#he was like. oh you’re like a little mythical creature tucked away in your corner here

[the-casbah-way]

spotify being like ‘celtic fairy whimsical bagpipe ceilidh cottagecore’ i’m going to fucking kill you

[cbspams]

See? Not scary!

Yet anyways.

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect your from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot.

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Chan laughs, watching you walk off. Maybe he’ll keep you around after he’s slaughtered most of humanity. Tormenting you slowly seems like it’d be fun...

[skzss]

Meeting

Member: Demon!Bang Chan x gender neutral!reader

Warnings: Eeeh, demons? Not really anything in there though

Genre: Slight thriller, slight horror

Word count: 3269

Description: Who’s that in the shadows? Hunting you quietly?

Author’s notes: Long time no see! Why? Because I’m bad at consistency :) Actually this was supposed to be posted Saturday but oops. Also this isn’t really thriller or horror but I don’t know what a genre is and I’m too afraid to ask. Cross posted from another blog I run :)

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect you from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He watches you with interest. Were you perhaps a runaway? Those were common enough in this hour, though usually they were seeking a place to sleep instead of continuing to wander around. You didn’t seem like a runaway though, at least not by the way you kept checking your phone as if waiting for something or someone. 

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot. 

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect you from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He watches you with interest. Were you perhaps a runaway? Those were common enough in this hour, though usually they were seeking a place to sleep instead of continuing to wander around. You didn’t seem like a runaway though, at least not by the way you kept checking your phone as if waiting for something or someone. 

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot. 

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Chan laughs, watching you walk off. Maybe he’ll keep you around after he’s slaughtered most of humanity. Tormenting you slowly seems like it’d be fun...

[beelsnack]

When MC Gives The Obey Me! Boys a Present

Lucifer: The Eldest had always been an early riser. Honestly, he wasn’t fully convinced that this habit hadn’t been the real reason behind his moniker “Morning Star.” Although there was no sun in the Devildom, and therefore no sunrise, he still liked the idea of sitting by the grand window in the living room with a cup of coffee, watching the sky change from inky black to a dusty lavender. He would steal this few precious moments of peace while everyone was still asleep.

Well, almost everyone.

It was common for the human to get up early as well. On occasion, his brothers would keep them up with some ridiculous scheme that tired them out, but almost every morning the human joined Lucifer for coffee. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having them to himself.

“Good morning.” they smiled as they entered the dining room. Their hands were clasped behind their back, and Lucifer regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

“Good morning. And whatever could you be hiding there?”

Suddenly shy, they kept their gaze on the cup of coffee Lucifer had poured for them. “Um, well...uh...” they cleared their throat, bringing their arms to their front to reveal what they were holding.

Lucifer studied the little box curiously. It was plain and black, made of velvet and looked like it came from a high end store. Well, now wasn’t that interesting?

Swallowing, the human pushed it towards him, quickly hiding their expression behind their coffee. “I-It’s for you. I didn’t want to give you it with everyone else around.”

“Oh?” he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. “Don’t tell me you brought me something scandalous.”

“No!” they exclaimed. “Of course not, I just - it would - just open it, will you?”

He chuckled lowly. “As you wish.”

All teasing remarks died on his tongue as he opened the box. Nestled inside was a brooch, a brilliant ruby surrounded by delicate obsidian in a lace-like pattern. The gem caught the light and shone beautifully, and Lucifer was at a loss for words.

“You’ve been so kind to me.” the human’s voice, soft with sincerity, drew his gaze from the brooch. “I wanted to thank you. Asmo dragged me out shopping the other day, and I saw that. I had money left over from working at the bookstore, and I thought...”

They trailed off, flushing nearly as red as the brooch. Gently, Lucifer removed it from it’s box and affixed it to his uniform.

“I like it.” he smiled, catching their hand as they set down their cup. He brought their knuckles to his lips, watching as they squirmed. “I shall wear it with pride.”

Mammon: The human world was an exciting place. It had been a while since he dared to pop up in the mortal realm, afraid that one of the witches would catch wind of his presence and track him down. But the human had been wanting to take a visit to their world for a while, and someone had to make sure they didn’t get themselves mauled.

(Mammon was absolutely weak against the power of the human’s puppy-dog eyes and would probably throw himself into an active volcano if they pouted at him enough.)

After hours of exploring all the nooks and crannies the city had to offer, they eventually wandered into a coffee shop. After ordering their drinks - paid for by the human, of course - they tucked themselves into a table in the corner by the window.

“Man, I’m tired.” Mammon groaned, slumping back in his seat. “Followin’ you around all day is exhausting.”

They laughed. “Sorry. Maybe this will make up for it?”

They reached into the shopping bag at their feet and pulled out two little boxes. After carefully examining each one, they nodded to themselves and placing one of the boxes in front of him.

“What is this?” he tilted his head, picking the box up and shaking it. Something rattled inside.

“A blind box!” they grinned. “Remember those keychains we bought with Satan and Lucifer? These are from the same series, but their little figures. You don’t know what one you get until you open it.”

“Ehhh? Man, you humans are creative little things, aren’t ya?” he looked at the side of the box that had all of his options. “Aw, man, these are all the mythical creatures, aren’t they? Where’d you snag these, anyway? And when?”

“In the game shop, when you were trying to win the demo.”

“Hey, no one told me it wasn’t winnable, a’ight?”

The human shrugged. “Whatever. The sign for these things said ‘test your luck,’ and it reminded me of you, so I bought them.”

Mammon always did love a gamble. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s crack these bad boys open!”

Mammon basically tore the box apart. He ripped open the little plastic bag and a small plastic figure of a dragon tumbled out. It was even breathing fire!

“Hey, check out what I got! Betcha it’s cooler than yours, huh?”

When he looked up, the human was holding the exact same figure.

“Looks like we got our matching things after all!”

He felt his cheeks heat up, and he might have laughed just a bit too loud as he straightened up. “Look at that! How about it, human? Do you feel honored to be matching the Great Mammon?”

The bright grin they sent his way made his heart flutter a little bit. “Of course. I have to match with my first man, don’t I?”

Levi: He kept checking the time on his D.D.D. The stream was going to start any minute! Maybe they decided that didn’t want to watch it with him after all? Maybe they had just been screwing with him in the first place. They probably - 

KNOCK KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK KNOCK

“Levi, it’s me!”

He sat in surprise for a moment before he realized that he had to actually let them in. He scrambled over to the door, squaring his shoulders and taking a few deep breaths to try and appear cool before he opened the door.

“Where were you? The stream’s starting soon!”

“Sorry, sorry!” the followed him into his room, kicking the door shut behind them. “I couldn’t remember where I put it, I was tearing apart my room looking for it, of course it was in my desk drawer - “

“What are you talking about?” the human had a tendency to babble if left unchecked. Now that his heart rate had returned to normal, Levi noticed the thin piece of cardboard that they were holding.

“Oh, right, sorry!” Levi really wanted the human to stop apologizing for everything, but didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick.

They held up the mystery item for Levi to see. “Last time I was in the human world, I picked these up! They’re cool, right?”

Attached to the cardboard were two black-corded wrap-around bracelets. Both were decorated with a pixelated heart, one saying “Player One,” the other saying “Player Two.”

Well, so much for a normal heart rate.

“I - you - what - a-are you sure you want to wear something like this. With - with me?”

Levi didn’t want to think about how soft and kind the human’s face looked when they took back the cardboard and began taking the bracelets off. They remained silent as they handed the Player One bracelet to him. His hands were shaking as they dropped it in his palm.

“I don’t want to wear it with anyone else.”

Satan: No matter what he did, Satan always ended up losing his bookmarks. They got lost in books that he had forgotten he had, accidentally thrown away when he cleaned off his desk, he definitely saw a cat steal one and just couldn’t bring himself to take their new toy from them. Every time he turned around, a bookmark had gone missing. 

He was in the middle of searching for one - he absolutely refused to dog-ear the pages, he might as well rip the page out - when he heard the door to his room open. “Satan? Are you in here?”

He couldn’t help the small smile. The human was probably the only one in the house he didn’t want to punch in the face. “Up here.” he called.

The human began climbing the spiral staircase that led up to his bedroom proper. He still couldn’t find a bookmark, so he was forced to turn the small paperback over and rest it on the desk. He could practically hear the spine breaking and wanted to cringe.

“What’s up? I thought you were going shopping today.”

“I already did.” they were holding a small bag in there hands. “I couldn’t really find anything I liked, no matter what Asmo made me try on. But! I found something for you!”

Satan blinked as they handed him the bag. “Really? For me?”

“Mhm!” they looked quite pleased with themself. “Go on, open it!”

He reached into the bag and plucked out it’s contents. “A...what is this?”

It was made out of metal, shaped like a dagger with a green stone (there was no way it was real emerald) decorated the hilt. He moved it around in his hand, and felt it bend. It was a similar shape to a paperclip.

“It’s a bookmark.” the human grinned. “It clips onto the page, and the top part here sticks out so you don’t forget you have it in there! It’s just something litle, but I remembered you complaining about how you’re bookmarks always disappear, so..yeah.”

They lost a little bit of steam when Satan just continued to stare at them. “...You don’t like it?”

“Of course I like it.” he replied. “I’m just shocked you remembered something trivial I said weeks ago.”

Expression turning sheepish, they shrugged. “I guess I just have a good memory.”

Satan hummed, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “That you do. Thank you.”

Asmo: The best part of taking a long, luxurious bath was putting on his favorite bathrobe. It was soft and fluffy and felt like a cloud against his skin. And it always sent a little shiver up his spine as it was sliding off to reveal - 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Ugh. Someone always had to interrupt, didn’t they? His beauty routine was terribly intricate, and there would be hell to pay if he broke out.

“Asmo? Can I come in?”

...Okay, this was an acceptable interruption.

“Of course, darling, door’s open!” he briefly contemplated leaving his robe untied before deciding against it. Undressing was part of the fun.

The human stepped into his room, arms laden with shopping bags.”I wanted to show you what I got!”

“Ooh, yes!” he beamed. “Show me, show me!”

They set their bags down on the bed, digging through the bags to decide what to show him first. Asmo sat at his vanity, watching them search. They’re eyes lit up like jewels when they found what they were looking for.

“Ta-da!” they produced a length of dark magenta fabric. It looked soft, and caught the light in a way that made it shimmer. A silk scarf.

“Oh, isn’t that lovely?” he crooned, standing up to run his fingers delicately over it. “And so soft, too! What a find, darling!”

“So you like it?” the human asked. Asmo hummed, nodding. He couldn’t stop feeling the scarf. Silk always felt good against the skin ~

“Good! Because I bought it for you.”

He paused mid-stroke, bringing his eyes up to look at them. “Eh?”

“I saw it at the store,” they placed the delicate fabric fully in Asmo’s hands. “And I thought that the color would look sooo good on you. It was the last one, too, so I snatched it up.”

“Oh, aren’t you a treasure!” he wrapped his arms around the human and damn near squeezed the life out of them. “You know me so well! But, you know...”

He slipped the scarf around their waist and used it to pull them flush against him. 

“I can think of a couple different uses for silk.”

Beelzebub: There would be a world of trouble if they got caught. But you wouldn’t know that at all just by watching the human. They hummed to themself as they mixed the ingredients, like this was normal cooking duty instead of an emergency late-night food run.

Beel felt kind of bad. Not only did he ruin their bedroom over custard, he woke them up in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare. And instead of being angry with him like they should be, they offered to make him cake.

“You don’t have to. You can go back to bed.” he mumbled. Despite the cheerful expression they wore, he could tell they were tired. 

They turned around, pointing their spoon at him accusingly. “No, I can’t. I just put the cake in the oven.

“But...”

“Besides,” they shrugged, turning around to put the dishes in the sink. “I’ve been wanting to try out a new recipe for a while. What better way to shake of a nightmare than taste-testing, right?”

Beel had never heard that one before, but he wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he just folded his arms on the table and rested his head on top of them, watching the human work. “Can we call this nightmare cake?”

“No, that sounds like it’ll taste bad.”

“I’m calling it nightmare cake.”

They wrinkled their nose at him, and he couldn’t resist reaching out and giving them a little nose boop.

“Thanks. I’ll bet this is going to be better than any store bought cake.”

Belphegor: Honestly, he was trying to do his assignments. He had actually missed going to classes while he had been locked in the attic, and he was already on thin ice with Diavolo. But he was so sleepy...

A knock at his door jolted him awake. Damn, he dozed off again.

“Yeah?” he called, rubbing at his eye.

“Can I come in?” 

Oh. The human. “Yeah, door’s open.”

They stepped into the room and immediately zeroed in on him. “Did you fall asleep on your homework again?”

He lolled his head back without turning around in his desk chair to look at them upside down. “No.”

“Then why do you have ink on your cheek?”

“It’s a fashion statement.”

They raised an eyebrow. “What are you supposed to be stating?”

“...That I fell asleep while doing homework.”

Belphie didn’t want to admit how much he liked the human’s laugh. So, he focused on something else. “What do you have there?”

“Oh!” apparently, they had forgotten what they were holding. “There was one of those crane games at the arcade, and I won this!”

Belphie straightened up and turned around. They were holding a plush toy shaped like a black ram. It was kind of cute.

“It kind of reminded me of you, so here!” they held it out to him, but he only looked at them quizzically.

“Why did it remind you of me?”

“The horns, mostly.”

Upon closer inspection, those did look like his horns. “Huh. Yeah, okay, I see it.”

The human thrust the plushie out again, and this time, he took it. It was really soft and cuddly. He could definitely imagine falling asleep with this. But...

“Hey!” the human yelped as Belphie stood and shoved the plushie in their face. “If you don’t like it you can just say so!”

“I want it to smell like you.” he drawled. “So I can think about you before I go to sleep.”

“So you try to suffocate me with it?!”

Truthfully, Belphie just didn’t want them to see him blush when he muttered, “Thanks for the gift. I really like it.”

[loganscanons]

Unfinished Business - ch. 1, pt. 1

Summary: Makani begins her quest to pay some debts and favors, beginning by visiting a former friend.

Chapters: Next

A small bell jingles above Makani as she pushes open the door to the deli, and she’s greeted with spiced, refrigerated air. The shop is small and chilled, with a deli display on the left, and the register counter to her right. At the register, a man of average height emphatically talks to a customer, his expressive hands punctuating each word. He’s handsome, middle-aged, his dark hair striped with streaks of gray. Stubble darkens his cheeks and the sharp angles of his jaw. His mustache is thick and perfectly groomed, and his blue eyes are bright and clear. When the tinkling bell announce Makani’s entrance, the man’s attention is pulled to the door, and though she’s three meters away, she can see his eyes light up. He turns back to the customer in front of him, hands the man a packed paper bag, then wishes him a good day in two languages. Makani steps to the side to let the customer pass her, the bell tinkling again as he leaves.

“Ah, Makani!” the cashier says, a smile taking up most of his face.

He walks around the counter, spreading his arms wide. Makani allows him to grip her shoulders and kiss each cheek. He smells of aftershave, and his stubble is rough against her skin.

“Ioannis,” she says. “It’s good to see you.”

“It has been too long, Makani!” Ioannis says. The man is a walking exclamation point, with each sentence he speaks full of passion. “I thought maybe you have forgot us.”

“Impossible,” Makani says. She gives him a friendly smile and looks at him through dark eyelashes.

“You must come upstairs,” he says. His blue eyes are wide, and his smile reaches from ear to ear. “Ismena love to see you.”

“I really shouldn’t,” she says deferentially. “I have a list of errands to run today.” While that’s not untrue and she does have plenty of errands to run, that’s not why she declines the offer. She knows Ioannis expects her to politely decline at least once before accepting.

“Ah, but you must! I insist,” Ioannis says.

“Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble? I don’t want to bother Ismena or Eleni,” she says.

In truth, Makani doesn’t care whether or not an unexpected visit is a bother. Other people’s time has little importance to her. But her relationship with the Karagiannis family is one she wishes to maintain, and that means pretending like she cares and following social conventions.

“No, no,” he says. “No trouble! You are always welcome.” He pats her shoulder affectionately, then raises his voice to the young man standing behind the deli display, where the sandwiches and meats of the day’s menu sit behind a pane of glass. He says something in Greek, and the young man nods.

“Come, Ismena is home. Eleni will be home soon. They love to see you,” he says.

“You flatter me, Ioannis,” she says. Ioannis begins to direct her to the door at the back of the store, but before he can take more than three steps, she interrupts and says, “But first, I’d like to buy a few things.”

“Ah, of course, of course!” he says. He puts his hand on her upper arm, and his tone and expression turn comically serious, “What do you need? Anything for you.”

“A lot of lamb,” she says. “Oh, and do you have any goat meat?”

“Goat meat? No,” he says. His tone is despondent, as if he’s committed the greatest offense by not having what she wants. “No goat meat.” Then, his eyes light up again, “I know a place has goat meat. I can special order for you!”

“No, that’s alright,” she says, giving him the warmest smile that she can muster. “Thank you, though.”

“But lamb! We have lamb. How much lamb?” he asks.

“How much do you have? I was hoping for fifty to sixty pounds, if possible.”

Ioannis’s eyes widen, his brows jumping up his forehead, and he says, “That is a lot of lamb! Normally, we do not sell so much to one person without special order. But anything for you, Makani! You have a party?”

“Yes,” she says. The lie slides off her tongue with ease. “My friend is hosting an event and her caterer backed out last minute. I told her I might be able to get a large order of lamb for her.”

“Ah, too bad, too bad,” Ioannis says. His dark brows lower, shadowing his eyes as he shakes his head. “Do you need help cooking all the lamb? I am sure Ismena and Eleni be happy to help.”

“No,” she says with a smile. “Fortunately, she has a few chef friends who are willing to help out. I appreciate the offer, though, Ioannis.”

Ioannis beams, “Of course! Anything for the lovely Makani. Come, you can say hello to Ismena while I get your order ready. Come, come.”

Again, he directs her to the back of the store, and this time she follows without interruption. Past the register and deli display, the remaining two-thirds of the store is packed with Greek and Mediterranean snacks, spices, sauces, and breads. One wall is taken up by freezers packed with plastic-wrapped meat. They pass the shelves and freezers, through a black door tucked in the corner. The door leads to a storage area with several more doors. Makani has been back here several times, when Ismena still looked at her with affection, and she knows without Ioannis’s directions to pass through a door on their left, which leads to a small hallway with a narrow staircase on the left and a door leading outside on the right. She follows him up the stairs to a landing with a single apartment door.

As he unlocks the door, he calls out, “Ismena, we have a visitor!”

The apartment door opens to a dining area, where a young woman sits at a wooden kitchen table, painted white. The space is cramped, the table less than a meter away from the door. Beyond the table is the kitchen, with light brown countertops and chestnut cabinets. The walls are lined with utensils and appliances that don’t fit in the cabinets. Makani knows the cabinets are packed to the brim with spices, food, and dishware.

The young woman at the table sits with a notebook in front of her, a black pen in her hand. As the door swings open, she looks up and her eyes alight on Ioannis and Makani standing in the threshold. She has the same clear blue eyes as her father, with thick dark lashes and strong, expressive brows. Her face is softer, rounder than Ioannis’s, though not as warm and inviting. Where Ioannis’s features invite friendly conversation, hers are closed off and critical. There’s something about her penetrative gaze and the sharp curves of her lips that suggests she knows things she shouldn’t. That she sees right through you. That she’s up to something.

She gives a sharp smile and says, “Makani, what a pleasant surprise.” Her voice is rich and warm, but there’s a sardonic lilt. Her father doesn’t notice.

“Ismena,” Makani says, matching her tone. Polite, but with a touch of mockery. “It’s been a while.”

Ismena quirks an eyebrow, her smile unwavering, and Makani knows what she’s thinking. Not long enough.

Playing the role of a good hostess, she stands. As she rounds the table, her white cotton maxi dress flutters against her ankles, and she holds her arms out, making the bracelets on her wrist jangle against each other. Makani walks into the hug, keeping her touch light and formal. There’s no warmth in the hug from Ismena. Both women are acting for the sake of the man in the doorway.

Ioannis is beaming. “I will let you two girls talk,” he says. “Your order will soon be ready, Makani.” He says something in Greek to his daughter, then chirps to both of them, “Have fun!”

Ismena’s closed, angled smile doesn’t drop as her father closes the door behind him. His soft footfalls fade down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” she asks. She’s curious and wary, but not unkind.  

“I need a lot of lamb meat on short notice,” Makani answers. As Ismena returns to her chair, Makani pulls out one of the white wooden kitchen chairs and settles on the yellow cushion and rests her arms on the table.

“Ah, yes, Dad said you were helping out with a party.” Ismena asks, “Do you want anything? Water? Tea? I’m going to make myself a cup of tea.”

“Sure, I’ll have some tea,” Makani says.

Behind Ismena, the stove clicks on, blue fire igniting beneath a yellow tea kettle. She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms over her chest. Her gaze is piercing, scrutinizing. Makani has never felt afraid the way most people do, but even she can understand why Ismena’s gaze would make people squirm. Ismena looks at the world like she already knows it’s darkest secrets, like she’s already passed judgment and decided the world is guilty.

“So, why do you really need a lot of lamb meat on short notice?” she asks, arching a dark brow.

“A party,” Makani says, a smile sliding over her lips. Ismena won’t believe her. She’s not as clueless as he father.

“Uh-huh,” Ismena says. She leans forward and rests her arms on the table, still crossed. “But, what’s the real reason?”

“I need some information,” she answers. “There’s a troll near the city that will exchange information for meat or valuables. She prefers goat meat, but that’s a little harder to come by than lamb,”  

“A troll?” Ismena repeats.

Makani nods.

Her tone is neither angry nor reprimanding when she comments, “Dad wouldn’t be happy to know you’re giving quality lamb meat to a troll.”

Though her experience with the magical creatures of Chicago is limited, Ismena isn’t surprised that a troll lives nearby, nor is she surprised that Makani knows where to find them. Even before she knew that magic was as real and pervasive as the concrete sidewalks of the city, Chicago had been a hotbed of fantastical activity and creatures that she’d never expected to find outside of books. Becoming a witch hadn’t compelled her to acquaint herself with the creatures she’d once thought to be mythical, but she knows they’re there. She prefers to stay out of business that isn’t hers, but Makani has never been so courteous.

“That’s why I didn’t tell him,” Makani says, and they both know Ismena won’t tell him either.

The feelings between them are messy and complicated, especially on Ismena’s end. She’s made one thing clear: there’s no room for friendship anymore. Their relationship is one of mutual respect, but not closeness. The embers of their friendship have long gone out. Despite that, Makani trusts her more than she trusts most. Their relationship began with Ismena putting her trust in Makani, and though Ismena’s since learned better, Makani still trusts her.

[milomeepit]

Diamond In The Rough: Chapter Two

Roman has always wanted better. Has always believed that there’s a better life, a better world, just out of reach. Just beyond the veil of shitty teachers who don’t care, angry classmates that scream insults and slurs at each other all day, and drug-hazed parents who are more concerned with their next hit than looking after their ten year old son.

When he runs away after a particularly bad night at home and finds a quiet little cafe/bookstore tucked away in a back alley of the city, the sweet couple who run the joint (an odd pair; a quiet, gloomy man with a wry sense of humour and a cynical gleam in his eye, and a bouncy man who smiles like sunshine and laughs like a storybook king) help show him that maybe- just maybe- he really can have the life he always dreamed of.

Masterpost  (to be linked soon!)

Word Count: 2570

Chapter Warnings: Food, stranger danger, fake names, daydreaming as a coping mechanism

Roman continued to go to the cafe over the next few weeks. He was apprehensive about touching the books, in case he was meant to pay, but it turned out that the owners encouraged everyone to read and enjoy the provided material. And, as he found, there was a lot of it. 

There were books about science, and magic, and jokes, and food, and monsters, and angels. Every subject Roman could imagine lined the shelves, thousands of books with different colours and shapes and sizes. Cartoons and diagrams and newspapers and studies, all clustered in loosely-sorted shelves and sections. It was like heaven.

He trailed his fingers along a shelf, mouthing titles to himself as he tried to pick out a story to read that day. His eyes landed on a forest green copy of Peter Pan, and he smiled a little to himself as he slid it gently from the shelf. He tucked it under his arm, making his way back towards his normal armchair with a spring in his step.

Turning the corner, he paused. The taller man was busily arranging the pillows on the armchair, plumping them up and folding the blanket to rest over the back of the chair. Roman took a step back, bumping into the corner of the bookcase.

The man looked up towards the noise, locking eyes with him and raising a curious eyebrow. Roman was transfixed by his eyes; bright green and a deep purple. Was he a sorcerer? Maybe a faerie of some kind. Or a shapeshifter! Roman held his breath, half afraid it might be stolen by this unearthly figure.

“Oh, hey, it’s you,” The man straightened, flashing a wry smile. “Come in to curl up with some more fairy tales, kid?”

Roman blinked, his arms tightening protectively around the book cradled in his arms. “Y-yeah,” He replied hesitantly. “How did you know?”

The man laughed, leaning against the arm of the chair and crossing his arms. “I notice everyone coming in and out of this place, trust me. What’s your name, anyway, short stuff?”

Roman’s mind whirled. This man was a human man who was a stranger, or he was some kind of mythical creature prying for his name. Either way, Roman knew enough to not give out his real name. “Um... it’s Peter.”

The man paused, tilting his head and looking Roman up and down. Roman held his breath again, the close inspection setting his heart pounding. “Hey, did you want, like, a muffin or anything? You’re skinnier than a London kid from a Charles Dickens novel.” He said finally, gesturing vaguely towards the counter of the cafe.

“I’m, uh-” Roman’s stomach growled at the tempting prospect of food, and he winced. “... Yes, please, that would be lovely.”

The man pushed himself away from the chair and walked past. “Let’s go, then, Pete.” Roman followed him out of the winding stacks and towards the counter, where the other man was pottering around making cups of coffee and icing cupcakes.

Roman slid into a chair at a table near the counter, awkwardly clasping his hands in his lap as he looked around the cafe, trying to not make eye contact with anyone. He didn’t belong here, he already knew that. One look at him, and they probably would, too.

“Virgil, by the way.” Roman looked back to the tall man as he set down a glass of juice and a muffin on a small plate. “I mean, my name. I’m Virgil.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Virgil,” Roman replied shyly, ducking his head. The sweet smell of chocolate caught his attention, and he inspected the muffin, his eyes widening as he saw the large white chocolate chips and raspberries speckled across the top. “Oh... wow. Thank you so much!”

“No problem. Patton bakes a ton, so we always end up with leftovers. We won’t miss it,” Virgil chuckled affectionately as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the other man. “He’s got a heck of a sweet tooth.”

Roman craned his neck to peer at Patton, who smiled brightly and waved. He raised a hand, hesitantly returning the wave before returning his attention to the food. His stomach growled again, more insistently, and he rolled his eyes. Yeah, yeah, okay. Food time, I get it.

He picked a piece off of the muffin, carefully popping it into his mouth and almost whimpering at the wonderful taste. This Patton fellow was a good baker, that was for sure. It didn’t take long for him to scarf down the muffin, washing it down with large gulps of juice, and he sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

“... Well, somebody was hungry.” He looked up to meet Virgil’s astounded gaze. “Did you... did you want anything else?”

“I don’t have any money,” Roman blushed, ducking his head. “I-I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Kid, seriously, there’s a mountain of ‘em,” Virgil insisted. “Come on, you can pick out a couple things, have whatever you want. On the house.”

Roman followed him over to the counter, picking out another muffin and a piece of pie before returning to the table. “Thanks again,” He said softly before digging into the food. 

As he ate, he watched Virgil slip behind the counter, wrapping his arms around Patton and burying his face into the shorter’s unruly curls. Patton giggled, turning around in Virgil’s arms to stretch up on tiptoe and kiss him. Roman grinned. They were really sweet. Every time that he’d come in, he’d noticed them kissing each other’s cheeks and squeezing each other’s hands in passing over the course of the day. Like a couple out of a movie, or a romance novel.

Virgil’s hands traced lazily up and down Patton’s back as they spoke quietly, finally settling on his shoulders and squeezing lightly before they pulled apart. Virgil picked up the piping bag and took over icing the cupcakes, while Patton made his way over to Roman and sat down, beaming.

“Hey, there, cutie pie!” He beamed, propping his chin up in his hands. “How’s it going?”

Roman returned the smile hesitantly. “Um, good. Thank you so much for the food, you really didn’t have to-”

“Aw, shucks! Of course! It’s not like we’re gonna do much with it. I mean, the healthier stuff like the little quiches, we can put in an ice box and drop off at the homeless shelter tonight, but they don’t like taking junk food like the donuts and stuff, so! May as well make sure they get a home in someone’s belly instead of in the trash, right?” Patton shrugged, grinning. “Besides, seeing people enjoying what I make is more important to me than getting heaps of money.”

Roman nodded. “So, um, do you guys own this place, or just work here?” He asked, taking another look around the warm, cozy space. 

“We own it! It used to be an apartment, but Virgil and I did some renovations a couple of years ago, and it’s been our little slice of heaven ever since!” Patton glanced at Virgil, then back to Roman. “I’m guessing you like fantasy stories, dontcha, Peter?”

“Yeah!” Roman perked up, looking towards the book he’d set on the table. “I really love fairy tales. They’re so warm, and nice, and sweet, and kind, and the heroes always get what they’re dreaming about. Even if they have to go through some nasty things to get there... they always get their happily ever after. You know?”

Patton nodded, clearly excited. “I do! I like stories with happy endings, too.” He brightened suddenly, clapping his hands together. “You know, we could read together sometime! That’d be fun, right?”

Roman giggled, caught off guard by the man’s infectious positivity. “That sounds nice!” He agreed.

“Well, if you wanna finish up your food, we can crack open this copy of- oh, hah!” Patton burst into laughter. “Peter Pan! Well, that’s practically perfect, dontcha think, Pete?”

Roman blushed a little. “Y-yeah! That’s why I like it so much,” He lied. “Because of the name.”

“Well, if you wanna finish eating, I’ll go find us a nice cozy spot to curl up and read. I know the perfect place!” Patton declared confidently, hopping to his feet. “I’ll come back and get you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman agreed, digging into the food again. As Patton vanished among the shelves, a smile crept onto his face. Why had he been frightened of these two? They were just as sweet as they appeared!

He could really get used to sitting here, the toes of his worn sneakers just grazing the floor as he swung his legs back and forth, the gentle music playing in the background light and whimsical, the warm smells of homemade food wrapping around him and leaving him in a cozy, contented haze. Reading stories and eating the delicious treats with Patton and Virgil sounded.... Perfect.

He wondered what their home was like. He imagined it much like the cafe; a little haphazard, with mismatched furniture picked up from garage sales and thrift stores. He could picture Patton curled up on a couch with threadbare seams lovingly mended, knitting scarves for the steadily cooling winter weather, half watching a movie on the TV; Virgil settling down next to him and placing cups of hot cocoa, topped with cream and marshmallows, on the coffee table. Leaning over to peck Patton on the lips. Patton curling into Virgil’s arms, tugging the afghan blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around them. The two of them sitting up as Roman ran into the room, chattering away. Virgil’s small but sincere smile as Patton held out his arms for Roman to jump into-

No.

He stabbed a chunk of pie viciously, as if driving the fork into the heart of the daydream to kill it. He couldn’t afford to have flights of fancy like this. You barely know these people. They wouldn’t want you, anyway, he told himself. They could have kids of their own, or not enough space, or not like kids- although, the last one seemed unlikely considering how bright Patton’s smile was as he scampered across the room back towards him.

“Peter! Peter, you ready?” He squealed, bouncing on his toes with excitement.

Roman quickly shoveled the last few bites of pie into his mouth and nodded. “Mm-hm! Jus’ lemmie-” He jumped off the chair, turning to grab the plates and take them back over to the counter.

Virgil appeared from behind him, smoothly sliding the dishes from his grasp and ruffling his hair affectionately. “Don’t worry about it, kid, I got ‘em.” He winked. “You go hang out with Pat for a while, huh?”

“Oh, okay,” Roman looked up at him, a little surprised. “Thanks!”

With that, he scurried into the shelves, following Patton through the winding labyrinth of rustling paper and shining wood. They turned this way and that, and Roman very quickly became disoriented by the winding pathway. Surely the cafe wasn’t this large? Though, Patton had said it was an apartment, so perhaps it was. 

They eventually came to a small opening between two bookcases, and Patton stepped back and waved for Roman to enter first, his eyes sparkling with a kind of magic that Roman adored. “Go on,” He nodded encouragingly.

Roman cautiously squeezed between the shelves, and his eyes widened. In this corner of the cafe, in the opposite corner from the counter and the dining area, far away from the busier sections of the shelves, there was a small sheltered alcove, barely bigger than a large double bed. The floor was lined with pillows and blankets, and plush animals were littered around the edges, soft and smooth and inviting. A small, dim wall lamp cast a gentle glow over the cozy nook, just bright enough to see by.

“... This is amazing,” Roman whispered, looking around the space. “Was this always here?”

“Yuppers! It’s my favourite spot in the whoooole cafe! Well, aside from elbow deep in a bowl of brownie batter.” Patton giggled, squeezing past Roman and settling down into the nest. He dug amongst the pillows for a moment before pulling out the book. “There we go! Lost track of it while I was rearranging stuff before, heh.”

He shifted again, moving to the side and patting the pillows next to him. “Come on in, get cozy! Nothing better than a comfy blanket fort to read in, right?”

“Yeah...” Roman sat down next to Patton, his knee not quite touching the other’s, and peered at the book as he cracked it open.

“Ready?” Patton asked. When Roman nodded, he cleared his throat and began reading.

“All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this.”

Roman blinked, looking between the pages and Patton’s face. The man’s usually rather chipper and somewhat squeaky voice dropped sharply into smooth baritone as he read. Roman inched closer, entranced by Patton’s enchanting storyteller voice.

“One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, “Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!” This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.”

Well, that hit close to home. Some of Roman’s very earliest memories with his family were good, he was certain of it. There was a time when everything was warm and good and happy, and those misty, unfocused memories warmed him to his toes when he dared peek back towards his past. Look too long, though, and they quickly soured, into choking ash and clattering bottles and men arguing with his parents downstairs when he was supposed to be asleep.

“Of course they lived at 14- their house number on their street- and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth.” Patton continued, the faint rustle as he turned the page punctuating his sentence neatly.

All Roman could think of was Virgil. The dry humour he had seen the man exchanging with patrons, the gentle warmth in his eyes when he had seen Roman that morning, the soft, sweet touches with Patton.

“Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.”

Roman hummed softly, leaning against Patton as he closed his eyes, allowing the image of Virgil smirking to slip into his mind. Virgil ruffling his hair again, and leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. He could easily picture Patton dotting kisses across his cheeks... booping his nose... wrapping him up in strong arms, pulling him close to a warm chest, where he could curl up and be safe and warm and loved.

Even just for a little while.

[paws-and-claws-au]

Prologue: Two Sides, One Coin

Prologue, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4

Summary: In a kingdom where practicing magic is outlawed and mythical creatures are being hunted, one boy is caught in the crossfire between the two sides of the fight. Only an act of pure, selfless love will lift his curse and return his life to normal...but who could ever love a monster like him?

Warnings: Mentions of minor character death, knives, curses (the magical kind), parental neglect, body transformation, sadness/crying, Morally Grey Deceit. 

Pairings: Royality and Analogical 

Word Count: 3,061

AU Creator: @thegremlinprince 

Fic Author: @ironwoman359

Available on AO3 here

Song for this chapter: Waiting for Love - Avicii

––––––––––––

If you were to ask Desmond, he would say his actions were perfectly justified. Cruel? Perhaps. But thanks to the King’s decree that all magical creatures in the land were to be hunted down and exterminated, the Belmont couple had exacted plenty of cruelty of their own. As far as Desmond was concerned, they deserved everything they had coming to them.

Remy, of course, didn’t agree, but he and Remy had agreed on so little since they’d been forced into hiding alongside the rest of the magical community that Desmond found he didn’t really care. Not that that stopped his old friend from trying to talk him out of his plans.

“Des… I know you’re angry. But this… don’t you think it’s a bit extreme?”

Desmond clenched his hands into fists, making no move to take the hot beverage he was handed in the secluded witch’s cottage.

“Yes, Remington, it is extreme,” he huffed. “That’s rather the point of the gesture as a whole, you see. After all, isn’t hunting down every magical creature and slaughtering them regardless of whether they are an actual danger to humans a bit extreme as well?”

Remy sighed, and fiddled with the handle of his own mug.

“I mean, of course it is, but–”

“But nothing!” Desmond growled, his eyes growing dark. “Joan is dead, Remy! They died right in front of me, because those damn hunters didn’t see a person, all they could see was a dragon. Nothing but a horrible beast that needed to be destroyed.” He grit his teeth as his hands shook with anger. “I’m going to show those bastards exactly how wrong they are.”

“Des–”

Desmond stood before Remy could say any more and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.

“We’ve suffered too much at their hands, Remy. I won’t let it go unpunished anymore. I won’t let Joan’s death mean nothing to them. They’re going to pay.”

––––

Dear King James,

While we regret to inform you that our mission to slay the Dragon Witch was once again unsuccessful, we have not returned from the forest in total defeat. The witch’s familiar is dead; one less dragon plagues our skies. In this hunt we also have vanquished a manticore, taken out several members of a pack of werewolves, and successfully destroyed a fairy circle. The explosives that you provided also proved effective in disposing of the jackalope den discovered at the edge of Black Oak Ridge. We will send another report after our next hunt.

Your faithful servants,

Gareth and Cadence Belmont.

Gareth nodded to himself as he looked over the letter, then slid the parchment into an envelope. As he sealed it with a few drops of wax, his wife came up behind him and placed a bowl of stew on his desk, and he grunted appreciatively.

“Has Patton gone to bed yet?” he asked as he began to eat.

“He asked for you to come tell him a story about five times, but I told him you were busy and would do it tomorrow,” Cadence answered, and Gareth chuckled.

“Alright, I’ll make sure tomorrow’s story is extra special.”

Cadence laughed, and tucked her chin over his shoulder.

“That’s a pretty tall order, coming from you. What are you gonna tell him?”

“Hmmm…” Gareth pretended to think. “How about the daring tale of how mommy and daddy slayed a terrible dragon and saved their village?”

“I like it,” Cadence replied, before giving her husband a peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna check on him one more time, then I’m heading to bed. And you should do the same,” she added, nudging him with her elbow. “We just got home. No more late nights for now.”

“Oh, alright,” Gareth agreed with a good-natured sigh. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

He turned back to the stack of papers on his desk, mostly reports of monster sightings in the nearby areas that they were going to tackle next. He and his wife had been working for the King just shy of a year, and were quickly developing the reputation of the best monster hunters in the kingdom. He smiled to himself at the thought. If he and Cadence kept this rate of success going, their son would be able to grow up in a world completely free of the dreadful creatures that lurked in the forests.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream came from the bedroom, and Gareth’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Cadence.

He drew his dagger from his belt, not his strongest weapon by far, but what was closest on hand, and rushed towards his wife.

Gareth burst into the bedroom to find Cadence pressed against the wall with a knife to her throat. Wielding the knife was the being who was without a doubt their worst enemy.

“Dragon Witch,” he growled, stepping forward, but the witch pressed the dagger closer to Cadence’s throat.

“I would not come closer,” the witch hissed. “Or you may find your child motherless.”

Gareth froze, but he did not let go of his dagger, gripping the handle as tightly as he could.

“You dare to come here,” he spat through gritted teeth. “You come into this home, you threaten this family–”

“You have come into our homes!” the Dragon Witch interrupted, his voice venomous. “You have threatened our families, torn down our places of safety, decimated our lives. You have allowed yourself to be deceived, have allowed fear and hatred consume your life. And you have been praised for it.” The witch’s face was twisted with grief. “You have taken everything we love and brought it to ruin, and your people hail you as heroes! I say no more.”

The witch closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and when he opened them again, they were glowing yellow with power.

“You leave destruction in your wake, Our homes you burn, our lives you take. You’ve ravaged all that we hold dear,  So now you must confront your fear.

Now upon you this curse I place,  Your greatest fear you now shall face.  For the magic seal to break,  You must truly love the thing you hate.”

The Dragon Witch shoved Cadence towards Gareth, and as he rushed to catch her a puff of yellow smoke exploded where the witch had been, and in an instant he was gone.

“Cadence!” Gareth cried as he held his wife. “Are you alright? Did he–”

“No… no, he didn’t hurt me,” she gasped. “What… what did that mean? What he said?”

“I believe it was a spell…” Gareth said, frowning. “Though I must admit, I have no idea what the meaning could be.”

“I have a feeling that we’ll find out very soon,” Cadence said with a grimace.

Gareth opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get out a word, the sound of crying came from the other room, and the two froze.

––––

When Patton was a small child, his mother and father had him pack everything he owned into a trunk and hired a carriage to the countryside. They rode in silence most of the trip, his parents occasionally sending each other glances over his head they thought he didn’t see. At the end of their journey, they pull up in front of an old fortress in the countryside that Patton remembered hearing his parents talk about before, in hushed tones. They spoke in hushed tones around him a lot, but he was sure it was just because there were a lot of grownup things they had to talk about, that they didn’t want him to worry about.  

His mother and father had carefully helped him bring his trunk up to the tallest, biggest tower of the fortress, which had a few simple furnishings set up around the room. They’d carefully explained to him that he’d be living here now so that he’d have more room for his...outbursts, and that he’d be there until they could find a “better way to help you.” They showed him the pulley system that would bring him food and explained that he mustn't eat everything at once, because more food would only arrive every two weeks. Then they’d given him a pat on the shoulder, a kiss on the head, and left, locking the tower door from the outside.

Patton had happily unpacked his toys and set about exploring the nooks and crannies of the room. He hadn’t been worried at the time. His mommy and daddy were the smartest people in the world! They’d figure something out soon and he’d be back home; in the meantime, it was like he was on some sort of adventure! It would be fun!

Patton couldn’t remember when he stopped believing that. But when one month, after years and years of no contact and constant, aching loneliness, food didn’t arrive on schedule for two whole cycles, he found that he wasn’t even that surprised.

That somehow hurt more than anything, that he wasn’t even shocked at being completely abandoned. He’d known...he’d always known, really, that that’s what they’d done. Why deal with your cursed child when you could just lock them away in a tower so they wouldn’t be in the way?

Hot, bitter tears began to fall down his cheeks, and as they did, he felt his body begin to change.

He had grown accustomed to the sensation over the years, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. His limbs bulged and his back arched, tough leathery wings popping out and spreading across the room. His soft smooth skin grew white and blue scales, and his teeth elongated into fangs while his jaw stretched. The tears that slid from his eyes were hot and steaming, dropping the ground with a slight *hiss* as Patton, now a large, shimmering dragon, curled up in the corner of the tower to cry.

That was how the Dragon Witch found him. 

“Patton Belmont.”

At first, Patton was so startled at hearing another person’s voice that he snarled, but the man in the black cloak seemed unperturbed by the outburst. In fact, he was smiling a slightly sad, wistful smile as he took in Patton’s appearance.

“Patton Belmont…” he repeated, eyeing Patton up and down. “My, how you’ve grown.”

“Who...who are you?” Patton asked warily, pressing his back up against the wall and curling his tail around himself. 

“My name is Desmond Atwood,” the man said, lowering his hood, and Patton was startled to see scales covering one side of the man’s face. “Though there are many who call me The Dragon Witch.” Patton’s eyes widened, and Desmond nodded. “Yes,” he said before Patton could speak. “I am the one that cursed you.”

A million thoughts ran through Patton’s head, a dozen questions, a hundred demands, he almost had half a mind to attack again, but all that managed to come out was one, half-choked word.

“Why?”

Desmond sighed, and even though it’d been years since Patton had had even a short conversation with anyone besides himself, Patton could tell that the man in his tower was truly sad about something.

“It was not so much a curse on you,” he explained, “as it was a curse on your parents. You see, many years ago, a new king took power in this land, and he decreed all magic to be a horrid, evil thing. He banned the study and practice of magic, forcing witches such as myself into hiding, and he commanded that any and all magical creatures be hunted down and killed indiscriminately.”

“In-discrim-inately?” Patton asked, sounding out the word slowly.

“Yes.” Desmond grimaced. “It means that the king wanted the creatures and witches killed, whether they’d done anything to hurt anyone else or not.”

“That’s awful!” Patton gasped, his eyes growing wide.

“It certainly is,” Desmond agreed. “And your parents are– well, they were–”

“Monster hunters,” Patton recalled.

“Some of the best in the business, unfortunately,” Deceit growled. “They killed several of my friends...including my old familiar. A dragon, like you, though as a familiar they could control their transformations.”

Desmond appeared lost in thought for a moment, and Patton shifted uncomfortably. It was sad to hear about Desmond’s friends, but it still was odd hearing his parents talked about with such hatred.

“I thought to teach them a lesson,” Desmond said after a pause. “Of all the creatures they fought, dragons were those that they feared and hated the most. I laid a curse on them that they must face their worst fear, and come to truly love the thing they hated.”

Patton’s eyes widened.

“So that’s why I–”

“I thought that by turning their only child into one of us, I could show them that magical creatures are really no different than humans.” Desmond folded his arms and looked around the tower. “In all honesty, I thought the curse would break within a year. I had no idea this would be their solution.”

Patton nodded, then frowned, and tilted his head to the side.

“Wait...you said they were monster hunters...not are monster hunters.”

Desmond looked up and grimaced.

“That’s...why I came here,” he whispered. “When I heard that the Belmonts had been killed...I knew I had to find you.” 

Patton’s eyes widened in shock, but somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to be sad about his parents’ deaths. He felt almost worse that he didn’t feel more grief...shouldn’t a child mourn the loss of their parents? 

“I assumed the curse hadn’t been lifted, since they fought against magic until their dying day,” Desmond continued. “I found out that they paid a man to bring food to this tower every fortnight, and I knew it had to be where they’d kept you.” He looked up at Patton, regret shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Patton. I had no idea until now that this is where you were all these years.”

Patton opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a whimper, and all of a sudden more tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was sobbing outright, which seemed to take Desmond by surprise.

“W-why?” Patton choked out through his sobs. “W-was it me? W-was I not good enough? Why c-couldn’t they...why did they just leave me?”

Desmond’s gaze softened, and he made a soothing sound, reaching up and gently ran his hand across Patton’s face, wiping the tears away. Patton shuddered a bit and leaned into the contact, and Desmond sighed.

“I wish I had a better answer for you,” he murmured. “But I truly don’t know. I am sorry, though, Patton. You didn’t deserve this curse, it isn’t right for you to bear their punishment.”

“S-so...can you lift the curse then?” Patton asked, a faint spark of hope shining desperately in his eyes. Desmond’s expression grew pained, and before he even replied, Patton knew what the answer would be.

“The spell was very specific,” he said quietly. “For the magic seal to break, you must truly love the thing you hate. I cannot lift the curse myself, it would take…” he trailed off, his eyes widening.

“What?” Patton asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“I...I cannot lift the curse. But perhaps…” Desmond closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Patton shrank back in fear. They were glowing an eerie yellow, and his voice was deep and layered as he chanted:

“Love in its purest form alone Could all the parents’ sins atone.  But where they’ve fallen short and failed,  Another being may prevail.  An act of love that’s pure and whole  Will heal the cursed child’s soul.”

Desmond closed his eyes again, and opening them, they were back to their normal color.

“What...what did you just do?” Patton asked, amazed.

“I gave the curse a...well, let’s call it an update. It no longer relies on your parents for the act of love that the magical seal requires to break, it can come from anybody.”

“Really?” Patton’s eyes widened, and as the thought filled his mind, he felt himself twist and shrink until he was a human again. Desmond was now a few inches taller than him, and he stared up at the witch hopefully. “So...what happens now?” 

"If you love someone, and they love you for who you truly are, without any selfish intentions or ulterior motives, then an act of pure love from that person will lift the curse," Desmond said simply.

“Okay!” Patton cried, then he frowned again. “But...I’ve never left this tower…” he said slowly. “And there’s really nowhere else I can go to stop my dragon form from hurting anyone by accident.” Patton wrapped his arms around himself, and Desmond hesitantly placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Where there are towers and dragons and souls in need of saving, adventurers and knights often may follow. With no one left below to tend to this building, its ownership falls to you. I can ensure you are still fed and kept comfortable, and you may remain here until someone who is capable of lifting the curse comes for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Patton exclaimed, rushing forward and flinging his arms around Desmond.

The witch stiffened, but he awkwardly placed his arms around the boy’s shoulders. When Desmond pulled back, Patton’s eyes were bright and shining, and Desmond felt another stab of guilt. The poor thing was barely a teenager, still only a child, really. He didn’t deserve to suffer like this. Anger towards the Belmonts once again stirred in Desmond’s stomach, and he almost wished the pair were still alive just so he could curse them again, this time for leaving their son to such a fate.

“Very well then…” Desmond said, holding back a sigh. “Good luck, Patton Belmont.”

“Thank you!” Patton said again with a large smile.

Desmond nodded, then he raised up his cloak, and in a puff of smoke he was gone.

Patton stared at the space where he disappeared, almost in disbelief. After a moment, another puff of smoke rose up, and a basket full of food appeared, which Patton descended on eagerly. As he ate, he felt a tiny spark of hope reignite in his chest. For so long, he’d been alone; sure that he’d be trapped like this forever. For the first time in years, there was a chance he wouldn’t be.

All he needed was somebody who could love him.

Prologue, Ch.1,  Ch.2, Ch.3

A/N: And with that, our story begins! If you are a typical reader of my writing, you know I am incredibly inconsistent with updates XD, but I’m going to TRY to be a little more consistent with this story! The next chapter will have more familiar faces in it, but in the meantime if you have questions about this au or have headcanons to share, this blog’s inbox is open! If you want to keep updated on this story, follow this blog, as there will not be a taglist. Hope you all enjoyed!  -Taylor, aka, Iron. 

AU Creator: @thegremlinprince

Other fics by @ironwoman359 

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Licht is a dragon tamer. (LawLicht, Dragon AU)

Mount Midas towered over Licht. He stood at the base of the golden mountain. A stairway was carved into the mountain but the top was masked by the clouds. It was rumoured to house countless treasures. A dragon also lived at the top of the mountain and he guarded the gold. Millions had attempted to reach the riches and died. Licht wasn’t scared though. He was both an angel and a dragon tamer.

There was a small shrine at the foot of the mountain that memorialized the lives lost on the mountain. He knew each person likely had their own reason for seeking out the gold, whether it was greed or adventure. Licht didn’t know them when they were alive but his mother taught him that each life was precious. He took out an apple and placed it on the base as an offering.

Licht stepped back from the small shrine. His eyes moved to the stairway and his gaze followed the steps to the top of the mountain. He didn’t look away from his goal as he walked through the archway. Yet, he barely took a few steps before he stopped by a voice. “You must be a brave man. Then again, you could also be a foolish one if you intend to fight a dragon alone.”

He turned around and saw a man sitting on top of the arch. Licht was certain that he wasn’t there earlier and he hadn’t heard the man approach him either. He had to be suspicious of his sudden appearance. In response to his scowl, the man casually introduced himself. “My name is Hyde and I’m the gatekeeper of this mountain. I thought I should warn you about the dragon sleeping at the summit.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m an angel.” He told him and his words made Hyde pause.

“Oh? I thought angels were merely a mythical being in fairy tales.” Hyde tilted his head slightly. Most people didn’t believe that he was an angel and it seemed Hyde was the same. That irritated Licht. He was tempted to kick the man for doubting him but he didn’t want to waste his time. He needed to collect the gold before the sun set.

Hyde pushed himself off the arch and he seemingly floated in the air for a moment. He landed next to him and lightly tugged on Licht’s cloak. He lifted the fabric and said, “You don’t have angel wings. Are they invisible? I’ve never met an angel before and my parents didn’t read me fairy tales often. I’m curious. Tell me more about yourself, Angel Cakes.”

“I don’t like strangers touching my wings, Shit Rat.” He snapped at him and jerked his cloak out of his hands. The laughter in his red eyes made him think that Hyde was mocking him. It was clear that he was a demon. Licht faced him and kicked Hyde with enough force that he flew down the stairs. He turned around and marched up the steps.

“Wait, don’t go, Angel!” Hyde called after him as he recovered his footing. He looked over his shoulder to face him once more. To Licht’s surprise, Hyde climbed the stairs so quickly that he was beside him again in minutes. “I want to ask you a few questions. This could be my only chance to speak with an angel.”

“You believe me?” Licht asked and Hyde nodded.

“Of course I do, Angel Cakes. In my lifetime, I’ve seen dragons and phoenixes fly over my mountain. I thought angels may exist as well but I never imagined I would meet one. Your eyes are as stunning as I pictured they would be.” He leaned closer to him but Licht lightly kicked his knee. Hyde chuckled and said, “I can help you defeat the dragon living on this mountain if you tell me more about yourself.”

“… My name is Licht.” He answered but he had no intention on accepting his help. A part of him was still wary and he didn’t know if he should trust him. Anyways, he was confident that he could fight the dragon by himself. “You said you were the mountain’s gatekeeper. I doubt you have much experience fighting so you’ll only get in my way.”

“Are you sure?” Hyde stepped around him until he blocked his path. “I’ve lived on this mountain my whole life and seen countless people fail to slay that dragon. I can help you make a strategy from their mistakes. You are making those same mistakes right now. First, these stairs lead directly to the dragon. You should be stealthy and go around the mountain.”

“That will take longer. I’m an angel so I don’t need tricks or complicated strategies to defeat that dragon. I will purify it and take its gold.” He intended to walk past Hyde but he once again moved in front of him. Licht stumbled a little when he bumped into him. Hyde kept him from falling backwards and down the stairs. He caught him with an arm around his waist.

“What a shame.” They stood close to each other but Licht couldn’t read the thoughts in his eyes. Hyde had a small frown. He sighed and continued, “I thought you would be more interesting, Lichtan. I was hoping that you would have a unique strategy that would entertain me at least. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard something similar.”

“But I’ll be the first and only one to make those words come true. I’m a dragon tamer and I’ve fought many already. Now, get out of my way before I kick you off this mountain.” Pride filled his voice. Licht stood straighter and he met Hyde’s unwavering eyes. They glared at each other. Both of them was waiting to see who would concede first. It was Hyde. He stepped aside with an amused smile.

“You are something special, Lichtan.”

“I’m an angel.”

His response made Hyde chuckle but he was careful to hide that from Licht. Hyde didn’t believe angels existed but he played along so he could spend more time with him. He spoke with many warriors who passed through the gate but not one of them was as interesting as Licht. Hyde started to hope Licht would leave the mountain before he faced the dragon.

They climbed the stairs side by side. He stared at the top of the mountain and asked Licht: “What do you plan to do if you kill the dragon? There is enough gold to buy a country and build a castle at the same time. That’s what I would do if I could leave this mountain. Unfortunately, I’m bound to protect the gold.”

“If you want something, you should reach out and take it. Anything is possible if you can imagine it. You will be able to leave this mountain once I defeat the dragon and take the gold. Whatever binds you to the mountain will be gone.” Licht said but Hyde didn’t look happy like he expected he would be. He appeared a little lonely and melancholy.

Hyde touched the golden chain around his neck. “Life isn’t easy or simple, Angel Cakes. It becomes even worse when you give your heart to something fleeting. I can’t leave so let’s talk about your dream. That’s much more interesting. What brings you to this mountain? What do you plan to do after you fight the dragon? Angels seem like the type to have big dreams.”

“I plan to give the gold to the poor.” Licht took out a map from his bag and spread it out for Hyde to see. “On my travels, I came across many poor villages. I remembered my mom’s story of the dragon who hordes gold at the top of this mountain. The gold can help them out of poverty.”

“So, you plan to steal from the rich and give to the poor like Robin Hood. You’re a noble angel, Lichtan.” Hyde said after Licht pointed out the other places he wanted to visit or help. He scanned the rest of the map. The world looked very different from the last time he left the mountain. He wished he could see how much it changed with his own eyes.

Licht told him about the landmarks he had already visited. The way his blue eyes lit up made Hyde think it would be fun to travel with him. His reactions would be amusing. He wondered what he would do once they reach the summit of the mountain. There was only a few more steps from the top. Hyde spun around and then he sat down on the step.

“I said I would help you but I think it’s better for me to sit here while you fight that dragon. The gold at the top of the mountain is valuable but a view like this is priceless.” Hyde reached out his hand to the horizon. “You’re an angel, right, Licht? Can you tell me what it’s like to fly free?”

“It’s the best feeling in the world.” He said softly and stared at the open sky. A cool breeze passed them and Hyde ran his hand through his hair to keep it in place. Licht once again saw the longing his red eyes held. It was clear that Hyde wanted to leave but there was something holding him back. He didn’t know if it was his place to say anything to him.

Licht briefly touched his shoulder before he walked past him. He climbed up the final few steps until he reached the top. A palace made of gold stood before him. The sunlight reflected off the precious metal and it almost blinded him. After a moment, the initial gleam of the city became dull. The city’s walls were broken and its remains were reduced to golden rubble on the ground.

He walked between the pillars and searched for the dragon. It would be best to kill the dragon before he collected the gold. He couldn’t see the dragon but there weren’t many places a large, mystical creature could hide. Licht placed his hand on his sword and continued to explore. There was a field of gold flowers tucked away in a forgotten corner of the courtyard. A statue of a woman stood in the center.  

“Her dream of peace lives on with these flowers.” He read the plaque. Licht picked one of the flowers and it was heavy in his hands. His eyes narrowed when he noticed something reflected in the golden petals. A dragon. He didn’t turn around to immediately fight it though. The dragon’s red eyes were distinct and familiar. “Hyde?”

“You can recognize me? I don’t know if that will make our fight more interesting or not. I hope you won’t hold back in our fight.” His voice confirmed that the dragon was Hyde. He was angry that he had lied to him and pretended to be a simple gatekeeper. He gripped his sword but the golden shackle around Hyde’s neck caught Licht’s attention. As a dragon tamer, he recognized it immediately.

Hyde lifted his tail and his scales sharpened into spikes like a hedgehog. Even as he slammed his tail downward, Licht didn’t flinch or move to dodge the attack. He blocked the quills with his sword. In a precise maneuver, he pushed his tail away and then stabbed it. The quills became flat scales again and he was barely able to cut through it. It didn’t seem to affect him though. Their eyes were locked together and Licht thought he saw Hyde grin.

“Show me how well an angel can fly, Lichtan.” With a powerful swing in his tail, he knocked him into the air. Hyde watched him with the expectation that Licht would descend down the mountain. He found himself disappointed that their fight was so short. Licht’s cloak billowed in the air but they slowly became more solid and changed shape. “So, you do have angel wings.”

“I thought I told you that I was an angel.” Licht raised his sword and frowned down at him. He flew faster than Hyde expected and he couldn’t track his movements well. Hyde turned all his scales into quills so Licht couldn’t attack him easily. He felt his collar shift and he realized that Licht had landed on it. He swore and he tried to throw Licht off his back.

Hyde froze when Licht said, “You have a dragon tamer.”

“I had a dragon tamer.” He corrected him. His words confused Licht because the chain would disappear once the tamer died. Yet, Licht could hear from his voice that he was being truthful. “Greed killed her. She’s dead but her dream lives on. I’m bound to protect the gold.”

“No tamer would ask their dragon to continue to serve their dream after their death. The only chains keeping you on this mountain is your own.” Hyde was silent. Licht couldn’t see his face so he wasn’t able to read his thoughts. He remembered the lessons his mother gave him about the bond between tamer and dragon.

Metal lightly clicked as Licht touched his sword against the gold collar. “If her dying wish was truly to keep you on this mountain, I shouldn’t be able to break this collar. This gaudy, gold thing is made of your halfhearted belief and nothing more.”

“Wait, Licht, what are you going to do?” He screamed but he couldn’t stop Licht before he cut through the thick chain. His collar fell to the ground and the chains clattered loudly until they disappeared. Hyde felt his magic being released and he couldn’t maintain his form. Golden flames burst around them and Licht instinctively raised his arms over his face.

The body beneath him disappeared and Licht fell to the ground. The fall didn’t hurt him as much as he expected it would. Licht groaned and pushed himself onto his knees. He realized that he had landed on Hyde and he now sat on his chest. They both blushed at the position they were in. He quickly stood and brushed the dirt from his pants.

“I will collect the gold and accomplish my dream. You can fly to your dream.” He said and picked up a gold flower. Hyde didn’t respond immediately and Licht turned to face him. He was already gone. Licht understood why he would immediately leave. Yet, a part of him was disappointed. “You could’ve thanked me at least, Shit Rat.”

Licht collected as much as the gold as he could in his bag. It was heavy and he wished he thought to ask someone to travel with him. It would’ve been easier to carry the gold. He turned away from the golden mountain and walked down the stairs. He took out his map to find the nearest village.

When he reached the bottom, he found a horse drawn wagon parked in front of the gate. Hyde grinned at him from where he sat on the arch. He nodded to the gold on the wagon bed before he jumped down. He landed beside him and gently took Licht’s bag. “I want to explore this country but blindly wandering about will be dangerous. I thought of how we can help each other, Licht.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll help you distribute the gold if you let me travel with you.” Hyde suggested.

In answer, Licht showed him the map. “The nearest village is east.”

[doctordiscord123]

Hey!

Another thing, but this one’s fun! I’ve told a few of you that I’m working on a fantasy AU of the Markiplier egos specifically based on ‘Shimmering Depths’ and the Mythical Creature and Tail chapters of Ego Characterizations, and I shared the first chapter of it to a small group so I’m gonna put that here too! Figured it’d be unfair to share to some and not others. Anyway, the story’s already over 10,000 words and I’m nowhere near done, so I will get that whole thing out on AO3 whenever I finish it!

           King hummed idly to himself, wisping from his tree to sit on a branch and tend to a robin’s nest tucking against the trunk, hidden from the ground by the perfect green leaves he nurtured so carefully. The baby birds, featherless and ugly and completely dependent on their mother, chirped and squawked at him, fluttering their little wings. King chuckled, ghosting a finger over one’s tiny little head. “Hello to you, too, little ones! I’m sure your mother’ll be back soon!”

           The birds peeped some more, tangling themselves together, and the dryad joined back with his home, reappearing several branches up to check up on the squirrel nest expertly woven to his branches. He grinned, eyes lighting up, when he spotted the very pregnant red squirrel curled up inside. Squirrels always were his favorite visitors… “Hey Vita! How are you holding up? Shouldn’t be long now, right?”

           The squirrel just chattered, lifting her head and closing her eyes when King scratched the top of her head, body vibrating as she purred. He let out a delighted giggle before disappearing back into his tree.

           King sighed, reappearing sitting among the roots, leaning up against the trunk with his knees pulled up to his chest as he stared out at the ocean. The waves gently lapped at the shore, tantalizingly close. King had his feet buried in the grass, but if he extended his leg his heel would brush the beginnings of the sandy beach. He’d been watching the ocean for as long as he could remember, curiosity plaguing him every time he caught a glance out of the corner of his eye. He belonged to his tree, to the wide stretch of forest that extended beyond it.

           But there was just something so alluring about the waves.

           King fidgeted where he sat, frowning and clenching his fists. There was an abandoned pier, a little to the right, with a small, equally abandoned cabin not to far from its beginning. A long time ago, a human family lived here. King remembered their son. And it would be so easy to just get up, walk along the pier and just…something. Do something.

           King made a frustrated noise, forehead connecting with his knees before his head shot up again. He hesitantly got to his feet, taking a couple of uncertain steps forward, till his toes dug into the sand. This is as far as he’s ever gotten before, always chickening out before he could take that one last step and commit –

           Squeezing his eyes shut, King sprinted forward, gasping and skidding to halt just as quickly at the feel of sand instead of grass and dirt beneath him. He shifted a little, cocking his head to the side. It was…unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It felt squishy, not firm like the ground, and when he shifted again his feet became buried a little. It was…strange. It was amazing.

           King beamed, laughing a little as he spread his arms and lifted one foot, watching the sand fall. He repeated the move with his other foot, wobbling a little. Suddenly his face fell, and he glanced over his shoulder. His tree still stood on the little stretch of plainland between the forest and the beach, like a lone guardian, as tall and proud as ever. King’s smile slowly returned, and he bounced a little in place before leaping onto the pier and running along it, the wood firm and familiar beneath his feet.

           He halted when he reached the edge, gripping onto the railing. He inched forward a bit, till his toes were curled over the edge of the wood, and he leaned forward, peering down into the depths. It wasn’t as blue as he thought it would be up close, more a murky green. He swallowed nervously when he realized he couldn’t see the bottom, shifting back those extra inches. Though he was unwilling to leave when he was this close. So, instead, he crouched down, keeping one hand on the wooden railing just for familiar comfort as he continued to stare downwards. He could see his reflection. He’d only ever seen it in small rain puddles that formed near his tree, and the push and pull of the water made look…hypnotizing and strange.

           That is, until he realized the grinning face staring back at him was not his own.

           King shrieked, falling backwards and scrambling away from the edge. His breath came in rapid gasps, his eyes wide and terrified. At least, until he realized the ocean was laughing, beautiful, bubbling, mildly maniac sounding laughter. King swallowed hard, picking himself up off the pier to inch back closer again, but he didn’t get very far before there was a splashing noise and someone was appearing on the edge of the pier, their arms crossed and chin resting on them with the rest of them dangling over the edge still.

           It was…a boy. With beautiful, glittery black hair that curled in a way that reminded King of the waves, somehow fluffy and dry looking even though he was just underwater. Purple scales shimmered in patches along his arms and face, contrasting gloriously with his bronze skin. When King crept cautiously closer still, he could see that his eyes were warm and brown and bright with laughter still. When he grinned, King could see the edges of his canines, small, but razor sharp.

           The boy laughed again, eyes flicking over him and seemingly finding amusement in his timidness. “Hello!”

           King cleared his throat, waving one hand like he’d seen humans do. “H-hi.”

           The boy giggled, boosting himself up a little more, and King could see more glimmering purple scales trailing down his neck. A cheeky expression crossed his features, his tongue poking out a little between his teeth. “After you’ve stared at my face for so long, I think introductions are in order. I’m Bim. You’re a dryad, right?”

           King flushed at the boy’s – Bim’s – first words, but his eyes quickly widened. “How did you know?”

           Bim snorted. “Well for starters, you’re green. And your ears are all pointy. Definitely not human.” King glanced down at one hand, at his green-tinted skin, while the other ran over the top of an ear. Bim’s grin softened into a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

           King shrugged. “I…technically don’t have one. But the others call me King.”

           Bim raised an eyebrow. “King huh? Why’s that? And ‘others’?”

           King fidgeted a little at so many questions at once, shifting into a cross-legged position before glancing over his shoulder, at his lone tree. “See that tree,” he asked, pointing. “That’s me. I watch over the forest. I’m their guardian of sorts.”

           Bim’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open a little. “Oh! You’re the one we keep seeing staring at the ocean!” His grin returned. “You know, I had a bet on how long it would take you to finally come over here.”

           King flushed, fiddling with the end of his robe, colored to seamlessly blend in with his bark. “And um…did you win?”

           Bim’s grin widened and he just winked.

           King cleared his throat again, nervousness giving way as his curiosity returned like one of the crashing waves he could hear on the shore behind them, and he scooted a little closer. “Um…if you don’t mind me asking…what are you?” He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen anything like you. And I’ve met a lot of creatures over the past centuries.”

           Bim smiled. “Right! Mister Land Dweller’s probably never met a merman before.”

           Before King could properly comprehend his sentence, Bim was arching his tail over his head, showering them both in water. King gasped, jaw dropping. He glanced at Bim’s face, at his highly amused expressions, before reaching hesitantly up. “Can…c-can I…?”

           Bim brought his tail down lower for him, and King trailed his fingers across the smooth sleek scales. He stopped when Bim shuddered, his forehead dropping to his arms. “I-I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

           Bim raised his head again. “No. It’s just a bit…weird. It’s like…what if someone just came up and stroked your…whatever these are.” He jabbed at King’s legs with a finger, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

           King laughed, smiling brightly as he continued to pet Bim’s tail. “They’re called legs.”

           Bim snorted. “I don’t like them. Too fleshy. How do you swim?”

           King paused, hands dropping back to lap, and Bim lowered his tail back into the water. “I…don’t know. I don’t even know how to swim. I don’t think I could even go in the water, not without drowning immediately. But I’ve seen humans do it before.”

           Bim made a humming noise, brief, but the musical tone still had King’s eyelids drooping and his mind fogging. But it was over in the blink of an eye, Bim’s eyes still narrowed. He opened his mouth to say more, but a call not unlike a whale’s song echoed across the ocean, bellowing and haunting and rolling with the waves. Bim’s head shot up, eyes going wide. “That’s my cue! I have to go!” He made to dive back into the water, but he paused, flashing King a beaming smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow? At sunset?”

           King nodded, smiling softly himself. “Okay.”

           Bim winked, and he was gone, the water splashing in his wake.

           King scrambled to the edge of the pier, gazing down into the water just in time to see the last flash of purple of Bim’s tail. Slowly, he smiled, standing and brushing the sand of his thin, toga-like robe before making his way back to his tree, where the baby birds still chirped and Vita still chattered.

           For some reason, he found himself looking forward to tomorrow’s sunset.

[megsblackfirewrites]

My Golden Obsession: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Gabriel ran his fingers slowly through Ana’s hair. She had finally died after the infection in her eye became too much. He’d tried to keep it clean, but there was only so much he could do when she refused to remain still while he was working. If she had only stopped thrashing while he peeled the skin off of her hands, this wouldn’t have been an issue.

“It’s too bad about Fareeha,” Gabriel said as he pushed Ana’s stringy hair out of her eyes. “She was so worried about you, Ana. But, I suppose, in the end, it’s for the best. She won’t have you telling her to go for something other than the military. It’s really too bad you weren’t as supportive of her as you could have been. She valued your opinion so much. Oh well.”

He patted her cheek and got to his feet. He whistled as he went to get his supplies, making sure his equipment was as sharp as possible. He carried Ana’s body over to the basin in the far corner of his workshop and set her down. He started cutting her body up, sawing through her bones at the joints to keep from dulling his blade too much.

The blood ran down the drain and out into the underground septic system he had on the property. Unless the police came here and investigated his workshop; which wasn’t registered under his name in the first place; they would never find anything. He rolled Ana’s body parts into a biodegradable garbage bag and tied off the end. He rinsed the basin down, mixing in bleach to destroy as much of the blood residue as he could.

He picked up the bag after the basin was cleaned and carried it outside. He’d spent a good chunk of the evening digging out a suitable grave; no one from the city planning committee would approve of such things since it wasn’t six feet deep, but that was hardly top priority. He dropped the bag into the hole and set his hands over his heart.

“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to wish Ana Amari the best of luck in Hell,” he said. “We all know that’s where she’s going for being such an infuriating, morally reprehensible woman. She’ll be free for a few short years before I go down there to make her life miserable. Cast your handful of dirt and let’s get this witch buried.”

He cast a handful of dirt into the grave and started shovelling dirt back over Ana’s remains. He should have felt guilty about burying his friend, but all he felt was elation. He was back in top form, ridding the most precious thing in his life of those that would try to harm him. There would be more people in the world that would attack his precious darling and he would make sure that they suffered for their misdeeds.

As he was putting the final shovel-full of dirt onto the hole, he heard the soft click of a camera. He almost stiffened, but managed to keep himself loose. He ran the blade of the shovel over the disturbed earth, smoothing it out. Then, he whipped around and threw the shovel as hard as he could towards the source of the disturbance.

There was a sharp cry of pain as the shovel slammed into whoever it was that was spying on him. He bolted towards the noise, growling low in his throat as he saw the middle-aged, portly man in jogging clothing stumble away from his workshop. He slipped behind the man and grabbed him by the head, wrenching him around to get him to the ground. He started beating the man’s head mercilessly against the ground, grinning widely as he watched bits of flesh and blood cling to the point of contact.

He threw the man’s head down with one final shove and got to his feet. He hoisted the man over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, hauling him and his camera into the workshop. He dropped the bloody-faced man into the armchair and strapped him in, smirking to himself. How long had it been since he’d actually played with a man in this seat? Most of his victims were always adult women that had thought it appropriate to attempt to seduce a teenager, but a grown man that should have been able to know better than to aggravate a man like him? No, those were rare delicacies.

He lifted the man’s head with a finger and slowly turned it from one side to the other. Not bad features, he would admit. They would be sharper if he wasn’t covered in access fat. What a masterpiece he could make out of him with just a scalpel and a little bit of scraping.

He licked his lips eagerly and backed away. A real masterpiece! Something to shock and awe the world. Bacchus or Dionysus, the god of wine and parties; what better portly fellow to draw inspiration from for this man. He’d have to clean up his face a little bit, get himself some nice materials to make an ornate crown of leaves and grapes. And maybe dye the hair to match his beautiful muse, or did the man deserve to have anything resembling his precious Jack?

The man let out a low moan as he came to. Confused hazel eyes opened and the man shifted in the chair. He looked down at his bound hands, mouth opening and closing slowly before he gasped and started struggling.

“No! No, let me go!” the man sobbed. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

“You’re right, you won’t,” Gabriel agreed as he walked around the man. “You can’t talk when you’re dead.”

“No! Please, I have a wife and kids at home,” the man sobbed and thrashed. “You can’t do this! They’ll be looking for me!”

“Will they?” Gabriel asked as he leaned in and rested his arms across the back of the man’s shoulders. “I don’t see a ring, but I do see a tan line for it. Tell me, does your wife know that you go out jogging at this unusual hour of the night? Or out to this remote area of the city? Or is this a convenient excuse to meet up with some lover? A woman, young and beautiful or, how scandalous, a young man?”

“No, no, it’s not! I swear!” the man sobbed. “Please!”

“Hmm, well, I’m not one to judge. That’s for someone else to decide whether or not you are dutiful to your wife,” Gabriel admitted as he drew away. “But you must admit that it is quite curious for someone your age and size to be out jogging here without the faintest sign of perspiration on his clothing. Not even salt stains. So, really, can you blame me for my assumptions?”

He turned around and leaned on his workbench. “Regardless of who you were before tonight, it won’t matter. I’m going to turn you into a god, my portly friend. Isn’t that a wonderful thing? Who doesn’t want to be a god, right? Women desire you, men fear you and love you in equal measures. Why, you have festivals held in your honour. You have amazing food and treasures sacrificed to you. People remember your name for eons even after worship of you has died out. Can you image?” Gabriel smiled.

“Please, just let me go,” the man whimpered. “Please.”

“You’re pathetic,” Gabriel rolled his eyes as he picked up a scalpel and slowly twisted it in his hand. “I offer you immortality and you cry like a newborn.”

Gabriel shook his head as he walked over and ran the blade over the man’s cheek. “A little nip and tuck, really bring out the chiseled features.”

“Please,” the man tried to pull away.

“I have a better idea,” Gabriel growled. “I’m going to sew that mouth shut so you stop blubbering.”

The man started shaking his head as Gabriel pulled away. He walked over to his workbench and grabbed his sewing equipment. He threaded the needle without a moment’s hesitation. He gave it a few quick tugs before turning around to face his masterpiece. The man started sobbing as Gabriel approached, throwing his head around until Gabriel grabbed him by the jaw. The needle punched through the corner of the man’s lips and he screamed, opening up the new addition until Gabriel flipped the needle around and tied the end off.

He smiled before he started the arduous task of sewing the mouth shut of a man that was screaming for help.

Jack sat at his desk with his hands in his hair. His desk was covered in missing persons reports and his superiors were starting to get scared. They wouldn’t say it out, but Jack knew it was there. This string of kidnappings were too similar, too carefully orchestrated. It was meticulous, so perfect that Jack couldn’t wrap his head around how it was possible that anyone could pull this off.

But it was identical to the Reaper kidnappings and murders that had plagued L.A for years. There didn’t seem to be a connection this time, though. Most of Reaper’s victims had been young women, all relatively attractive women that had some sort of shady history either with drugs, the black market, one or two were helping human traffickers, but they all fit the same profile. There had been a few exceptions and it was believed that they had stumbled across the Reaper while he was disposing of a body and had been silenced.

Now, though, Jack couldn’t find a single connection. Young, old, athletic, skinny, obese, male, female; the Reaper seemed content to take them all. And the bodies that they found, when the Reaper felt like leaving them, were all mutilated with the same surgical care, but the muse, as it were, was different. Reaper used to have a preference for recreating photos from the South; hangings, hunting photos, anything widely available so that people knew what they were looking at. Now, he seemed to be going for a holy vibe; angels and demons, gods and goddesses, and mythical creatures that were once seen as fair were turned into grotesque and macabre creations of stitched flesh and broken bone.

It was unnatural. It was perverse. It made Jack sick to his stomach. But there was nothing he could do except stare at the faces paperclipped to the front of the missing persons report and slowly label each one deceased.

Someone knocked on his door before another officer poked her head in. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Jack sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair. “You stuck here too?”

“Yah,” she sighed as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. “Thought I’d come see how you were doing.”

“Poorly,” he said and waved towards a chair. “You, Satya?”

“As well as can be expected,” she sighed as she sat down. “I was here at the tail end of the Reaper’s run. This,” she gestured to the reports, “this is like living a nightmare.”

“Sorry you have to relive that,” he said.

“He got my sister,” Satya added as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he stared at her in horror.

“Don’t be; she was a bitch,” Satya rubbed at her forehead. “She…she was horrible. To me, to our mother; I can’t even say it was just a phase. She was just…mean. Right down to her bones. She’d probably kick a puppy in the face if she was annoyed with it.”

“Oh…wow,” Jack grimaced.

“And yet…she didn’t deserve what happened to her. He…strung her up like a cow being butchered and…. Oh gods, the smell. It still haunts me. And knowing what agony she must have gone through…she didn’t deserve that. No one does. The Reaper…he’s a sick man. A sick, terrible man.”

“We’ll get him,” Jack said sternly. “We’ll get the bastard this time.”

“I hope so,” Satya shook her head and tugged at the end of her braid. “I want justice for my sister. We were never close but….”

“I understand, Satya,” he smiled. “We’ll get her the justice she deserves. If you need anything, let me know, okay? I might not have much experience with serial killers, but I do know how to deal with grief.”

“Thank you, Jack,” she smiled and shook her head. “Sometimes it’s good to get stuff like that off your chest. I just…a lot of the veterans on the force, the ones that lived through that dark time, they don’t want to talk about it. Brings up bad memories. But I…I need to talk about it sometimes. I need to…to validate my emotions.”

“And I completely understand,” he soothed. “My doors always open. Don’t be afraid to stop in if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” she smiled before she stood up and leaned on the desk. “So…all these people have been found?”

Jack nodded and tapped each file. “Bacchus, Artemis, Michael, Sedna; the Reaper spared no expense in making them look like their holy counterparts. I’m…scared of what we’ll see next.”

“At least they still look human,” Satya murmured. “I…thank you, Jack. I…I should leave you to your reports.”

Jack got to his feet and walked around his desk. He gently took Satya by the shoulders and rubbed up and down her arms. She smiled at him, reaching up to brush tears away from her eyes.

“Your feelings are valid, Satya,” he soothed. “There’s no reason to be ashamed of them. I know a lot of people seem to think that telling you to ‘get over it’ is the best way, but it’s not true. There’s scars on your mind that can never fully heal. I know a lot about PTSD. If you ever need someone to talk to, and I mean it, come see me.”

Satya smiled up at him and rubbed at her tears again. “You know, I think you would have made a great dad,” she said. “Better than most.”

“Can’t have kids of my own, so I do my best to be that supportive person in other people’s lives,” Jack smiled. He pulled her slowly forward, letting her pull away if she was uncomfortable. When she was flush against his chest, he hugged her tightly, pulling her sinewy body in close and hiding her behind his arms. “You’re worth so much, Satya. I’m proud of how strong you are.”

“You’re really hoping to make me cry,” she laughed softly. “You’re a great guy, Jack. Please don’t forget that.”

“I’ll try not to,” he said as he let her pull away. “Go hide in your office if you want. I’ll…get back to this nightmare.”

He gestured at the pile of folders and she nodded in understanding. She kissed his cheek before leaving the office, humming softly to herself. He’d figured out that humming helped her relax. He hoped the kid would be alright; the Reaper had torn so many lives apart. It almost didn’t seem real. How could one person cause so much misery?

At least he had Gabriel to keep him sane. The man was working overtime to meet the demands of a populace that wanted to shower their loved ones with gifts to remind them of their love. He was having stuffed bears coming out of his workshop by the truckload and his fingers were covered in pinpricks from where he’d stabbed himself with his needles. He wasn’t as distraught over the missing persons, but he didn’t see the end result like Jack did; he just saw the watered down images that the media covered.

He knew that if Gabriel had to see what Jack did, he’d break down. Anyone would. It was nothing to be ashamed of. He just wished there was someone to talk to other than the other officers. Maybe a psychiatrist that was learned in dealing with PTSD cases.

He rubbed at his eyes before sitting back down. He had work to do.

                                                            ***

“Hey, I’m home,” Jack called as he walked into his house. “Fuck, is that cookies?”

“Made them just for you,” Gabriel smiled as he lifted his head off the arm of the couch. “Hey…you get more…files?”

“Yah,” Jack sighed as he pulled his belt off and stripped in the middle of the living room. “Can I just…cuddle?”

“Yah, no problem,” Gabriel lifted his arms.

Jack snuggled against Gabriel’s chest and tucked his face into his warm neck. He breathed in his musky scent, smiling as Gabriel’s big arms wrapped around him. He ran his hands under Gabriel’s shirt, lifting the tight-fitting tee until he could snuggle flesh to flesh against his boyfriend. Gabriel kissed him slowly, running his fingers through Jack’s golden hair.

“My poor angel,” he murmured softly. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. Are you in need of anything?”

“Just you,” Jack murmured. “So long as I have you, I’ll be okay.”

“Then I’ll be here when you need me,” Gabriel soothed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jack smiled against Gabriel’s pulse. “You’re so warm.”

Gabriel kissed his cheek and they settled down comfortably on the couch. He’d worry about eating something later. Right now, he just wanted to feel and smell his boyfriend all around him. His strong boyfriend, his wonderful boyfriend. Where would he be without him?

[lydiafmp-blog]

Stream of consciousness/unedited-ish exploration

Lydia Land/Wilful Innocence

Greek myths - I was thinking about all the different directions I could take the project.  Like how those stories are still relevant today and those classic archetypes and how they inform our culture today.

And those are all intelligent ‘what I would think as intelligent concepts but they are quite broad and impersonal.  I want to do something more personal.  Someone suggested asking how I could sympathise with or embody one of those characters or creatures from one of those stories.

Recently I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection and personal development, so I didn’t want to lose that or leave it out of my project. I’ve been doing a lot of self-discovery through my creative work – like realising what I wanted to study at degree level because of how I work best. I’ve become much more confident in my autonomy, taking control of my own life and it’s been seriously beneficial.  I’ve had more control over what I let into my daily life and what I let bother me and shut out the wider world to protect my own mental health – of Brexit and Trump and the environment going down the drain.  The harsh realities of the adult world which you have to face as you grow up.  And I’ve been stubborn and refused to let that invade my happiness or affect me because there’s’ not a lot I can do about it at the moment when I’m not ready. I just have to prioritise myself at this time.  

My dad mentioned walking into my room and saying it was like walking into Lydia Land, that I had surrounded myself with things that made me happy, a cosy cave full of things.

And then when I tried to tidy and put things in order it didn’t really work, it was like trying to force it into a box where it wouldn’t go like a square peg into a round hole because all that order didn’t fit with who I actually was.  Recently, the more I’ve rejected the traditional way of doing things and really followed what feels right to me the happier I’ve become. Who says these objects should go in this or that place, and why should I listen to that advice?

If I embraced this idea of childish stubbornness, could it inhibit my personal growth or could it actually facilitate it?

I have always been fascinated by the idea of mythical imaginary creatures and worlds.

Things happening that don’t in the real world. People don’t turn into dolphins or find magical stags in the forest or make wings and fly away. WE don’t turn ourselves into trees to avoid getting menaced by a man with goat legs.  

It’s not that I used them to escape reality. It’s not the idea of escaping. It’s about holding on to that childish sense of wonder and the impossible and not having to grow up and becoming bitter and jaded and bored and grey and commute-y.  A stubborn childish refusal where you just stamp your foot and say NO!

Because there are no actual rules in life – you can do what you want. We all follow conventions and traditions to some degree but if it doesn’t fit with who you are, it doesn’t make you happy you have the power to change things and do your own thing.  And in this case it would be refusing to grow up too fast beaus growing up is a depressing inevitability that comes with all these problems.

Icarus and his Dad, they are stuck.  They are led to be trapped on this island locked up in a tower. They see the birds flying around freely and make their own wings to match and fly out of the tower and escape.   So ignoring the ending, taking control of their situation with an out there idea, a hare-brained scheme.  Creative ingenuity to solve a problem, the fantasy element of the wings made it so appealing to me.  Rather than focusing on the moral, the harsh reality – this is what happens if you fantasise too much or get carried away or get over excited – you are going to drown. What kind of a lesson is that?  Icarus gets carried away because he’s having too much fun.  That sense of excitement has to die with him.  I didn’t want to accept that so I ignored it – what I really loved was the bit about the wings and the flying.

Oh you have to be realistic and be careful and focus on all the things that could go wrong.  We’re being conditioned to not enjoy life.  And I thought about Picnic at hanging rock and the innocence of the girls the naivety the dreamy way its shot, and Tuck Everlasting: a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, who meets a boy in the forest after running away from her parents who were trying to send her to a finishing school. That stubbornness - she runs away to the forest and meets a boy who is stuck at age 17 and shows her this new life of running about and playing and the narrator talks about how his family live the slow way, enjoying the little moments/simple pleasures. Whereas the girl’s mother is trying to get her to grow up and become a polished refined lady – trying to force her into the future. That unwillingness to grow up, to go along with the system imposed, because that’s not who she is. Personally, I wished she had drunk the magic water and stayed with him, even though her life ended up led by her own choices.

Other visual stuff that comes to mind – one of the female centaurs in Fantasia, she encapsulates the same feeling I’m trying to convey.  The image of wild water features strongly in my brain, need to figure out why, what it’s telling me.

Also looking at Bambi. Love that Disney animation, the innocence, the youthfulness of wildlife, not so much in the real world but especially in that movie fantasy land.

Also Princess Mononoke, a fierce girl child who is really innocent and vulnerable but fiery and indignant.  And has been raised by a giant wolf, how flipping cool is that.

The scene where the spirit appears in the forest and the crystal clear, still water nearby.  The scenes I’m starting to envisage are innocent wild young creatures, human or otherwise, playing or relaxing. In or near clear water.  There’s a scene in my head. I want to explore that and capture that essence.

There’s wilful innocence and wilful ignorance.  I don’t want to give up my innocence. Innocence in that sense of being mindful and being in the present moment, not thinking of what there is to come.

Another reference point could be The Secret Garden, though not a fantastical story, it has a sense of magic to it, and talks about this kind of magic that happens when you play outside and run around and get the wind in your hair and help things grow.  All of these fantasy scenes I’m thinking of.  All these narratives the strong common theme is nature and the benefits of being in nature.  Also in Bambi the harsh reality – the hunters, deforestation in Princess M.  The destruction of that pure, untouched, carefree world.

Its an emotional state and I want to physically manifest that emotional state, to protect it (as I want to protect myself) and preserve it.  To create this version of myself and put her in that world.    

Some of these references I first looked at when I was six or seven. But they resonate now. They are still relevant – but in interesting new ways from this different perspective.

Dad told me about this: Until you’re about 6 or 7 you think it’s still possible that at some point a golden horse could come around the corner and there’s a moment/age you reach when you realise that this is probably not ever going to happen.

Maybe I need to redefine growing up in some way? Reject the original idea completely, or reframe it somehow

Also that book about that wild girl who gets adopted by a psychologist – that has a similar vibe to what I’m going for