opened her eyes.

 Knock. Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock.

 It was a rhythmic knock, sounding like “shave and a haircut.” (Or was it “skunks in a barnyard”, or “imps in a cauldron?” Charlie wasn’t sure.

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

 Unless…

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

 Sure enough, the most feared demon in Hell was standing right outside her door, a few shadowy heads with glowing eyes peering through the doorway curiously.

 He stood towering over her, wearing an elegant dark red dress coat that had tatters near the bottom. Light red vermilion strips were vertical along the dress coat. His bright red undershirt was decorated with a black upside down cross. His pants were burgundy in color, his shoes black with red deer tracks on the soles. A wine colored bow tie was over his undershirt. He wore burgundy colored gloves over his four clawed fingers, with red tips and knuckles. A fluffy red and black deer tail was hidden under the lower part of dress coat.

 It was his face that unsettled Charlie right away. His skin was ashen gray, scars across his chest concealed beneath his clothes. Small black antlers stood on his head between large red and black tuffs shaped like deer ears. The tips of his tuffs were black as where the ends of his red hair by his chin. His eyes were large and glowed red, taking up much of his face. He grinned, showing a wide set of sharp yellow teeth. A monocle rested under his right eye. A red vintage microphone staff was in his left hand. A radio buzz sounded when his demonic eyes lit up.

 Charlie’s eyes turned as wide as saucers, her face full of fear.

 The man began to speak in a radio-filtered voice, holding up a finger.

 “Hell…”

 Charlie slammed the door in his face.

 She opened the door…

 “looo!”

 Slammed it again.

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

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

 “Hey, Vaggie?” Charlie called.

 “What?” Vaggie replied in annoyance on the couch, hand on her forehead.

 Charlie flashed a nervous smile. “The Radio Demon is at the door!”

 “What?!” she demanded.

 “Uh, who?” Angel asked. He sucked erotically on his popsicle.

 “What should I do?” Charlie asked, pulling at her lower eyelids.

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

 Charlie was tempted to do just that. But she also had a duty to not leave any sinners behind. She took a breath, eyes furrowed and opened the door again.

 “May I speak now?” the red demon asked.

 “You may…” Charlie replied.

 The man held out his gloved hand which briefly glowed. “Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure!”

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

    Alastor was born French Creole in New Orleans around the early 1900s. He was very close to his African American mother who taught him how to cook, sew, dance, and do voodoo rituals. In contrast, his white Christian father hardly paid any attention to him. Although, his father did teach him how to hunt and do taxidermy. Alastor had brown skin, short brown hair and brown eyes, glasses, a bright smile always on his face.

 Alastor was different from many kids his age. He dreamed of playing in a jazz band and performing on stage... and did so for a period of time. But being a man of color, he had it difficult since the beginning. He applied for music and radio jobs, always being turned down and shooed away. Racist remarks became daily background noise, almost impossible to ignore. Alastor’s father would frequently give him black eyes and harsh beatings. Several tragic events happened, including his father raping him and beating his mother. He almost sent Alastor to rot away in an asylum. He had been diagnosed with narcissism and a sexual disorder. (Why didn’t he want to fall in love with a woman?) When his mother died during the Spanish Flu of 1918, he was devastated…he was even forced to bury her himself.

 Alastor eventually became a radio host and serial killer. After his father threatened to divorce the family, Alastor killed him with a gun and ate his remains. Alastor mostly killed men who were racist or were criminals. Knives, axes, guns, he used them all. He made a vow to himself to not harm women or children when possible. After killing off several higher ups, he managed to form his own radio studio and became the most famous radio host in Louisiana. Jambalaya, deer meat, black coffee…and human flesh were always on his menu.

 Alastor basked in his fame and wealth, even meeting blonde dapper performer Mimzy, who was head over heels for him. But Alastor didn’t want to be tied down to anyone. On the air, he would talk about the murders, play jazz music and tell dad jokes. “Your Never Fully Dress Without A Smile” was his favorite song to play. Alastor enjoyed the Stock Market Crash of 1929, but soon found himself running out of food. Thus, he resorted to cannibalism for survival. No one suspected him until 1933. He got bitten by a rabies dog and ran through the woods. Alastor soon died a brutal death after being shot in the head and mauled by police dogs at the same time.

 Due to the deals he had made with otherworldly demons, Alastor gained dark eldritch powers he used to topple Overlords and take over several areas. Broadcasting his massacres was both entertaining and a tactic to let others know he was not to be messed with. He had an army of slave souls plus two pet alligator demons. Alastor hated Vox and his modern technology. No one knew if Alastor wanted Charlie to succeed or not, but he would use any means necessary to accomplish his goals. (But oh how he missed his mother dearly.)

  “Excuse my sudden visit,” he told Charlie, “but I saw your fiasco on a picture show and I just couldn’t resist. What a performance!” Clapping sounds came from the microphone. He raised his arms before walking forward. “Why I haven’t been that entertained since the Stock Market Crash of 1929!”

 He bobbed his head side to side and burst into laughter. “So many orphans!”

 “Stop right there!”

 Vaggie suddenly pointed a spear weapon at him, Alastor freezing like a deer in the headlights. She swore in Spanish under her breath. “Rabies son of a bitch! I know your game. And I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone else here, you pompous, cheesy, talk show bastard!”

 Angel peeked around the corner to see what was going on.

 Alastor merely chuckled slightly and nudged the weapon away with his fingers.

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

 He added in a low creepy tone, his mouth not moving, “I would have done so already.”

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

 Then just as quickly, the noise and magic ceased and Alastor shook his head, eyes back to full red. His eyes had briefly been black with red pupils.

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

 Charlie was sure she hadn’t heard him right.

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

 “Help!” he responded with another laugh. He held up his microphone staff.

 “Hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing…”

 He tapped it and a glowing red eye appeared in the center.

 “Well, I heard you loud and clear!” the microphone responded in a radio voice, eye shaking in fear.

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

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

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

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

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

 “I want to help you run it.”

 “Uh…why?” Charlie asked, confused.

 Alastor laughed again. “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer absolute boredom!”

  He curled up his fingers before dramatically putting his hands up to his cheeks. He then moved off to the side. “I’ve lacked inspiration for decades!”

 He placed his elbow on an annoyed Vaggie’s head, tilting his head on hers. Then he shoved the moth demon aside.

  “My work became mundane, lacking focus…aimless! I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!”

 He laughed again, tilting his head back.

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

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

 He smiled and titled his head, after making crawling motions with his fingers.

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

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

 He grinned at a glaring Vaggie and Angel who sat on the couch and shrugged.

  He continued. “The chance given was the life they lived before; the punishment is this!”

  He spread out his arms, Angel looking at the front. “There is no undoing what is done!”

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

 Alastor smirked from the side and looked at Charlie over his shoulder.

 “Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!”

 Briefly making a “come hither” motion, he pulled Charlie close to him with his arm and twirled her in a quick dance. “I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure.” His eyes glowed red in pleasure, voice lower.

  “Right…” Charlie began, slowly removing his clawed hand from her shoulder.

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

 “A Cautionary Tale”

 “Ah, so uh, what’s the deal with Smiles over there?” Angel asked Vaggie.

 “Wait, you’ve never heard of her before?” Vaggie asked, surprised. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

 Angel shrugged his shoulders.

 “The Radio Demon, one of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?” Vaggie asked.

 “Eh, I’m not too big on politics,” Angel replied.

 Vaggie let out an annoyed sigh before leaning in close to explain.

 “Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight. He began to topple Overlords who had been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power has never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell, just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him The Radio Demon. (As lazy as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing’s for sure: He’s an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we cannot risk getting involved with, unless we want to end up erased.”

 Flashes of Alastor in his full demon form, a giant red wendigo-like being with branching black antlers, glowing red eyes, a long lavender tongue, sharp teeth, and long dark claws, appeared on screen. He grinned as he hovered his claws over the demonic faces of voodoo imps and minions. His dress coat revealed a flaming hole where screaming demons struggled to escape.

 “Ya done?” Angel asked with a snicker. “He looks like a strawberry pimp!”

 Alastor conjured his staff into his hand with a smug look.

 “Well, I don’t trust him!” Vaggie exclaimed.

 To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?” Angel asked with a slight laugh.

 Vaggie ignored him and walked up in front of her friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 From a distance, Alastor opened up the palm of one hand, claws curled. Both girls glanced in his direction, worry on their faces.

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

 “Don’t worry,” Charlie replied to Vaggie with a chuckle. “I picked up one thing from my Dad…”

 She spoke in a manly voice as she walked away, “Ya don’t take shit from other demons!”

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

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

 Red Voodoo symbols appeared around a grinning Alastor, then vanished. Charlie glanced back at him with narrowed eyes.

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

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

 Flashes of eerie green light surrounded the two, electricity snaking up the walls. Shadows swirled around the room and everyone covered their faces at the force of the wind.

 “Nope!” Charlie yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped and light returned to the room. “No shaking! No deals! I…hmm…”

 Charlie decided to try another approach.

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

 A moment of pause…

 “Sound fair?” she asked.

 “Hmm…Fair enough.” Alastor shrugged before he strolled away, cane vanishing.

  “Cool beans.” Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and even did a thumbs up.

 Alastor stopped and spotted Vaggie off to the side. He smirked in a way outside observers would describe as lecherous. He tickled her under her chin with a finger.

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

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

 “So…where is your hotel staff?” Alastor asked Charlie, leaning in.

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

 He strode over towards Angel.

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

 Angel grinned. “I can suck your dick!”

 A screech was heard as Alastor stared in shock and revulsion.

 “Ha! No.” Alastor deadpanned.

 “Your loss,” Angel said with a grin. Alastor summoned her staff again.

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

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

  Alastor snapped his fingers and a fire sparked to life in a small circular fireplace. Animal skeletons decorated either side of the wall, fully repaired.

 A dark figure plopped down onto the chimney floor.

 Alastor walked over and picked up the ashen creature with his hand. A large single yellow eye was revealed. Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie peered at the creature. In a puff of smoke and a squeak, the creature revealed herself. A cute cyclops girl was wearing a dark pink skirt with a poodle on the front, and a white shirt with pink paint stains. Her hair was magenta and short with a streak of yellow. White spots were on the left side of her skirt. Her single yellow eye took up most of her face.

 “This little darling is Niffty!” Alastor introduced with a smile, before dropping her. The girl landed on her feet.

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

 “Why are you all women?” she asked. She darted over and lifted Charlie up before putting her down. Vaggie growled, aiming her spear at the newcomer.

 “Are there any men here?! I’m sorry, that’s rude.” She missed the fact that Angel was male, for obvious reasons.

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

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

 Niffty raced around, removing cobwebs, then poked at a piece of a voodoo doll. Well, it was actually a blue beetle doll that Alastor had stabbed with a clothing pin for her to play with. Niffty turned and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, a dirty rat!” She dashed over, scooped up the dark grey creature and popped it into her mouth rapidly. Rows of her sharp teeth were visible. Strained squeaks mingled with rapid chewing sounds. “I bet there’s tons of them under this place, I’ll be sure to get more! I can kill dozens of them in a day!”

 Alastor looked amused, while the others stared in disbelief.

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

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

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

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

  “Full…whoa!”

 “Transpòte ganbadeur la.”

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

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

 “…the hell?”

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

 “What the fuck is this?”

 He glared at the group and then saw Alastor, pointing an accusing claw.

 “You!”

 “Ah, Husker, my good friend!” Alastor cheerfully greeted as audience claps came from the microphone. “Glad you could make it!”

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

 Husk had been born in Nevada and grew up in a casino. He enjoyed gambling, drinking, money and magic shows. He had died at age 75 in the 1970s via drinking overdose.

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

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

 “Good to see you too!” added Alastor.

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

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

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

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

 “Hmm. No, I don’t think so!” Alastor replied.

 Husk shoved the Radio Demon off him, the latter casually dusting off his red sleeves. He puffed up his black and white fur in anger, his cat ears twitching. “You thought it would be some kind of big fuckin’ riot just to pull me outta nowhere? You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ clown?”

 “Maybe,” Alastor grinned.

 Audience laughter emitted from the microphone.

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

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

 He pointed toward the bar stand with the staff as clapping was heard again.

 “With your charming smile and welcoming energy…”

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

 “…this job was made for you!”

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

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

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

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

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

 He immediately guzzled it down and walked away.

 “Too easy,” thought Alastor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Only if you watch me,” Angel retorted, with a sway of his butt and hips.

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

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

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

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

 “So, what do you think?”

 Charlie ran over to him. “This is amazing!” she beamed, rubbing her cheeks. Alastor blinked rapidly in appreciation.

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

 Alastor laughed and pulled the two girls close to him. “This is going to be very entertaining!” His laughter was mixed with old radio sounds and static.

 Alastor conjured fire in his hand…Charlie stared in wonder at the flames and the voodoo symbols. He pushed Vaggie aside and changed his attire.

 He now wore a fancy red suit with a white undershirt and a black bow tie. A red top hat appeared on his head, complete with small spikes along the black band and two needles sticking out from the top. He twirled Charlie around in a dance, the princess looking stunned. Pointing his finger over her head, he transformed Charlie’s outfit. Her blonde hair was now short and wavy. She wore an elegant black and pink dress, black gloves, a pink hat with a small black bow and black heels. She looked like a dapper lady from the early 20th century. The bottom half of her dress was pink, while her round hat was mostly the same color.

 Charlie stared at her conjured clothing in amazement.

Vaggie was on the floor, fuming.

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

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

Alastor sang his reprise to Charlie:

“You have a dream You wish to tell And it’s so laughable But hey kid, what the hell!”

 Charlie found herself sliding down what was the staircase moments ago. Alastor led the way as they held hands. They landed on the lower floor as Alastor continued his reprise. Deer statues and painted antlers were everywhere.

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

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

 “‘Cause you’re one of a kind A charming demon belle! Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell (Take it, boys!)”

 Alastor snapped his fingers once more and shadowy imps rose to life from a hole in the ground. The happy spirits played a trumpet, a tuba, and a drum set. Charlie snapped her fingers to the beat, while Vaggie watched with worry. She reached out to her friend but was pulled away by Alastor. He enveloped the group into a tight hug, followed by glowing images of dark spirits staring at them. While Husk, Vaggie and Angel looked on in terror, Niffty watched in amazement, like she had seen it all before.

Alastor pulled Husk and Angel close again. He rubbed Angel’s head with a white hat and went on his merry way. He pulled a strand from one of Husk’s red eyebrows. Husk flipped him the bird as he left.

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

“Pompous pervert!” Vaggie thought in rage as he wondered away with a smirk. Alastor danced some more, kicking a horned skull to the side. In the background, Niffy happily swept up the bits of bone.

 “Inside of every demon is a lost cause But we’ll dress ‘em up now with just a smile! (With a smile!) And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool With some old redemption flair And show these simpletons some proper class and style! (What’s in style? Oh!)”

 He made his way to the circular fireplace, where he waved his staff. Shadows arrived to join the party, including a shadowy version of himself, with large antlers and fangs: Rotsala. The shadow grinned a blue grin at him, before making it disappear in a poof. He then led Charlie in an upbeat dance, spinning her around, helping her match her steps to his. Their noses almost touched. Charlie blushed when he toyed with her cheeks. As Charlie was led away, Vaggie stood in the background, horrified and disgusted. What was happening to her friend?

Charlie and Alastor laughed as they danced, the princess locked in a happy trance. She could almost see the sparkling romantic themed bubbles in the background.

 “Here below the ground I’m sure you’re plan is sound! They’ll spend a little time Down at this Hazbin Ho…”

 Alastor was about to finish his song, when an explosion burst apart a window behind him. The force caused the door to blow off and fly straight into little Niffty’s face, sending her flying back. “Ow! I’m okay!” she called from the distance.

 “Sir Pentious Fucking Dies”

 Soon the colors were back to normal and so were everyone’s outfits. The group peered out from the hole, Alastor craning his neck. The group went out onto the path and spotted a flying blimp. Sir Pentious poked his head out from an opening in the ship, fangs bared.

 “Ha!” the snake inventor laughed. “Well, well, well, look who it is harboring the striped freak!” he called, mentioning to the white spider demon. “We meet again, Alastor!”

 Alastor merely asked with a smug look, “Do I know you?”

 Sir Pentious’ face fell before he grew angry. “Oh yes you do!” He slithered back into his seat. “And this time I have the element of…surprise!”

 He pulled a lever and a cannon lowered to the ground.

 “I’m so evil!” he declared with maniacal laughter as the cannon fired up.

 Alastor snapped his fingers, red tendrils of smoke rising from his hand. The weapon froze in mid fire and a fiery portal opened up below the blimp. Pink smoke filled the air.

 A horde of black tendrils rose from the hole, latching onto the ship. One tentacle ripped off the cannon and threw it into another smaller portal, causing it to explode in pink smoke. One of the tentacles had already smashed a hole in the large round window.

 Sir Pentious looked on in shock as her Egg Bois slammed against the wall (one of them read #Ouch.) One of the eggs cracked open, spilling out yellowish brains and small organs among the stains of yok. Sir Pentious and another minion were thrown against the wall.

 “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he screamed before he was slammed against the ceiling by a black limb.

 “Ow, that hurt!” he cried.

 Sir Pentious screamed as he was forcefully dragged along the floor and lifted up slightly. He was held in place, surrounded by the wrapped up tendril. At once, the tendril shrunk and squeezed the helpless snake. The Egg Bois ran around frantically.

 From the outside, more black tendrils were closing in. Red voodoo symbols appeared around the blimp.

 “Ede m 'sèrviteur.”

 Four horned shadowy spirits with red auras floated around, wearing toothy grins.

 The tendrils were now wrapped around the entire blimp, holding it in place like thick black vines.

 Red radio waves filled Alastor’s eyes as he curled his fingers inward. The sky vanished, replaced with red. Hovering red voodoo symbols appeared all around him as he altered the state of reality. Radio static consumed the air.

 The vines thickened and completely enclosed the blimp. The spirits swooped around it in excitement, with echoing shrieks. The aura around the tendrils glowed a fiery yellow, the same color as the portal rim.

 “Kalfu! Destriksyon pa bra nwa.”

 Alastor closed his four-fingered hand which began to glow. A red drop of blood fell from his glowing hand. The tendrils proceeded to crush the blimp. Pink rays of light shot from the center and the blimp exploded in a loud BOOM!

 Pink smoke spread everywhere as the spirits sped away. The tendrils broke into severed bloody pieces that rained down to the ground. Alastor smiled victoriously, while behind them, the group of five stared in utter terror and shock. (Save for Niffty who had a small smile on her face).

 “Well, I’m starved!” Alastor exclaimed, turning around to face the group. Who wants some jambalaya?” He spread her arms out before leading the way back to the hotel. “My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for jambalaya! In fact, it nearly killed her!”

 He laughed. “You could say the kick was straight out of Hell!” he added while laughing at his own joke. “Oh, I’m on a roll!”

 The others followed him back.

Charlie and Niffty smiled while Husk, Angel, and Vaggie looked on with concern. Niffty scurried around Alastor with a look of admiration. Angel blew Husk a kiss, which earned the druggie demon a glare from the gambler. Charlie turned to Vaggie excitedly. Vaggie reluctantly went along with Charlie’s idea, even giving her a small supporting smile. As long as Charlie was happy, then Vaggie was alright, too.

 From up above, the hotel looked like a mashed-up haunted house. An old dark train was perched on a balcony, with some monstrous faces carved in. A ship, reminiscent of the Titanic, was leaning upwards against the building as part of the structure. An old carousel served as part of the upper balcony and windows. Skull designs decorated the small windows in a row. Finally, on top of a giant yellow eye, was the sign “Happy Hotel” supported by pillars of worn wood.  

 Alastor continued, “Yes sir! This is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set! Now…”

 He glanced up and pointed his finger toward the sign. Pink electricity shot out and made contact with the sign.

 The sign now read “Hazbin Hotel.”

 “Stay tuned,” he finished with a low sinister laugh.

 Back at the crater, smoke took the faces of demons and rose into the air. Broken egg minions littered the ground. One minion rubbed his head. With a shaking arm, Sir Pentious lifted himself up from the gaping hole, fangs shattered, eye swollen.

 “Now will you shoot me with your ray gun?” asked the minion.

 Sir Pentious face-planted on the ground in response.

[themadlostgirl]

Not Dead Yet (Part 41)

*New characters! Woo! Gonna be good! (Also timelines suck so we’re just gonna be playing a little fast and loose with it from here on out)*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

For the next couple of months I played the piper. I had to admit it was more fun than I had thought. I chose a random town, played the pipes, and picked one of the boys to come back. None of them were the Truest Believer but they were much more enthusiastic about being on Neverland than some of the others we had recently recruited.

As for Peter he kept true to his word and didn’t make a move unless I approached him first. One night afterwards I spotted him making torch embers dance along the air. He insisted that his magic was not as powerful as it was before but I like to believe that not leaving Neverland was helping. Being stuck on this island so much though with no breaks from the boys did weigh on him though. He’s never had to be confined before this and I could tell it was driving him a bit mad.

He wanted to know how much time was left in the hourglass but was reluctant about traveling to Skull Rock himself. I told him I’d go in his place and only tell him if it was truly dawning closer to the end. Peter said no. The hourglass was his burden and didn’t want me to worry myself over it anymore than I already was. He wanted me to focus on finding the boy we needed and nothing more. That was until the one night.

After a night out in some other realm I returned back to Neverland. I understood something was amiss the moment I realized how cold it was. Even at night Neverland was incredibly warm. Now though, I could see my breath. I shoved the new kid off with the others and asked Ben what had happened since I left.

“I don’t know. Everything was fine, we were partying the night away, then out of nowhere the heat dropped.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix this.” I muttered. I pulled the pied cloak closer around me and covered my face with the bandana round my neck. It had been so long since I’ve been somewhere so cold and I could feel my lungs struggling to take it in. When I find Peter I am gonna kill him.

I shouted across the island but there was no response. Where had he gone to? I grabbed Candace from my tent and had her fly over the island in hopes she could spot him quicker. She came back a few minutes later and led me to a cliff overlooking Skull Rock. Of course. “He must have already taken the rowboat. Candace, you think my beautiful girl could fly me over?”

She latched her talons onto my shoulders and pulled me off the ground with ease. We flew across the expanse of ocean before she set me down in one of the rock’s eye sockets. “Thanks, sweetie.” I grabbed a handful of berries out of my pocket and set them down for her to snack on.

As I had guessed Peter was sitting in the middle of the cavern staring at the hourglass. “Peter.” I cursed the fact that it was somehow even colder here, “Peter.” I knelt next to him when he didn’t respond. “Chief, you okay?” I moved right in front of his line of sight. He stared back as if realizing for the first time I was speaking.

“Y/N…” his voice seemed disconnected from his body, “The hourglass.”

“What? What about it?” I turned back and saw what he meant. A hairline crack had appeared at the base of the glass and wound all way up toward the top. “That’s not good.”

“I don’t know what it means. I came here after you left to check on it and that was there. It’s a magical hourglass is shouldn’t just crack.”

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. It’s running just the same and no sand is leaking out from it. I see how it is concerning but I don’t think it’s worth all this panic.” I spoke slowly in hopes of soothing him. “Staring at it is only going to make you more paranoid. Let’s get you out of here.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s Neverland. Nothing makes sense.” I reminded him, “Please, let’s go. You’ll feel better once it’s out of sight again.”

“Right.” he swallowed, “Just a crack. Nothing more. You can barely even see it.”

“Exactly.” I shivered despite myself.

“Are you cold?” he noticed my quivering arms.

“Your little panic attack over a tiny crack didn’t make the island any warmer.”

“Apologies, pet.” He held my face in his hands which were blessedly warm compared to the air. I sighed into the touch and he gave me a deep kiss that ignited my insides with heat. “Better?”

“Much.” I was left breathless for an entirely new reason. He smirked back at me and pulled on my hand leading me back down to the boat. I whistled for Candace and she flew from her perch to nestle herself on my lap as Peter rowed us back to shore.

“Peter?”

“Hm?”

“I know you’ve been staying on the island to keep your strength up but maybe you should take a break from it. We could go out, just for one day, forget all this curse nonsense. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

He smirked across at me. “Outside of the patronizing tone it does sound nice. If I’m stuck on this island for another day heads are going to roll.”

“Now don’t do that. Or better yet, if you do go for the whiny kids.”

“I’m so glad you enable me. Makes things easier.” By the time we got to the shore the island had warmed up back to it’s usual humid temperature. “Any ideas on where we could go for our visit tomorrow?”

“I thought I’d let you pick.”

“How considerate.” We got back to camp and the boys were basking in the renewed warmth of the island. “You bring back a new boy?”

“Yes but he isn’t the boy we need. He does seem very promising though.”

“Great. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” I searched the faces and spotted Ben jumping around the fire with the others. “I told you I’d fix it. Where’s the new kid?

“Blondie? He’s over there chatting with Devin.” Ben pointed out a log where Devin and some other boys were inspecting the new boy.

Peter and I walked over to them and I booted Devin out of his spot but before I could sit down Peter took the seat and pulled me down to recline in the space between his legs. “Imp.” I muttered under my breath but didn’t object when he started to play with my hair.

He gave the new kid the lowdown on the island, explaining that he was the real leader and I was just the temporary recruiter. The new kid, Isaac, had almost stark white blonde hair and even paler skin. He was older than the child we were looking for but had a lot of energy that made me eager to see how he would fare during training.

“I would love to see how your first training session goes but I will unfortunately be off island tomorrow.” I mentioned as the night grew later.

“Where are you gonna be?” Devin asked.

“I have a life outside of you idiots.”

“You mean your private time with this idiot?” Devin pointed to Peter. I laughed as Peter let out a long sigh.

“Ha ha,” Peter’s hands left my hair to grab a fistful of Devin’s shirt. “Tread carefully.”

“Only joking.” Devin gulped then snuck off to join another group of boys.

“Well, as fun as this has been I’m going to bed. Night boys.” I settled back in my tent and fell asleep. I had a feeling Peter had a big day planned for tomorrow and I would need my rest to keep up with him.

In the morning he practically pulled me out of my tent and soon we were off. I didn’t know where we were headed but it had me excited. We landed in some town completely devoid of rules like Neverland but instead of children running about there were dozens upon dozens of drunken men, women, and prostitutes. “Charming. And such a...strong smell.”

“It’s a fun place. I used to come here all the time.” Peter looked around the town and pulled on my arm toward the loudest bar. Every window was smashed and some people hung out of them dumping bottles of rum onto the people below.

“Where exactly is here?” I asked.

“Tortuga.” Peter pushed us through the crowd of clumsily dancing and brawling patrons. “It may be filled with reeking adults but there’s another reason I brought us here.”

“And what would that be?”

“To steal one of these filthy pirate’s ships and take it for a ride.”

“You want to steal a pirate’s ship? Now that does sound like fun.”

“It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for a while. With my magic I should be able to command it myself no problem. We just need to find the right one.”

“Alrighty then. Let’s stop burning daylight and go!”

“Not so fast.” Peter grabbed my collar pulling me back. “You eagerness is inviting but first we need to wait till nightfall. That’s when all the pirates are at their least sober. We’ll hang out here, pick out which ship we want, then when the sun sets we’ll steal it. Think you can wait that long?”

“If this wasn’t going to work until nightfall then why did you pull me out of bed so early in the morning?”

“Cause I needed off Neverland as soon as possible. If I had to spend another moment there then I was going to end up back at Skull Rock.”

“Peter,” I wanted to say something to comfort him but the words escaped me. Instead I decided to divert his mind from the worrisome thoughts and dragged him to a secluded corner hidden from prying eyes. He fell into the distraction gratefully as we shagged in the corner.

The morning pressed on and it amused me to no end how one town could be so rip-roaring drunk all the time. Peter and I were staking out the ships picking out our favorite. There was a beautiful ship with black sails docked at the pier. I  suggested taking that one but Peter advised against it. It was too big. We needed something a tad smaller.

We chose a nice medium sized ship called the Silver Lining. Promptly named for the silver edging around the fresh white sails. It stood out among the crusty pirate ships. Whoever docked here surely didn’t mind a bit of flamboyance. “Ooh, looky who else is here.” I pointed further down the dock. A familiar ship was anchored nearby and Captain Hook stepped onto the pier.

“Maybe we should take his for a joy ride.” I felt drawn to the ship.

“No pet. I don’t want to get into another fight with him because we took his ship. Let’s focus on our own fun and if we have time later we’ll mess with him.”

“Fine. What game can we play now? I’m getting bored.”

“Hm? I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Hide and seek?”

“Really?”

“Yep. We’re not on the island so you can’t just locate me.”

“Fine. Go hide.” He turned around and I took off to find the perfect hiding spot.

I ducked inside a stable and buried myself under a pile of hay. While waiting for Peter to find me I thought about all the fun we would have out on the open sea. Despite having seen many lands and gone on my own adventures I had never sailed. To be in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. I couldn’t wait.

I wasn’t paying attention and a body dropped onto me. “Hey! Shove off!” I pushed the person off me. I fully expected it to be some random or even Peter being an ass but it was neither. It was some woman with dark skin and long black hair braided down to her waist. She was dressed in some animal skin but not like the pelts the boys and I wore. What threw me off more was the notched dagger pointed at me.

“What in the world are you doing in there?” she snapped at me.

“Looking for buried treasure.” I rolled my eyes as I withdrew my own dagger. “What the hell are you doing dropping yourself on me?”

“Well I wasn’t expecting a girl to be hiding under it. Put away the dagger, you are outside your skill.”

“And you severely underestimate who you are dealing with.”

“You’ve got nerve, I respect that.” She gave me a tiny smirk.

“Same.” I smirked back. As if we read each other’s minds we sheathed our daggers but kept a good distance from away from one another. She was still a stranger. Her dark eyes reminded me of a wild animal’s as in they couldn’t be read. She simply stared and I couldn’t make out what it was she could possibly be thinking. Not something I had ever encountered before.

“So, you look a little young to be traversing towns like this. Why are you here?”

“Just visiting with a friend. What about you? You definitely don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Just passing through.” she shrugged, “I never stay in the same place for long. With all these ships I should be able to sneak aboard and get out of here soon enough.”

“Well my friend and I are planning on commandeering a ship later tonight if you’re interested in tagging along. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“A kind gesture but I’ll have to decline. The land I’m looking to escape to is another realm. Stealing a mere ship isn’t going to get me there.”

“Another realm, you say?” The small beans in my pocket shifted as I started to pace the woman. “Again, I may be able to help with that. Come grab a drink with me?”

“Aren’t you a tad too young to drink?”

“I’m older than I look.”

“Fair enough.” It didn’t take us long to find a bottle of rum or gin and settled down in the back of one of the bars. We passed the bottle between us taking small sips so neither of us were compromised in case either tried anything. She didn’t trust easy. Another thing we had in common.

“So tell me, why is it you’re looking to escape to another realm?”

“I’ve gotten in a little trouble. Angered a few people I shouldn’t have. I need someplace away from all that.”

“Now that sounds familiar.” I took another sip of the rum, “I could get you out of here. It’d cost you greatly though.”

“If it’s riches you want--”

“Please,” I scoffed, “I use gold coins as skipping stones. No, what I would need from you would be something entirely different. A favor of sorts.”

Her hands clenched tighter around the neck of the bottle. “What sort of favor?”

“This realm you want to escape to, it has to be my realm.” I pulled out my dagger and started carving little circles in the table. “It’s a wonderful place. Warm. Plenty to eat. Never a dull moment. No rules.”

“Why would I have to go back to your realm specifically?”

“Can I be honest with you? I feel like I can.” I stabbed the dagger into the table, “I am the only girl in this realm outside from the murderous mermaids. I love my boys but if I am the sole female any longer I am going to lose it. You, well you seem tough enough to endure the kind of lifestyle my realm calls for. You get what you want and I get what I want. Sound fair?”

“What kind of realm only has one girl in it?”

“A realm like no other. This is your only chance. What do you say?”

She pondered it for a moment and took a long pull from the bottle before settling her unreadable dark gaze on me once again. “You got yourself a deal. Where is this realm?”

“A quaint little place called Neverland.” At this the color drained from her and she remained unblinking. “Heard of it, have you?”

“Yes…” she cleared her throat, “I thought it was just an old folk lore.”

“Far from it. Still want to go?”

She nodded. “If it gets me out of here. Yes. I’ll go.” Despite the almost regal posture she held herself her voice wavered. “When do we leave?”

“That part is a little trickier.” I can’t give her a bean or else Peter will know it was I who gave it to her. Magic beans weren’t exactly a household object outside of Neverland. I remembered who I had seen earlier and an idea wormed it’s way into my mind. “I’ve got it. Wait here. If all goes well you should be out of here before nightfall. Can you be ready to go by then?”

“Yes. What are you doing?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” I dashed out of the bar. I spotted Peter roaming the town still searching for me. I had almost forgotten about our game. It’s better he doesn’t know about this. He had no problem with me bringing new boys to the island but I didn’t know how he’d react to bringing a full grown woman.

I searched through the bars until I heard the familiar voice of a certain captain ringing from within. I slipped inside and spotted Hook and his crew having some drinks and shamelessly flirting with some barmaids. They had a deck of cards strewn on the table as they showed the woman how to play their game. “Ahem,” I walked up to the group, “Looks fun. Mind if I join?”

“Y/N,” Hook glared at me, “What are you doing here?”

“Excuse us men, I need to have a word with the captain.” I motioned for Hook to follow. He remained seated. “Did I forget to mention that I am not here alone, captain?” At this his jaw set. I smirked as he pushed the floozy off his lap and stalked over to where I was standing.

“What do you want?”

“I need you to ferry someone for me.”

“Another boy?”

“Not this time.” I swept my gaze over the bar to make sure Peter wasn’t in earshot, “A woman. She’ll be at your ship later this evening. I need you to take her to Neverland and for your own safety don’t try to woo her. Something tells me it wouldn’t end well for you.”

“Why do I need to do this?”

“I believe my reasons are my own. Just do as I say and you will not suffer any consequences. Understood?”

“Fine. What does the lass look like?”

“Dark skin, long black hair, dark eyes. Trust me, she’d be hard to mistake. It is imperative you get back to Neverland before Peter and I. So no dallying.” I pat his arm, “Glad we had this discussion. See you back on Neverland.”

I snuck back to the other bar and informed the woman that the travel arrangements had been made. She was to find the Jolly Roger and it’s hook handed captain before nightfall. She thanked me and got up to leave.

“Wait,” she turned back to me, “I never asked your name.”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Tigerlily.”

“A pleasure meeting you Tigerlily. I’m sure we’ll be having a lot of fun together in the future.” I smirked at her and for a moment I saw something almost like recognition flicker in those unreadable eyes. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. She disappeared out the door. I went back to my hiding spot and was soon found by Peter.

We laughed and he went off to hide completely unaware of my plans. I was almost looking forward to how this was going to blow up in my face later.

(First) (Previous) (Next)

[kagetsukai]

Six Dates And How To Fail At Them [Cullen-centric]

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/(??)

Metaverse: Dance Like No One Is Watching (modern AU/dance!fic)

Synopsis: Cullen Rutherford is not completely incapable of finding himself a date, but he just doesn't have time to look. When his friends catch the wind of it, they volunteer to help him improve his love life. To various degrees of success, of course.

Read on AO3

Over the years Cullen had tried – really, he did - to find a woman who would put up with his particular set of peculiarities. That being said, he wasn't exactly keen on approaching random women, perusing online sites, or putting himself at a bar on a Friday night. All of that sounded worse than spending a whole day calibrating a finicky trebuchet. So when some of his friends decided to help him find female companionship, he was almost relieved.

He should have known better than to trust Varric with these choices, but he learned that lesson a tad too late. As he sat at a booth of some disreputable dive, the dwarf in question sitting across from him, in came a woman that he could only have been described as 'The Sex'. Her luscious brown body completely filled out her skimpy white dress and the overflow boldly spilled in all the right places. She immediately spotted him and he felt like prey pinned down by a hungry vulture.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” she purred at him as she sat down and slid uncomfortably close. “Varric never mention he had such sexy friends.”

Panic set in Cullen's chest as he desperately tried to signal to Varric not to leave him alone with this temptress, but the dwarf handily ignored him, going as far as throwing a parting wink.

Perhaps the whole date would not have been such a sound disaster if it wasn't for the fact that Isabela – that was her name – had insisted on getting super close and personal, which put him on the edge the entire evening. Cullen would keep trying to start a conversation, anything between a local sports team to something about politics, but she would dismiss him with half syllable responses and low, throaty giggles. It all ended abruptly the moment he felt a not-so-subtle touch on his right thigh. At first he thought it was an accident, but when a warm, solid hand aggressively fell between his thighs and squeezed, a startled yelp escaped his throat.

“Ooo... you're a big boy,” she whispered while he fought to remove her hand as quickly as possible. “Wanna take this somewhere more... private?”

“I don't think so,” he growled in reply and moved himself as far away as he could. Which wasn't far enough. “Let go of me.”

In the following commotion Cullen somehow managed to remove himself from Isabela's tight grip, settle the bill, and make a hasty retreat out the diner. Later, he would hope he didn't come off as too rude, but at that moment he wanted to run off to the other side of creation.

The voice message he left Varric that night borderlined on belligerent and uncouth, but he was too enraged to care. Sensing that, the dwarf didn't dare speak to him for two weeks straight.

===============================

When Varric approached him next about a potential date, Cullen refused immediately. Just the mention of the name Isabela – and he did come across her more often that he liked – brought on burning shame and terrible discomfort. Still, the stubborn dwarf shrugged and pulled up a picture on his phone.

“I think she's more your speed, Curly,” he said and casually pointed it towards Cullen. “She's super sweet, really easy-going, and I guarantee she won't try anything untoward.”

The face that looked back at him was beyond beautiful, Cullen noted. This woman had lovely dark hair - almost black - ivory skin, and piercing brown eyes; she was looking at something off camera and laughing without restraint. He swallowed around a lump in his throat as his heart did a weird little stumble.

“What's the catch, Varric?” he asked. There was always a catch.

Varric gave him a level stare.

“The catch is that if you break her heart, I will break you harder.”

Cullen frowned around a pause.

“I don't understand. If she's so precious to you, why try setting her up with me? I'm not exactly desirable.”

Varric gave him a look that was both bewildered and incredulous.

“Really, Curly?” he asked and without missing a beat, he continued. “Her family is a little too crazy, if you ask me, and I'd love to see her with someone who could take care of her when the eventual shit hits the fan. She seems to like a man in armor and you're not exactly difficult on the eyes. You have the chance to not fuck it up.”

The finality of the statement bode no further discussion and Cullen didn't press it. Instead, he agreed to exchange numbers with this woman and see where things went.

All in all, their first date went great. Beth was a sweet and gentle soul who volunteered at the local clinic for the needy while she studied to become a licensed physician. They seemed to have a whole lot in common and he was pleasantly surprised she was a devoted Andrastian. Their conversation had a wonderful ebb and flow to it, and Cullen was slowly understanding why Varric took a shining to this delightful woman. When he finally walked her home at a horribly late hour, he wondered if the little smiles she kept shooting him were an indicator he would be able to kiss her goodnight. Alas, it was not meant to be.

“Bethany Hawke! Where in the Void have you been?”

The rough and gruff voice that assaulted his ears sounded entirely too familiar and Cullen closed his eyes in resignation. Of course it was too good to be true. There was always a catch.

“I'm an adult, sister. You don't get to give me a curfew.”

“And who are you with? Wait...” the woman paused in her tirade. “Is that Cullen? Ser Cullen? As in, you are dating a Templar now?”

“Yes, we went on a date! What of it?”

Hoo boy, this was getting more than Cullen had bargained for. In his line of work he had constant run-ins with a ragtag group of misfits that he always found involved in something and Marian Hawke seemed to be their leader. She had a reputation of a stubborn and willful woman who defied authority at every corner, though it seemed her younger sister had some of that fire as well. The two women were having a row in front of their house and Cullen fervently begged the Maker to send a raging dragon as a distraction. It didn't come.

“How about I just leave you to it,” he cut in once he realized there would be no other way to interrupt them. “It seems like my presence here is unwelcome. Have a good night, ladies.”

He bowed and left the two Hawkes behind. When he got home, he did not call Varric to yell at him, but instead poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat there, mourning all that could have been and never would be. As he steadily drank the liquor, he vowed to never agree to any more dates with Varric's acquaintances.

===============================

Cullen was having a severe case of deja vu while sitting at a tall table inside of some swanky lunch place. It had an Orlesian name plastered all over the walls and menu, and he felt significantly under-dressed.

“This is a bad idea,” he mumbled to Cassandra under his breath. “I've told you--”

“Nonsense! You're overreacting,” she scoffed at him. “ I did not propose you marry the woman. This is just lunch between adults.”

Cullen tried hard not to roll his eyes. “I know nothing about this woman,” he hissed.

“Which is why I'm introducing you here, on neutral ground,” she pointed out and suddenly spotted someone at the door. “Ah. She is here.”

The next several minutes Cullen spent on introductions, subversive – and clearly mutual – checking each other out, and ordering of their respective lunches. He noticed that Threnn ordered something heavy on the meat and light on the 'frill'. He hummed with approval.

“I don't know why Cassandra chose this place,” she whispered to him conspiratorially. “I'm pretty sure we're both so Fereldan we might already have matching Mabari tattoos.”

Cullen coughed into his hand in an effort to mask his laugh and looked down at the woman as if seeing her properly for the first time. Her mouth was quirked in a cocky grin and he found himself returning it.

“I'm still working on getting mine, I'm afraid,” he quipped back.

His optimistic mood did not last long. Once Cassandra excused herself to make a 'very urgent, work-related phone call', Cullen got to converse with the woman in earnest. While Threnn seemed perfectly nice, albeit direct, she soon started sharing opinions he didn't even ask about.

“I really don't understand why Loghain had to be executed. He was single most decorated general in Ferelden's history. He would have been a perfect asset to this administration.”

Cullen frowned, trying to will his impending headache away.

“He was a traitor to his country, in case you forgot.”

“He made one strategic mistake. One!” she exclaimed louder than he was comfortable with in a public place. “That's not enough to kill the man.”

“There were charges of aiding and abetting Tevinter slavers as well as involvement in orchestrating an elven genocide,” Cullen ground out in the most level tone he could manage.

“That was fake news and you know it,” she decided with a glare. “And even if he did do it, so what? There's been too much riffraff in our country for too long. If we could ship them all away, we could make Ferelden great again.”

At that point Cullen chose to focus completely on his food, in case the words that wanted to come out didn't stay behind his teeth. He waited patiently for Cassandra to return, making only non-committal grunts when prompted.

Later, once alone with Cassandra at her desk, he repeated the whole interaction and made her promise to never set him up with anyone else again.

===============================

In a true fashion of perpetually inept and unlucky he found himself drunk and alone one Friday night, desperately craving companionship. Samson, his roommate who somehow had no issues finding women to be with, had suggested trying out the newest dating app that seemed to be all the rage. Fueled by liquid courage Cullen signed up and started browsing what looked like an endless stream of female faces, one lovelier than the next. When he set up a date for the next evening, he fell into bed feeling like the luckiest man alive.

The next morning brought a horrifying case of a hangover and several text messages from a girl that was saved in his phone as DalishFlower. Memories came back slowly, and with a fuzzy sheen that didn't match his mood, so he went through each and every name he contacted to make sure he didn't make more mistakes. With the app scrubbed from his device, he stared at the influx of cutesy messages that kept coming from a clearly elven girl whose name he could not remember. She seemed like a sweet girl, albeit eager, and Cullen felt guilty for accidentally leading her on. His mind made up, he set out for their meeting spot.

The Dalish restaurant – Halla Good – was quite to his liking, even if the meats were a bit gamier than what he was used to. There were a lot of vegetables as sides, both pickled and fresh, and everything seemed to be roasted on an open fire. If only his dinner companion was equally as agreeable. The elven girl that bounded through the door was incredible: she was an exotic beauty painted in dark hair and green eyes, she had a fantastically quick mind, and she seemed like the sweetest person on the planet. That being said, Cullen knew within the first five minutes he would not ask her for a second date.

“My Keeper is convinced I've made a mistake in devoting my life to preserving the eluvian – that's that old mirror I already told you about. It's a piece of Dalish history and she would have me keep it away as if something was wrong with it. She keeps telling me it's blighted, as if it was a living thing! Preposterous. She knows nothing on the topic. Besides, it's not like I'm going to make human blood sacrifice to fix it,” she rattled off in one breath and stopped. She looked at his face and frowned. “Do you get pedicures? I hear humans really like to have soft feet. Is that something you do?”

“I--”

“Oh, I'm sorry, am I being weird again? I'm being weird again, aren't I. Here, let me pour you some tea!”

The entire evening consisted of in-depth dissertations of Dalish culture, intersected by random comments about humans that Cullen had no rebuttal to or was genuinely surprised to be asked about. While at first he tried to insert even a full sentence of a reply to anything, he soon gave up and instead applied himself to devouring all sorts of grilled meat, steamed vegetables, and fresh cheese. Besides, the girl didn't need a conversation partner for most of the things she was talking about, anyway.

When the evening came to an end, Cullen stood with her just outside of the establishment's doors, trying really hard not to come off as a raging asshole.

“So, Merrill...”

She looked up to him with an intensely verdant stare. “Yes, Cullen?”

“I had a good time today--”

“Is this where you ask me to your place and we have sex?” she blurted out.

Cullen felt his face flame with a shade of red he hadn't experienced in a long while.

“What? No!” he exclaimed a little louder than he wanted. “That's not what I was going--”

“Oh.” She sounded confused. “But my friend Isabela told me that humans went on dates then they had sex. Is that not how it works?”

Why was Isabela still haunting his life? A variety of conflicting emotions danced through Cullen's mind at this revelation and he cleared his throat.

“That does happen with some people who are a little more... ummm... flexible with their... ummm... preferences.” Sweet Andraste, he was going to combust from embarrassment in front of this girl. “There's nothing wrong with that, of course! I just... I don't do that.”

“Oh.” Merrill still sounded a little confused, but no longer eager. “So, no sex?”

Cullen reached for his neck and prodded the painful knot that already started to form there.

“No, I don't think that's a good idea,” he said in the softest voice he could come up with. “Also, while I enjoyed our time together tonight, I don't think we are compatible enough for... ummm... future dates.”

For the first time that night Merrill stayed quiet and just stared at his face with an unreadable expression, as if searching for some secret meaning hidden there. She may have found something, because she nodded to herself, as if in confirmation.

“Of course. I understand. Have a good night, Cullen,” she said.

She abruptly turned on her heel and walked away into the night without any other explanation or without giving Cullen a chance to say goodbye.

Not even a week later he found his Templar protective gear covered in itching powder along with a note 'That's for making Kitten sad'. It was soon followed by a visit from Varric with not-so-subtle questions about whether or not he was prejudiced against elven women.

That's when Cullen vowed he would sooner die a celibate bachelor than agree to another blind date.

===============================

It took several years, and a fair share of trauma, but the sting of failed dates wore off, dulled, and joined all other things he would rather not think about. With the rise of the Inquisition he had a new set of responsibilities to worry about and his personal life took a distant back seat. Which most likely was the reason why his newest, and largest, work companion showed up in his office one evening with a suggestion of a date.

“She's fire, I can tell. All redheads are,” the Qunari extolled her virtues. “I did offer to let her ride the Bull, but she declined. I'm not one to force a woman, but maybe she wants a man who is more her size?”

Cullen pointedly ignored the backhanded comment about his manhood and side-glanced at his companion.

“I don't have a good track record with women, Bull” he felt he should mention. “I seem to attract a very particular kind of crazy.”

The Qunari shrugged.

“Crazy can be good. Crazy chicks tend to know some fun things in the sack,” he chuckled. “Not that I know much about Lace's proclivities.”

Shocked, Cullen raised his eyebrows.

“Lace? As in Lace Harding, Leliana's chief reconnaissance lieutenant? You're trying to set me up with a woman who can probably stab me if I look at her wrong?”

Bull chuckled somewhat lecherously.

“I have a feeling you could handle a woman like that,” he said and winked. “Plus, she doesn't strike me as bloodthirsty as her boss. When out in the field, she's cool as you please and nothing really fazes her. I think you two can absolutely hit it off.”

That was how Cullen ended up connecting with a dwarven woman with an impossible schedule that rivaled his own. They did eventually exchange phone numbers due to Bull's subtle meddling and messaged each other on a regular basis; they got to know each other through a series of topics, like favorite movies, current hobbies, or the first live concert they went to. Cullen found it extremely easy to chat with Lace and became increasingly more hopeful for the success of their first date. If it ever happened.

It was she who managed to come up with a solution.

 Lace: How would you feel about doing something informal and active? :)

 Cullen: What did you have in mind?

 Lace: I'll be in town this weekend. Would you like to join me Saturday morning for rock climbing?

He stared at the words and a sudden feeling in the pit of his stomach tickled at his nerves. This could be it.

 Cullen: I could make it.

 Cullen: I've never done it, though.

 Lace: No worries! I've got you covered. Just make sure you wear workout clothes you don't mind ripping or getting covered in talc.

 Lace: Would 7am be okay or is that too early? :P

Cullen actually laughed out loud, startling his assistant that sat in the office with him. He felt a blush prickle at his ears and cheeks, and he coughed to cover his embarrassment.

 Cullen: Please. I'm a career military man. It will feel like I slept in.

 Lace: Great. It's a date then?

 Cullen: It's a date.

He once again stared at the words and felt an increasing sense of panic as it trickled down his spine. Perhaps this could go well - they had been casually texting for several weeks now - but a nagging feeling that something would go wrong refused to leave. He took a few deep breaths and willed himself to relax; this was just a date.

Saturday morning Cullen woke up almost an hour before his already early alarm and spent most of the extra time fussing with his hair, his clothes, his phone, then his hair again. He almost texted Lace twice to cancel, only to berate himself for being foolish and a frightened child. It would be fine, he kept telling himself. He almost believed it, too. When he got into his car, it was with plenty of time to spare and he arrived at the spot almost half an hour early.

When Lace pulled in fifteen minutes later, she jumped out of her Mini Cooper with energy of a woman used to early mornings. She wore clothes that looked comfortable and practical, and Cullen allowed himself to briefly look her over, appreciating her sculpted shoulders and clearly muscular thighs. This was a woman with functional strength and a confidence in her body.

She stepped closer and a lovely smile split her face.

“Commander.”

She stopped, immediately screwed her eyes shut and reopened them, clearly apologetic.

“I'm sorry. Cullen. It's still a little difficult to separate you from the name on my paperwork.”

He chuckled.

“That's alright. As long as you don't start saluting me, we should be fine.”

It was her turn to laugh.

“I'll keep that in mind.” She pointed to the duffel bag in her hand. “I've got my stuff. Shall we go in?”

“Let's do that.”

Cullen had always thought himself to be a fit individual, especially since he had spent most of his professional time training recruits and getting them ready for the field, but the two hours he spent rock climbing with Lace taught him otherwise. Even with her direction and support he kept putting extra strain on muscles he didn't know he possessed and it didn't take long before he was covered in sweat, dirt and talc. That being said, when they decided to call it a day, he could not remember the last time he felt this free or this happy.

“So, what did you think?” she asked him as they slowly walked towards their parking spots.

“That was fantastic, but I will definitely feel it in the morning.”

She nodded. “The first time is rough on just about everybody. If you decide to keep up with it, you'll build up callouses and your body will get used to the strain.”

He was going to say something in return but then they stopped at her car and she turned to him, pinning him in place with a stare. Suddenly Cullen remember this was a date and his gut did a weird flip. Was he supposed to kiss her? They were both covered in filth, and they haven't really flirted while climbing, and he wasn't even sure if she liked him that way, and--

“Cullen, I'll spare you the guesswork,” Lace tripped his trail of thought and she tilted her head with a smile. “I think you're a great guy, I really do, and I did enjoy spending time with you, but... I think we should remain friends.”

Relief that flooded his senses was tangible. He chuckled nervously and reached to massage a knot in his neck that wasn't even there yet.

“Oh thank the Maker,” he exhaled. “I had no idea how to say it so I'm glad you're better at articulating your thoughts than I am.”

Her already sweet smile widened and she raised an eyebrow.

“Commander of the Inquisition who doesn't know how to speak his mind? I find that hard to believe.”

Cullen shrugged.

“It's one thing to yell at soldiers all day long. It's something else entirely when I'm faced with a pretty girl whom I'd like to stay friends with.”

She chuckled.

“Well, since you're being so sweet, I'll let you off the hook,” she announced and reached out her hand. “Friends?”

He took it and shook it once.

“Friends.”

They parted with friendly waves and promises to keep in touch, Cullen then returned home and decided he was just hungry enough for a late breakfast. While he prepped his meal, he grinned happily at having made a friend. He wondered briefly if Lace would let him tag along the next time she went rock climbing and he reached for his phone. Her reply was quick and to the point.

 Absolutely.

===============================

“Maybe you should try something different?” were Bull's exact words and the phrase had put Cullen's teeth on edge at once.

When the Qunari found out about the platonic nature of his ongoing relationship with Lace Harding, he got a strange look in his eye that did not bode well. The results were more ridiculous than he could have expected.

“Iron Bull!” he roared as he stormed into the Chargers’ quarters. “I need a word with you. Privately.

He stomped into the closest empty office, which happened to be Cassandra’s, and slammed the doors closed once the other man walked through.

“Did you think it was a good joke?” he hissed at Bull. “What the world possessed you to… to…”

“What?” the Qunari asked with a shrug. “Did you not have a good time at your date?”

Cullen wiped his face with both hands and groaned.

“For the first and last time, Bull: I am straight,” he said through his clenched teeth. “And please, no more set ups. I am done.”

Bull frowned. “Why?”

“Because you set me up with Fenris, you ass!” Cullen exclaimed and immediately clamped his mouth shut, afraid he could be heard outside the office.

For a brief second the two men just stared at each other, but then the moment broke as Bull guffawed in a booming voice and reached to clap Cullen’s shoulder.

“And that upset you?” he roared with laughter. “C’mon. It couldn’t have been that bad?”

Cullen screwed his eyes shut for a moment, recalling the awkward date from the night before, and ground his teeth again.

“It was worse! He clearly knew what he was getting into, I did not. Once that awkward conversation happened, he proceeded to order a lot of wine and getting shit-faced drunk. I had to help him get home and he threw up on my shoes.”

The Qunari was in a fit of such intense giggles that there were tears streaming down his face and he had issues drawing a breath. He kept trying to get a word out, but nothing would come. At that point, Cullen chose to cut his losses and stormed out of the the office in a huff, hoping that whatever else the Iron Bull had in mind, he could just… ignore it.

[insecwrites]

Spectral Advisor (Starscream/Skyfire )

Summary: After some time out of the ice, Skyfire leaves the war and the Autbots behind. As he is trying to cope with the loss of his friend, partner, and old life, he encounters Starscream at his desk.  ...Wasn't he dead though?

--> Read on AO3 <--

Or click Read More to read it here on Tumblr!

When Skyfire saw Starscream standing at his desk, he thinks he’s had too much Energex. It would not be the first time he’d drank more than he’d intended to, but he had never straight-up hallucinated.

Starscream didn’t acknowledge him, busy as he was trying to flip to the next entry on Skyfire’s personal datapad. His hands were phasing through the controls, and he was scowling at the thing in a manner that suggests he would toss the datapad out of a viewing port if he could touch it. Skyfire had seen Starscream’s coronation, where he announced himself as the new leader of the Decepticons. It had been broadcasted on any and all Cybertronian frequencies through the galaxy, in glorious detail. In the first few moments after Starscream’s live death, Skyfire had wondered if there was enough of Starscream left to have a funeral for.

Maybe that should have been the first sign that his mental state was taking a nosedive. Or maybe he ws still suffering from all those millions of years frozen in ice, and the effects were only now showing up.

“Starscream? …” He said breathlessly.

Starscream jolted, and it was a good thing he phased through whatever he touched or all of Skyfire’s desktop would have ended up on the floor. For a moment, they simply looked at each other in silence. Skyfire in a pained hope, and Starscream in-… excuberation?

“You can see me?!” Starscream yelled.

He was loud – far louder than Skyfire would have expected him to be as a hallucination. He’d been expecting something more morose and depressing, with crying and guilt tripping, but this Starscream was just as lively as ever, his wings angling through a wide array of emotions as he waved his hand towards Skyfire’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?!”

“I- … All of them?” Skyfire reached out to grab Starscream’s hands by habit, as he used to whenever Starscream got a little too physical in a discussion, but his fingers slipped right through.

Starscream did not look bothered. “I knew it! I knew it!” He crowed. “It wouldn’t have made sense otherwise! Yes! This changes everything, oh yes-!”

“Starscream-…” Skyfire reset his optics, watching as Starscream celebrated. “How are you here? Aren’t you…You’re dead?”

“  Was being the keyword in that sentebce.” Starscream replied. “I didn’t STAY dead, as you can see, and that’s what matters the most. Well, actually, it matters a lot more that you can see, because surviving death when you cannot interact with the world is terrible. I would know!”

Skyfire shook his head incredulously. “I-…How could you come back from  death  ? You-… There was a breeze and your frame  literally  fell apart and blew away. ”

“Well, I just woke up like this.” Starscream replied flippantly. “I assumed that my lust for vengeance allowed me to return so I could haunt Galvatron, but it turned out he couldn’t see me. The best I could do was disrupt the signals to his entertainment hub, and that got old very quickly. I then attempted to communicate with the living, with similar underwhelming results.  ‘Commlink acting weird …’  You’d think a scientist like Wheeljack would figure something out that someone is trying to communicate from beyond the Allspark!”

Skyfire had nothing much to say. Just as when he’d watched Starscream die, it seemed that his emotions were on break, waiting to swoop right back into the fray as soon as the shock died down.

“And don’t bother going to see any of those ‘mediums’. I visited Dirge, and then a depressingly long list of filthy little organics, and none of them could hear a single word that I said!” Starscream was getting agitated just thinking about it, judging by the way his wings snapped up. “But, all of that is in the past, because now, I know that I am real, and that I can actually do something with all the things I’ve seen and heard in this state!”

“Oh. I could see that being... frustrating.” Skyfire nodded. All senses other than his optics and his audials were reporting that there was, in fact, nobody in front of him.

“You have  no  idea.” Starscream complained. “I have enough dirty secrets in my brainmodule to topple a government, and that is barely an exaggeration. All I need is someone to help me bring this information into the world, in a fitting manner!” Starscream’s optics were piercing and red, and they held Skyfire’s gaze long enough that Skyfire could begin to see through him and into the room behind him. Skyfire had many memories that featured that very same look; Starscream’s patented look of persuasion.  

“… It’s for a better world too, before you get upset at me for my ambition.”

“… You have to understand that I’m not sure you are real right now.” Skyfire said in a measured tone. “I was buried in ice for a few million years, lived through some war, avoided the doctor, and I think I drank a little too much energon.”

Starscream blinked. “I-? … Do we really have to go through that!? There are things to DO! Urgent things!”

“… If you are the real Starscream, you would agree that it is a bad idea to listen to random hallucinations.” Skyfire replied.

“Fine.” Starscream bit back. “I will give you  proof . What is the name of the current Prime?”

What an odd question. The answer was obvious, wasn’t it? “Optimus Prime?”

Starscream smirked. “No. Not anymore. He got someone to succeed him. Want to take a guess who that was?”

“...Ultra Magnus? Magnius Prime?” Skyfire could tell he was wrong the moment he said it, if only because Starscream’s grin grew two ticks wider.

“Wrong!” Starscream crowed. “The new Prime is a young mech hailing from Nyon. A racing frame, raised on a neutral colony. I was a witness to his ceremony, where he became a Prime by the simple act of trying to hand the Matrix to Ultra Magnus. Upon becoming the spiritual leader of our race, his first acts as Prime was to mortally wound himself so he could gain advice from the Matrix.”

“…This has to be something I am hallucinating.” Skyfire said. “He-… the Matrix wouldn’t let a Prime do something like that… Is Optimus really dead-?”

“Go ahead and call Bumblebee. He was there to see it happen.” Starscream continued. “Oh! Maybe ask Arcee or Kup instead, they were both there when ‘Hot Rod’ arose to Primehood.”

“...”

“And I’ll say that his name fit his personality very well. He was apparently a berth-hopper before Primehood.” Starscream smirked. “Verrry kinky, judging by what I found in his private quarters. I could tell you his commlink number and you can embarrass him by asking him about that fake spike he keeps under his berth.”

“Okay – stop, just… Give me a moment.” Skyfire squeezed his optics shut, and stroked the transformation lines on his helm. It felt like his head was shrinking around his brain module. “I’ll call someone on Cybertron.” Starscream leaned against something invisible, and made a ‘hurry up’ motion with his hands.

Skyfire looked through his commlink contacts, scanning for Bumblebee’s name in between old pre-war contacts. With the distance between himself and Cybertron, it took a few moments for the call to connect, and the first few glyphs spoken were garbled by static.

//Uh, Hello, Skyfire?// Bumblebee said. //I wasn’t expecting you to call, after you left. Without saying anything to anyone, or leaving a message…. What’s up?//

“Hello Bumblebee.” Skyfire said. For a moment, he felt compelled  “I’m calling to confirm a rumour; is it true that a new Prime has been chosen?”  

//I… Where did you hear that?//

“That news is travelling far faster than the Autobots think it is.” Starscream said, impatiently tapping a foot a few inches above the floor. “The Junkions really enjoy broadcasting whatever gossip they can get their hands on, and Cybertronian gossip is very sought after. Lately even more so, with the Quintessons searching for Cybertron-”

“Starscream – I am in a call!” Skyfire stage whispered, trying to keep his voice low enough so that his commlink wouldn’t pick it up.

// Skyfire? Are you still there? //

“Oh! Yes, sorry Bumblebee. I was-… It was on the news. Just, please tell me who the new Prime is.”

//Okay, that’s good. Are you okay? Nobody has heard from you, and the war is officially over, so you could come back to Cybertron and help to rebuild it.//

Skyfire offlined his optics. “I just want to know who the Prime is, Bumblebee. Before I do anything else. Just to be sure I’ll be of any help, you know?”

//O-kayy? Well, you probably know Ultra Magnus was next in line, but he’s not the Prime. Someone grabbed the Matrix to hand it over, and the Matrix chose him. His name is Rodimus Prime. //

Skyfire’s optic’s met Starscreams. “…. Is that derived from ‘Hot Rod’ ?”

// How did you know that? // Bumblebee asked quickly. //Who told you?!//

“I told you, didn’t I?” Starscream said with a smirk. “Is there anything else you want to confirm, or can we talk business now?”

Skyfire didn’t answer him, still too busy staring at a most-likely-real Starscream apparition. Back from the dead to meddle in  politics  of all things. In his spark, he could feel the telltale hiccups that meant his shock was coming to an end. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling just yet, but it wouldn’t be very long.

//He’s-  well, I haven’t been around him too much, but he’s very different from Optimus.// Bumblebee continued to chat in Skyfire’s commlink, oblivious to SKyfire’s shifting attention.  //I think it could be good. A new Prime for a new time, you know? Jazz seems to like him. You could meet him, if you came to Cybertron to meet him. //

“Yes. I will have to think about that.” Skyfire said. He didn’t take his eyes off Starscream for a moment. “I have things to do, Bumblebee, if you’ll excuse me. Good orn.”

//Um, alright? Good or-//

He closed the commlink connection to Cybertron before Bumblebee finished speaking, and focused his attention on Starscream.

“You. Are real.”

“Yes, I do believe we proved this now.” Starscream replied.

“You came back from the dead, from being vaporised into fragments so small that nobody could even find me a vail full for a proper burial … And the first thing you do when you come back and talk to me, is to try to take part in  politics ? Together with me?” Skyfire spoke slowly to let the meaning of his words sink in for the both of them.

“… Yes.” Starscream said, not a trace of shame or guilt in his face.

Skyfire closed his optics. Underneath the joy of seeing his friend again, and the knowledge that a second betrayal would win nothing for Starscream, that first betrayal still burned. Starscream was not a mechanism of easy apologies. The Starscream that Skyfire had known well and intimately, had preferred to tell himself a story on why his choices were the correct ones instead of stooping to an apology.

“… Will you help me?” Starscream prompted him. “Skyfire?”

There were whispers in the back of Skyfire’s helm that sounded like Autobot voices. In the madhouse that was the future, Starscream’s name had become synonymous with betrayal and scheming.

Skyfire scrutinised how he felt, and let it settle in his frame. Despite the anger, the betrayal, and the grief Skyfire refused to believe that Starscream had become that bad. If that meant he had to get burned a second time, then so be it.

“Yes, Starscream. I’ll help you, as much as I’ve ever helped you.” He replied with sincerity. He would have grabbed a hold of Starscream’s hand, had it been solid, and judging from the way Starscream held his hand outstretched, he would not have minded.

“Yes! Yes! I will make you a great figure of power! We will save Cybertron together-…” Starscream’s smile was radiant and triumphant in answer to Skyfire’s reply, until a sudden realisation washed it down. “… I am suddenly reminded of all the previous times you helped me, and I realise that this might not be as much of a triumph as I was thinking.” His voice was not without humour, though it sounded a little more bitter than it should have. “At least half of our cooperative projects were compromises, if not more.”

Skyfire felt a smile for the first time in cycles. “You used to say that you liked my…what did you call it? ‘Loyalty to myself?’ ”

“Stubbornness.” Starscream replied. “Stubbornness was the word I used, I’m fairly sure.”

“My memory is fresher.” Skyfire quipped back. “And you were not much better, especially not when we first started working together! The amount of times you said ‘yes’ to my faceplate and did ‘no’ behind my back… You have gotten back into that habit, haven’t you?”

Starscream flicked a wing dismissively. “I unlearned it once, I’ll unlearn it again. It will help a great deal to know that your preferred method of payback involves pouting rather than petty violence.”

“…. Well. I am sure we’ll be able to find a middle road in what needs to be done.” Skyfire said. He was not thinking of ruling an empire with a spectral Starscream at his side. Rather, he imagined Starscream, back in a functioning body, together with him. If he had to play some politics to keep Cybertron functional enough to make that an option, he would help Starscream.

“Well then.” Starscream said. He sat back and flicked his wings to get comfortable. “You best get something to take notes, because there is actually a lot I need to fill you in on before we can get planning.”

Skyfire grabbed a datapad from the floor, and wiped it clean. He doubted that its info would be useful in the short term. “Lay it on me.”

BREAK

It never quite became clear how Skyfire came to infamy. Sure, mecha can tell you why everyone looks over their shoulder for his spies, or why his advice is more sought after than pre-war vintage Energex, but nobody can tell you how he did it. Mecha that knew him from the war, a handful of Autobots, can only say that he was a withdrawn and quiet mech. More suited for transport and reports than for politics or battle.

He hadn’t been clairvoyant back then, or the Autobots would have won the war before the Quintessons had even begun their invasion plans. He hadn’t been able to predict the motivations and intentions of the other players on the political playing field, nor had he seemed remotely interested. He hadn’t been able to produce top-secret information as a side-thought, or he’d chosen to keep it all to himself.

After Skyfire had been dug from the ice of Earth to partake in the war, he’d taken a short break. For a few decacycles, Skyfire had withdrawn from any and all Cybertronian ongoings. When he came back, he slowly but surely oozed his way to the upper command. Not as an officer or a recognised civilian rank, but as the mech that always seemed to know when to show up, and what to say to who.

The only little flaw about him, was that he talked to someone when he was alone. He argued with a mech nobody could detect, and had an unhealthy interest in inert dolls or unsparked shells. Of course, this meant that any theories about Skyfire’s sudden change in interest and capability were accompanied by a plethora of ghost stories. Odd tellings of old lovers, Unicron’s return, sparkeaters, and other horrors.

So, nobody truly knows how Skyfire senses coups, or how he picks his enemies. All they know is that, no matter how much he argues with a non-excisting voice, he always comes out on top.