#oh these sheep are cute— oh they’re kinda fucked up actually

[camping-with-monsters]

“CHAAAARGE!!!”

[cve-th3mvsic]

ffuuccccckkkk i was hoping that it wouldn’t make my stomach hurt, but it did

pretty sure minecraft gives me motion sickness. which sucks.

i was just about to go make a path through this cool forest, and i had just gotten three sheep friends…. i swear to god if wanda isn’t there when i play again, i might cry about it

___

i saw this cute sheep who got really happy when i put torches on each side of this one mushroom tree. — the mushroom tree seemed like a cool place to go back to every now and then. kinda like a “checkpoint” but also not a checkpoint. — this sheep was spinning around lookin’ all happy about the torches i put on the tree. it shoved its face on the tree and then looked at me, and i’m like “you like it?” and it started nodding. i was like “okay, i gotta keep you.” i remembered that there’s name tags, so i got a name tag and tried to think of what to name the sheep. as i was tryna think of a name for it, i saw ANOTHER sheep. i knew i had to keep that one too. i asked it “what should i name you?” (as if it could respond.. it can’t. verbally.) and i was like “ooohh,” and i named that sheep donna. — the first sheep i named flipper for some reason. i dunno why. donna is my second sheep, i wanted a name that reminded me of “i don’t know” ‘cause donna turned away when i asked them what i should name them. so i came up with donna. — and then, you’ll never guess what happened next. i found ANOTHER sheep. i knew i had to keep this one too. this one i named wanda. the name came outta my ass tbh. — wanda is kinda stubborn. flipper is super silly. donna just.. donna does their own thing. — wanda wandered off a few times. i had to lure her back to the mushroom tree with some wheat. (oh my gosh that’s so funny “wanda wandered”)

also, i’ve decided…

flipper: it/its pronouns

donna: they/them pronouns

wanda: she/her pronouns

i may have become attached to these sheep already.. love at first sight <3 /j — tbh, right away, i kinda had some beef with wanda. (LMAO STOP.. the term beef in this case…) i definitely liked flipper right away. donna,… i knew donna liked doing their own thing. donna is just donna. donna does what donna wants. but they also have to stay by the mushroom tree. they’re all my friends, and that’s now their “home”. because i said so.

before i got motion sickness and couldn’t play anymore (because i was sweating and my stomach was aching…. yes. my stomach was aching and i was sweating. weird. it sucks. — i also looked it up, it’s gotta be motion sickness), i was gonna wander through these trees and make a path with torches as i went and explored. i was on this like, cliff thingy. there’s a mushroom tree at the top of it. there’s a forest around the cliff. one side of the forest had spread out trees, oak trees and birch trees, and lil flowers around everywhere, and the other side had tall jungle trees and was more eery and spooky looking. i decided on going through the more spread out and flowery side of the forest first, because i did “eeny-miny-moe” and landed on that side, and then i’d go through the jungle lookin side after. — then i got motion sickness and kinda cried about it. had to get off or else i would feel more sick. — i went back to the mushroom tree (i hadn’t gone far yet) and i had to make sure flipper, donna, and wanda were all there. i know i saw flipper, flipper was there. pretty sure donna was too. i got out the wheat to lure them back. i don’t know if i saw wanda, but i probably didn’t. i just said “fuck it. she’ll be fine” and then left the game. i couldn’t wait for her.

if wanda wants to wander and be stubborn, then fine. have it your way wanda. if i figure out what i can feed you sheep (without it making you guys go into “love mode”), and you wanna wander, then you ain’t gettin’ fed. bummer, ain’t it?

flipper is my favorite. sorry guys, hate to break it to ya. i have a favorite. it’s flipper. donna, you’re my second favorite. (and my second claimed sheep actually). wanda….. wanda, so far, i’m not your biggest fan.

so basically my most favorite to least favorite is from my first sheep to my third sheep, in order. flipper, donna, wanda.

___

i said i was gonna do this earlier (but i procrastinated, got stuck on youtube—i actually watched a very informative video that i do not at all regret getting distracted on—came onto tumblr to js check out if i have any notifs, and then i was tempted to keep writing about reed and cage)

but i’m gonna play minecraft now

___

[hey-hamlet]

*slides in on socks* hey can we hear more abt that bnha cult au, the one where bc mido is quirkless and the cult town thinks hes better for it

So I’m probably going to be too lazy to actually write that as a full fic, so lemme go find my brainstorming and yeet it here for you all! Under a read more bc this is long and messy.

The whole fic takes place over either 1 or 1.5 months

Quirks = route of evil, those without powers are closest to the divine's intentions and anything subverting them from that should be expunged. Closer to normal you look = purer you are. Izuku is considered near gold standard excluding his green hair

2000 people in the town - 82 are quirkless (marked with a band - where? Wrist, neck or?)

Global quirkless pop = 20% but japan is 5%, much much lower in Izuku's generation, movement has been around since the dawn of quirks - infanticide

100 people statistically would make sense but rate of quirkless births vs quirkless people is very different as many die due to poor patient care

Some members of the town are the grieving parents of people who's quirkless children were killed as doctors didn't listen to them - some of the first people izuku meet

"Hizashi's family" Invite izuku over - they aren't related, it's part of a plot where they look at quirk records to invite the quirkless to join. Those who do not are disposed of in the woods.

The quirkless are treated like royalty, free food + other stuff

Anyone not on board is killed - settlement is new but buildings are old - the prior town was chased out/killed to make room for the cult. They used to meet in normal churches but quirkless supporting cults were cracked down on so they relocated into the woods by taking over a town

Start the fic w izuku getting off the train, Town is called Rishi, based the town off Nanmoku

Mum: Miyatani Haiyu Dad: Miyatani Juzou Daughter: Miyatani Kei

Need a very secretive, insular vibe - the place has no wifi, a church radio station and a townhall

Timeline

Arival Bakugo and Izuku take the train, Bakugo is there bc his mother told him to go: Inko was worried about sending Izuku off alone so she offered up bakugo to play guard dog. Bakugo is pissed. 

Bakugo will have a blow up about being there pretty early, izuku will try and soothe him which will only make him angrier. Is shinsou there? 

Shinsou is coming as well, but later > originally going to meet up w izuku for the first time (shitty foster parents) but wants to shield him from bakugo. Izuku just wants to sleep.

Golden band for the quirkless (ribbon?) “in our town we value good fashioned hard work so we like to give back to the quirkless, this little band lets everyone know the folks we should give a little more to”

Look around town, Izuku alone (shinsou there tomorrow >> all three staying at an inn)

Meet the family, bakugo pissed right off and they talk some smack about him while izuku flounders. “bet he’s got some flashy quirk, huh? Seems like the type. Makes me sick, thinkin they're better just cause they’re -”

Bakugo goes straight to his room to be a piss baby, izuku looks around. They are setting up for a festival. A group of kids teases another with a visible mutation, she cries, izuku tells the kids off and they scatter, she says some concerning stuff izuku is concerned. 

Izuku eats dinner w the family, they talk about how they think he’s gonna like it there, the little kid is cute.

Shinsou rolls into town, they go for a hike, its pretty chill - they have a picnic n shit they have dinner w the family 

Back to room (share one), izuku fiddling w the radio to find mic’s show, find the town’s own radio, they listen: something about  someone being brought into the fold, visitors in town to be treated kindly, a reminder of a church service that week “Hold fast to your faith, the world may slip a little further each day but we shall fight together to bring our faith outwards and bring purity back to the world” 

“Wow that was weird” “Wanna do some research?” “Fuck, sure.” 

They run into bakugo at breakfast, izuku mentions the show and bakugo kinda nods, “you heard it too?” “yeah. Fuckin weird” “We were gonna do some digging -” “Fuck off, I don’t need you two messing with my shit, I’ll look into myself.” “That was almost polite for Bakugo, huh?” 

Maybe timeskip to end of week? 

With the family, doing arts craft with the daughter. Shinso is sleeping off a migraine. They mention church vaguely in the background and Izuku tries to look like he's not listening in.

The daughter brings it up to izuku and the family chuckle and say he’s free to come if he wants but there is no need to rush him.

They eat lunch, the family kinda advertise the town to him, talk about the nice quirkless girl down the street his age, how rare it is for quirkless people to be born in this generation. Izuku vaguely thinks about how nice it would be to live there

Church that night, izuku looks in on shinsou to see he's still sleeping in the dark, goes to bakugo “look i know i’m sorry but they’re having church tonight and i know you were a little interested and i was gonna go anyway -” “I’m coming with because otherwise you’ll be useless.” They decide to sneak around to listen “I was kinda -” “yeah, sure” “wait but -” “oh fuck off, it rubbed me the wrong way too. The weirdos might talk different if they know we’re there.”

Bakugo throws a darker jacket at Izuku, he slips on a beanie and they head out into the woods, walking through to reach the back of the church. They wait 20 minutes after it was supposed to start and creep out, they listen in. 

“We will purge the impure our streets, we will stop this blight and, we will enact god's wrath and spare the pure, letting relieve the purity of the past. We will strike them down in his name, let them know we are his wolves let loose upon the blinded sheep.” 

Bakugo grabs izuku’s arm, they are both pale. They go to run, and a metal sheet falls down. The preacher goes quiet and someone a few people stand and the two of them book it as fast as they can.

They get back to the inn and have a minor freak out, they wake up shinso and they are like “oh shit, oh fuck.” they decide they need proof bc the pros will never listen to them, they become baby detectives 

Bakugo going off at izuku and having the shit scared out of him by a local, izuku steps in and the local backs down instantly, all smiles

One part of the story involves them running through the festival, changing clothes and masks as much as the can to escape the people chasing them.

The cult have a gas that is toxic to anyone with the quirk factor and intend to release it all across japan, starting with their own town. The climax of the story see’s Izuku going it alone through the facility, dead and dying bodies around him, looking out for any quirkless members that will stop him as he tries to find the locations of the canisters containing the gas. 

Aizawa and Nighteye are in the town as well, Bakugo and Shinsou run to them crying ab how Izuku is all alone and they think he’s going to die and oh god they can’t even help him - 

The dumb comedy throughline in this AU is Aizawa and Nighteye have to fake having crushes on each other to explain why they are hanging out so much in secluded areas. They both hate this very much. 

Izuku, who recognized the two heroes On Sight, is having a minor crisis about them both being here and apparently getting handsy behind a 7/11.

[jubberry]

oohkay let's go tua with those ship asks: fiveya, horrance and alluther.

thanks el i love you

Send me a ship and I'll answer three questions based on if I ship it or not.

fiveya obvs i ship this since this is 90% of my tua drawings lol

1. ill wait ill wait (to be the one) by georgiestauffenberg made me ship it cause holy fuck dude. I dont know if i ship them romantically when i saw them onscreen cause first of all, age difference is kinda weird lmao. Second, they dont rlly interact much outside literally the first couple of eps. But he was so soft for her, and i felt like they had so much unexplored history.

so i looked at fanfics cause i was wondering if ppl still ship it, then i liked the description of this one so i gave it a go.

Basically the premise is that vanya dates a much older man who seems to know a lot about her. And it was amazingly in character and just provided their characters some depth that u wouldnt find outside of a romantic relationship between them. (The implication of five pining while she doesnt know who he is, their missed chances when he time travelled, fives missed chances of living and having a 'normal' life bec of his own hubris, vanyas insecurity and being able to open up bec shes with someone whos known her since childhood). Its so sweet and thats how i was like, oh yep i can do so much more with these two, and what has kept me interested in drawing them etc.

2. My favourite things are the shippers cause i made some friends in the fandom who are super cool and supportive! I dont get super involved in fandoms and usually just watch from afar so finding people to talk to and muck around with in this tiny fandom is super cool 😭

Though thats not to say I havent come across some bad apples in this fandom and things that I dont like. I think thats the importance of carving out a place for yourself and ur friends in fandom tho.

Another thing I like about the ship itself, i just like the grumpy person whos soft for one person trope. Its so cute. I like all the little clues in canon on how their relationship as kids is quite warm, which is interesting cause five is basically the star student and he can be quite cold vs vanya who is the black sheep of the family.

I also like how five likes her powers even when she caused the apocalypse he spent the majority of his life in lol. Like its a popular hc that five is just a wife guy and i love that.

I see vanya as the type who has a lot of love to give, and she sometimes has unrealistic expectations of what her partner can give. Betrayal and lies really angers her, but also when her partner cannot meet her expectations of love she gets very upset bec its also an indication of how shes not good enough, or not loveable enough to be able to have this in the relationship (her insecurity means every failing always comes back to her, even if its out of her control).

I feel like five would be a level-headed person enough in the relationship to not be afraid to say 'vanya ur being stupid' (ie. the s2 confrontation lmao). Also, five's personality means she will never have to doubt his actions bec she knows hes the type who will not give u the moment of the day if hes not interested.

Not to mention they also have the whole apocalypse vs. saviour, hero/villain thing. Theres just a lot to explore!

3. I probably have several. But mostly I dont mind five being a dick to vanya bec first, even if the appeal is hes soft to her hes already kind of a dick in canon lmao. Also, vanya isnt a child. Shes grown and she can handle petty af things like five telling her shes not good at cooking lol. I also dont mind it cause I feel like people are getting too afraid to write... conflict for fear or portraying an abusive relationship or smth. Like, chill. Conflict is fine, resolving it is how u get a story. However in saying that, nobody should be obligated to write any way unless you want to! Fanfic is for comfort so if what your doing is making u happy then its good enough!

horrance which i also ship but i love the platonic and romantic relationship equally:

1. I came in tua in general not shipping anything so Im honestly not sure. I do remember someone doing a meta before s2 came out that was basically how ben acted weird when klaus summoned dave in s1 that made me go 👀 Otherwise, tua s2 rlly made me like them cause tua FED horrance shippers. Like..... the fact that klaus didnt want ben to leave him, and ben knows thats why he stayed 😢 or the fact that klaus was all over him for some reason???? Somebody also mentioned gay ben once and I resonate with that deeply. Like i get that jill exists but i resonate with gay ben deeply.

2. I love their bickering, theyre so cute together. I just like ben being angry bec hes self aware that hes got both shit and amazing taste. Shit bec he cant believes he likes Klaus (and also amazing also bec Klaus). I think the idea of them being kind of underdogs, theyre not rlly leader types and dont want to be, helps them bond together even in platonic horrance. They're both down to earth, and even tho they can annoy each other, they also know if they want a space to feel comfortable its with each other. Theyre not pressured by rivalry over leadership, or any sort of competition.

I love the idea that even tho ben is like klaus's ''conscience'', hes also down for chaos and bitchy. I feel like klaus rlly enabled that side of him, its not exactly a good thing but its p funny lol

3. I know some people think their dynamic is unhealthy but i dont care lol

alluther. So id say i dont ship this, mostly due to the fact that im not invested? Just like all tua ships so far I rlly came out not wanting anything but platonic relationships cause I feel tua doesnt do romance very well. With alluther, theyre so cute but im not super invested in either of their chars so they havent stuck for me. I appreciate seeing them and talking about them tho, and I'm def open to exploring them further.

1. I think tua canon romances are just so lackluster 😔 Idk who writes the romances but I was just like 'nice' but afterwards I dont really think about them. I love their dance scene and the message behind it! Otherwise, theyre sweet like most of the tua romances but im not super invested, same with all the non canon ships.

2. I really feel like tua needs to decide on what their relationship is. Like, just say its incest or not and stick with it 👀 Or if you wanna support it or not, just make up ur mind. I think I would've liked it better if I found the characters more interesting. Allison especially I feel like suffers from the fact that tua just doesn't want to make her ''mean''. They want to make her supportive and are less interested in making her flawed (ie. she should've had a conflict with Vanya in s2, but the writers didnt want to write the girls fighting which is stupid imo and not what that conflict is about).

In regards to Alluther, the scene where Allison gets annoyed at Luther for sleeping with someone else felt out of line. Like, how are you marrying other people and moving on but Luther isn't allowed to? But honestly, I don't mind if they actually just acknowledge it and make it a deliberate part of Allison's trait that Allison can expect a certain loyalty automatically from other people (which can tie in to her childhood being a star, and the rumour).

Luther is a big simp for Allison, which is sweet, but at the same time it would be nice to have him explore himself for a bit, and who he is outside of the academy. Then maybe they can rekindle their relationship again as new people and see where they go from there.

3. I don't hate them, but they're ok. I'm not super invested in them, just like all the tua canon romance. But I wouldn't mind making content for them if I were a bit more invested in their characters. I love their dance scene in s1 and I feel like its super a underrated portrayal of what their relationship is meant to be. I know no one talks about it but it's just such a great scene, and I'm pretty sure the choreographer was into interpretive dance? The scene had a lot of meaning that I don't see people dig around with.

Essentially I'm pretty sure the fairy lights are obviously a throwback to their childhood together, spending time outside of Reggie. So the dance scene kind of symbolized that pocket of space they made for each other in their life (even if theyre far away, or with other people, they will always have that space for each other).

The way they danced was more like playfighting than dancing, which means their relationship isn't sensual. It's more ''pure'', and romantic. Its basically two kids rekindling their love as adults. I also think this is a response to the incest, cause in s1 tua klaus literally said that 'thank god Regg is not their real father' right before Allison and Luther meet lmao. So its kinda like saying Allison x Luther isnt supposed to be 'ohh step sibling hot' but two people who experienced the same trauma as kids and finding comfort with each other (and rekindling that love after many years).

[moonlit-han]

a sweet ride ↠ yang jeongin

genre: bad boy!jeongin, high school au, fluff word count: 3.5k warnings: swearing, mention of smoking & underage alcohol consumption, almost suggestive request: yes (yangomangos, prompt included: “Don’t cry.”) a/n: this one’s for the jeongin enthusiasts~ 

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

every morning as you wait outside your high school for classes to start

you hear the thunder of his motorcycle

it’s loud, mildly obnoxious, and occasionally spits out fumes

but you don’t care

you actually like the sound of the bike and how the vibrations rumble in ur chest

it’s a sleek black and built almost entirely by him: old chassis, long handle bars, and a satisfying growl as the engine ignites

if you stand too close when he pulls up in the parking lot in the morning, you can feel the vibrations coming through the pavement

(your mum would probably lock you in a tower only a knight could enter if she ever found out you’d been on a motorcycle

…..not that you’d been on one

yet (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)? )

the owner of that motorcycle is your high school’s one and only bad boy

♡･｡.:*.ﾟyang jeongin ﾟ.*:.｡･♡

(but please call him “I.N.” because he’s actually out of the preppy, popular crowd  ( ｀^´ ) )

he could ride that motorcycle straight through your heart and you wouldn’t care

okay maybe not your heart bc that would hurt (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

but definitely through your bedroom

that would be

f i n e (⊙‿⊙✿)

……….

all your friends cover their ears and turn away when jeongin pulls up

there isn’t a rule against a senior having a motorcycle and riding it to school

there are people who drive cars to school and that’s fine

he has a license and always wears a helmet

and he wears a thick leather jacket and heavy, black boots

(you’ve seen those boots

they look like they could stomp through concrete or smth)

there is no way he wouldn’t be safe

well, besides the fact that he rides a motorcycle

but you, still not caring, just kinda stare as he rides into the parking area in front of the school

he always does this cool lil swing into his designated “motorcycles only” spot

and then takes off his helmet

to do that fucking hair shake that you always see in movies

that can only mean “hot guy on a motorcycle”

fucking hell

oh and he then runs his fingers through his black hair

to make it appropriately ~windswept~

and, yes, he looks way too god damn hot

unnecessarily so in your humble opinion (๑`^´๑)

you almost flip your shit every morning just bc of him

he’s handsome like a fucking movie star

angled cheekbones, a defined nose and chin, a jawline so sharp it could ki— it could seriously hurt you

and don’t even start on his eyes

jeongin’s eyes are so dark you often wonder if they’re actually brown

if he looks at you in the halls, you immediately get the sense he could somehow see into your soul

and, judging by the dark aura he has, probably can

jeongin isn’t particularly horrible or anything, but he’s known throughout the school to, honestly, not give a flying fuck

about anything

he’s….a little chaotic

for example, he flouts any rule he doesn’t like

and he talks back if a teacher says something he doesn’t agree with

(this has lead to some very heated discussions in class

although, you were actually inclined to agree with him most of the time, since he usually brings up some good points and such

(it’s generally a good idea, you’ve mused on a regular basis, to treat people like human beings and not like machines only in existence to produce goods and perform services to a select few)

most of your classes are with him

and he’s really smart

like the kind of smart where he barely does any work but still passes the class with an A

i mean, who said he could do that??!!?!

who allowed such sorcery

heCk

and you know he’s passed all his courses

he may or may not occasionally smoke or drink behind the school but you know for a fact there are people who do much worse and nobody says anything about them

maybe it’s the leather

and the moodiness

but um;;;;; that’s kinda hot, you know?

you’re not really sure why people think he’s the “bad boy”...

you’ve never seen or heard him be mean or rude to anyone, so how bad can he be?

okay okay yes you’ve seen the knife hilts poking out of his boots

but who the fuck cares?!! ( • ̀ω•́ ) 

it’s not like he’s ever pulled them on anyone

that you know of

.............

OH

and you’re pretty sure he knows you kinda watch him, too

bc one day he parked his bike facing the school instead of away

and you were just ~there~ as usual

but feeling very alone and exposed

since your dumbass friends had all decided to abandon you in your hour of need by walking away just before he rode up

and then, like a herd of sheep, they all turned to watch you as he did

ahahah friends? what are they?! nah don’t need them;;;

so there you were standing out on the pavement

very obviously looking at him

w e l p  Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)

but, of course, he just had to look up

and this lil shit winked at you

actually winked

EXCUSE ME YANG JEONGIN

W H A T

;;;;;;;;;;;;

your friends teased you all day

“ooooh look it’s lover boy”

“shut up shut up shut up”

“but he just lookeD AT YOU”

“you’re lying”

“Y/N YOU FOOL”

“HHHHHHHH”

and it only gets worse from there (....um, you sure about that y/n?)

now whenever jeongin arrives in the mornings

he makes a point at looking over at you

you don’t always notice, unfortunately

and he ends up with a sad lil smile on his face bc he knows you’re having fun with your friends

but fuck!!!!

you’re just so!!! cute!!!!!

how can he not notice you??!!!

especially when you’re in all of his classes

and obviously watch for his motorcycle every morning

it makes him feel kinda cool, tbh

he’s also noticed that you like strawberries

a  l o t (≧◡≦)

as in, your backpack is a strawberry

you have strawberry pins on said strawberry backpack

your raincoat has a pattern of strawberries on it

your pencil case may or may not be a lil cat eating, yes, a strawberry

SO

jeongin being the smooth guy (he thinks) he is

gets you a strawberry sweetbread

and is all excited to give it to you

so after class on friday, he decides today’s his chance

(also, the sweetbread isn’t gonna last forever alfdjghafkgj)

aaaand you both try to walk out the door at the same time

which doesn’t work

but WOW YOU’RE NOW REALLY CLOSE TO HIM

jeongin: *vibrates*

ACTUALLY TOUCHING SHOULDERS

WHAT

…..fuck (￢_￢;)

and since when do you smell really good, too?? alkjhsjfghajhf

jeongin’s just a little overwhelmed, you know?

ANyWaY;;;;;;

y/n, blushing furiously: “oh my god sorry”

jeongin, spluttering: “no, no after you”

((oh wow his voice dropped since the last time you saw him

how is that even possible??? guys….))

after a couple tries back and forth through the doorway

(your teacher’s trying not to laugh in the background)

you finally both make it out of the classroom

and you start to speed walk away since your friends are waiting so you all can hang out

“hey, y/n!” comes down the hall after you

ALSDJHADJFLHG what ;;

you turn around quickly to find jeongin standing right behind you

“um, so i noticed you really like strawberries”

e x c u s e  m e (O_O);;;

first of all:

yang jeongin—your school’s super hot bad boy, the guy you’re only a little obsessed with bc he rides a motorcycle, the inexplicably brilliant student, and total badass—just spoke to you

WHAT

((really, Y/N?? r e a l l y?????))

second of all:

he’s holding something wrapped in absolutely adorable cat (and strawberry) wrapping paper

that’s completely against his aesthetic

but matches yours to a tee ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

huh….

“y/n?” *holds out package*

you have to mentally shake yourself a little

but you’re back now

hhhHHHH

“me?”

“Yeah, I got you this. I hope you like it.” (●´ω｀●)

“thanks?” you say a bit lamely

you take the package and get a whiff of sweetbread

s w e e t b r e a d!!!! (*♡∀♡)

ajfhakljfhgjdsfgh your fav

you’d half expected jeongin to blast on outta there asap

but now he’s just standing in front of you, just kinda shifting back and forth

wait…is he nervous??

you slowly unwrap the package, careful not to damage the wrapping paper

(you are so going to reuse it or hang it on the wall or something ajdsdjfg)

and inside is a rounded sweetbread with strawberries delicately placed on top amongst swirls of pink icing

you gasp quietly

fucking hell it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

jeongin’s just watching you, a small smiling spreading across his face

(which you don’t notice bc  b r e a d)

you take a small bite of the treat and

。*:゜♡ヽ(*’∀’*)/♡゜:。*。

IT’S SOOOOO GOOD!!!!

you take another bite before looking up at jeongin and you finally see his smile

( ◡‿◡ ♡) (♡‿♡) (*♡∀♡)

it’s actually the best thing you’ve ever seen

there’s so much genuine happiness, and just a hint of mischievous mirth, in his smile

you feel like you’re looking into the sun, it’s so bright

why did jeongin, of all people get you, of all people, a sweetbread?

jeongin, completely unable to look cool anymore and shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet: “is it good?”

“OH MY GOD YES!!!”

and then you do something you never thought you’d do

ever

in the whole world ever

you throw your arms around yang jeongin’s neck

and give him a really big hug

his arms come up and around you to hug you back almost immediately,

which you were expecting even less than your own actions

but his hug is wonderful, even if he’s holding you like fine china

in a moment, you remember yourself and quickly step back

jeongin is blushing so much that he looks like a strawberry

(so good you just wanna eat him up (◕‿◕))

((y/n pls,,,,, not here....))

and you know you’re blushing just as much

you splutter an apology and run off down the hallway

and because you’re running off,

you don’t notice that jeongin is staring after

like a lovesick puppy (◕︵◕)

your friends are all over you about the sweetbread

bc they love it too

but you just say that you forgot you’d brought it with you that day

for some reason, you didn’t want to tell about your encounter with jeongin

when you get home, you savor the sweetbread,

remembering the warmth of jeongin’s smile~

the next friday, you’re outside at the picnic tables during lunch

it’s an absolutely beautiful day, with a light breeze~ (⌒ω⌒)

against the better judgement and fervent suggestions of your friends

you decide that it’s a great idea to get on top of one the tables

and dance

why?

someone had started playing ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”

no one can resist that song

so you’re having the time of your life

just dancing around on the table that your friends have since vacated bc they

a) don’t want to get kicked in the head, and

b) feel quite embarrassed to associate with you while you’re like this

......traitors (๑`^´๑)

and as anyone with an ounce of sense does when dancing to ABBA

you occasionally close your eyes in happiness

and suddenly you’ve stepped into air

your heart lurches and your eyes fly open 

and your mind goes completely blank with panic

but you never reach the ground

you’re now surrounded by the smell of leather, metal, and.....

boy

someone had saved you from falling

the arms holding you are strong and well-muscled

and, surprisingly, comfortable

“i’ve got you,” a voice murmurs

you look up into the face of none other than jeongin

(⊙__⊙✿) 

welp

you think to yourself “what... i thought he didn’t care about people??”

((nope y/n, he cares about YOU bc you’re the cutest and so lovely))

he smirks down at you, then sets you back down on the ground

“try to be more careful. okay, y/n?” he says, smoothing a wayward piece of your hair, then just walks off

you blush

(this seems to be becoming a common occurrence with jeongin)

and just stand there, dumbfounded

as jeongin saunters away to sit under a tree at the far end of the lawn

it’s a good saunter, and the tight, black skinny jeans only help (⊙ __ ⊙);;;;

your friends rush you, asking if you’re okay and asking what was up with jeongin

you say that you have no idea

......although, that’s not entirely true

since you now have a sneaking suspicion that *gasp* jeongin might have a crush on you?

maybe??

(hopefully!! (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)?) 

your friends just continue dithering as you stare at jeongin, who’s watching you right back

he winks

ALKJSDHGAKLDJFGADJKFGBADJF

you really wish he’d stop doing that bc it’s making your heart pound like a herd of horses and now yOu CAn’t EveN THinK

FUCK!!

later that day as school’s letting out

jeongin comes up to you, leather jacket slung over his shoulder

he’s got on a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple times

and ooooooh my

you’d never noticed before

(well, besides during lunch when he caught you)

but yang jeongin has really nice arms

and pecs (⊙‿⊙)  

and now you’re staring (oh fuck,,,,, not again)

“uh;;;; hi, jeongin!” you manage to squeak out alkdjfhsldjf

“hey, i was wondering if you wanted a ride”

eXCusE Me wHAt??? ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃)

“on the motorcycle. i have an extra helmet, since my sister sometimes rides with me”

O H 

your mouth takes control before you even have time to think

“sure! i’d love to!!”

a minute later, you’re standing in front of that sleek, black motorcycle that you’ve admired for months

the young man riding it helps the matter quite a lot, too

there’s even this little carrier container on the back of the bike that he puts his (small) backpack into

he reaches out for yours and stows it

then, jeongin hands you a helmet with lime green racing stripes on its sides

you briefly wonder if his sister is anything like him

probably

“have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?” jeongin asks

you shake your head, unable to speak bc you’re so excited and also kinda nervous

your mom’s words fly through your head

don’t you dare get on a motorcycle, y/n. ever. don’t you dare! they’re too dangerous by half and— well, if i ever find out you’ve been on one, you won’t be allowed out of the house, except for going to school, for a month. you mark my words, y/n! (; ･`д･´)

you promptly ignore her voice in your head and slid the helmet down over your head

the world suddenly becomes slightly more vibrantly colored as the visor shields your eyes

jeongin had swung his long legs over the bike, straddling it with his feet still on the ground

“so, the important thing is to stay in line with me. what i mean is that if i lean to one side or the other, you’ve gotta lean with me. otherwise, we’ll fall over and that really wouldn’t be good. just hold on tight to my waist and, sorry i don’t mean to sound rude, but please don’t scream.”

jeongin looks only a little rueful as he says that

but you don’t blame him

you wouldn’t want someone screaming in your ears as you tried to concentrate either

“okay, right. lean with you. hold on tight,” you say

jeongin sits down, one foot still on the ground, and pats the seat behind him

“come on! take a seat—i promise you’ll be fine, y/n”

tentatively, you clamber onto the motorcycle behind jeongin

and wrap your arms around his waist

you can feel . . .

holy shit his abs feel like a fucking washboard

ExCuSE mE?????!!!! (＠_＠)

heCk

((y/n, pls. calm down;;; we know he’s got muscles))

so um,,,, yeah

it’s really actually quite comfy to lean against his back

but then hen he lays his hands over yours

and looking back over his shoulder says, “ready, babe?

B A B E

HHHHHHHHHHHH

***y/n has officially malfunctioned***

damn tho

this boy is bold as fuck

wow

you’re not exactly complaining

bc you now know that you like being called “babe”

it makes you feel special (✿◠‿◠)

and you like how it sounds coming from jeongin

you can tell jeongin is grinning under his helmet

“yep, i’m ready,” you manage to say

and then you feel and hear the thunder of the engine igniting

it’s exhilarating and you hadn’t even started moving yet

jeongin yells over the engine “hold on!”

in one smooth motion he kicks the kickstand up, brought his foot off the ground, released the brake and clutch

and then...

and then you feel like you’re flying

even though you’re not going 70 mph (113 kph)

the wind tears at your clothes

making you feel freer than you’d ever felt before~

you thought you’d guessed what it would feel like to ride on a motorcycle

but even your wildest imaginings couldn’t come close to reality

you hold on tightly to jeongin’s waist, feeling every shift of his body as he guides the motorcycle along the roads surrounding your school

all too soon you find yourself back in the parking lot of your high school

you don’t release your hold on jeongin until after he’s shut off the engine

jeongin takes off his helmet, shaking his hair as usual, and hangs it on a handlebar

then he turns on the seat

you lean back

but jeongin reaches out and gently removes your helmet to place it on the seat between the two of you

even without touching it, you could feel that your hair was mussed

so you shake out your hair, too

and immediately understand why jeongin does it

you feel strangely powerful and a bit sexy

it’s a fun, new feeling

jeongin smiles like you’re the loveliest flower he’s ever seen

and, for the second time that day, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear

“how was it?” he asks, a look of concern on his face

you beam, feeling infinitely more at ease around jeongin

“amaaaaazing!”

“yeah? oh, don’t cry, y/n”

“what? oh” you realize that you are, indeed, crying

you wipe the tears from your face

after all, they’re just tears of happiness

“jeongin, it was incredible, oh my god. can we do it again? please?”

he laughs, throwing his head back 

and you glimpse the dimple at the base of his throat

“maybe another day, babe” jeongin concedes

you pout

“oh, okay. thank you”

there’s a look in jeongin’s eyes that you can’t quite place

is it sadness? fondness? desire?

he exhales, then the corner of his mouth quirks up

you feel the warmth of his fingers caress your cheek

“y/n, may i kiss you?”

***yet again, we regret to inform you that y/n has malfunctioned***

what the ever loving flipping fuck

d— did jeongin just,,,,

did he?

ALKJHGALKJFHG;AKLHFGAKLJGHKAJH

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” jeongin says in a rush, dropping his hand

shit.

SHIT!

“no no no!! it’s fine, yes. please. that’s fine. that would be— that would nice. yes, very nice.”

wow you sounded almost hysterical

“good,” jeongin says simply

and leans in to softly press his lips to yours

you immediately kiss him back

and feel him smile against your mouth

just a moment later, he draws back, respectful, a question in his eyes

you chase his lips, not wanting to waste the precious opportunity to actually be kissing the yang jeongin!!

his hands come up to cup your neck

and you rest your palm against his chest, feeling the trembling beat of his heart

he tastes like like elderberry and cinnamon and clove all wrapped into one intoxicating milieu 

you could kiss him for days and never tire

after what seems like hours, you break apart

“y/n,” jeongin begins

“oh just shut up and keep kissing me,” you say without hesitation, surprised at your own boldness (again)

it seemed that was becoming a habit around jeongin, too

he doesn’t bother responding

and, instead, kisses you until you’re breathless

again, you feel like you were flying

* . ∗ ̥ ⋆ ݃ *♡٩( ｡⌒▽⌒｡)۶♡* ݃ ⋆ ̥∗ . *

[nanoland]

Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

main characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve/Michael 

summary: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet. 

warnings: Violence, gun violence, trauma, dehumanization, outdoor sex. 

0 

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?” 

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.” 

0 

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”

0 

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?” 

0 

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep. 

0

It was night when he awoke.  

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?” 

0 

Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.

Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.

At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.

Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.

Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.

It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.

Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.

If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?

And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?

And later: Why is nothing fair?

And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?

“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”

Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.

Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.

“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.

Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”

The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.

Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”

“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”

Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”

His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”

Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”

“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.

“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”

“Kapish,” he muttered.

The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.

“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.

Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”

“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”

“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”

She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.

Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.

Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.

She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.

Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.

“It is beneath her,” he muttered.

She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”

There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.

“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”

More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.

Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”

The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.

“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.

“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”  

One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.

The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.

When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.

“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.

Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.

“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”

“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”

“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”

The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.

“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”

Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”

By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.

“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”

After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”

Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.

Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”

“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.” 

0 

Bombshell curls. The only way to celebrate victory.

“Should I even ask why your hair smells like burning plastic?” asked Britney, a sixty-four year old veteran stylist with spectacles and a bright blue bob. She’d worked in Hollywood since she was seventeen and her skilled hands, according to rumour, had tended to Viola Davis herself.

Mazikeen flipped through a magazine with the hand that wasn’t getting its nails painted red-gold by two assistants down on their knees, as intensely focused as if they were touching up The Last Supper. “Blew up some jet skis. Don’t worry about it.”

Picking up the curling iron, Britney said, “That handsome guy you and Eve came in with… new boyfriend?”

“Ha! No. Not in a million years. He’s my intern.”

Eve had only wanted a trim and, as soon as it was done, had dragged Michael away to shop for books and shoes. She was trying, without much subtlety, to work out what he liked; what he did for fun; if he was even capable of having fun. Waste of time, in Mazikeen’s opinion, especially considering that before the end of the week he’d probably run away to some dark hole where he could get back to wallowing in his bitterness. But maybe not. Eve clearly had hope and Mazikeen trusted her judgement.

As the assistants moved on to her other hand, her phone buzzed.

Glancing up to meet Britney’s gaze in the mirror, Mazikeen said, “Get that for me? My nails are wet and it’s probably Eve. Word’s got out what happens to all other humans who call me on a Saturday.”

The older woman’s blue eyebrows bounced as she picked up the phone. “Might be that tasty boss of yours!”

“Nope,” she muttered, old unhappiness flaring hot in her heart. “He only ever calls when he wants me to do something and right now, there’s nothing he can’t do himself.”

Britney held the phone up in front of her face.

There was a message from Linda.

Charlie’s missing his Auntie Maze – see u for dinner Tuesday? J <3

“Uh – are you crying?” asked Britney.

“No!” she snapped. “Just… shut up. Reply for me. Say yes. And add a knife emoji. I always use knife emojis.”

Just then, a white woman with long brown hair and skinny jeans strode purposefully into the salon.

Britney tutted and held up a hand. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Ms Smith has booked the entire…”

She trailed off as the woman’s eyes flashed red.

“Chantinelle,” Mazikeen greeted, spinning the chair round and crossing her legs regally. “It’s okay, Britney. She’s a friend. Well – an ally.”

Gravel-voiced, like she smoked heavily, the other demon drawled, “I’m touched, your great and gracious Majesty.”

Mazikeen snickered. “Bitch, get over here.”

With a smirk, Chantinelle marched over and planted a fierce kiss on her cheek.

“What news from Hell?” Mazikeen asked her sister.

Chantinelle briefed her while Britney and the others finished up her curls and manicure. They spoke in Lilim, Chantinelle parking her denim-clad butt on the vanity next to an arsenal of combs and keeping one eye on the door. She’d already tried twice to convince Mazikeen that a queen needed a bodyguard, to no avail.

When their meeting was concluded, Britney said, “So you’re from Holland, right? Oh! It’s a lovely country. My cousin lives there and she’s always telling me to visit.”

(Britney knew they weren’t from Holland. Britney knew they weren’t from Earth. Britney was one of those people who coped with uncomfortable realities like demons in her workplace by ignoring them.)

“Will you be coming home soon?” Chantinelle asked before she left.

Studying her reflection – avoiding her sister’s gaze – Mazikeen said, “Mmm. Yeah. Soon. Just got a few things to finish up here.”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long. The family misses you. I mean – it’s been years, y’know?”

“I know. I do.”

“I didn’t know you had a family,” Britney commented after Chantinelle had gone. “How come you never talk about them?”

Mazikeen handed over a wad of blood-spattered cash. “Eh. After a while, I figured out that nobody likes it when I do.”

She began making her way across the mall to Eve’s favourite shoe shop, then stopped when she approached the arcade and heard her girlfriend’s laugh over the beeps and buzzes of various games.

Unsurprised, she wandered in and found her on the Dance Dance Revolution platform, barefoot and skirt twirling as she beat the shit out of someone’s high score, surrounded by a crowd of cheering, applauding onlookers.

Michael stood off to the side, clutching three bulging shopping bags and looking mortified.

“I couldn’t stop her,” he hissed to Mazikeen. “What the hell? What the actual hell? I thought you were trying to maintain a reputation on this crummy rock! What’re your enemies going to think if this is how your allies behave in public?”

“I figure they’ll think something like, ‘Oh my God, she’s tapping that? I am going to literally die of jealousy’,” Mazikeen said, kicking off her stilettos and handing them to him. “Go fetch us some bottled water, wimp. We’ll be here for a while.”

Eve’s competitor on the adjacent platform yelped as Mazikeen shoved him off and took his place.

“Hi, pretty lady,” said Eve, her eyes sparkling. “You know I’ve been dancing for millions of years, right?”

Mazikeen grinned at her and tossed back her bombshell curls. “Bring it, beautiful.”  

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Michael blush bright red. 

0 

What was he doing here?

“We are fifteen miles over the speed limit!”

Mazikeen cackled and drove faster. In the seat beside her, Eve punched the air and turned up the radio until Michael thought Rihanna’s voice would burst even his divine eardrums. (Contrary to his brother’s accusations, he did, in fact, enjoy some types of music. Just not when it was loud or fast-paced.)

“May I remind you of a crucial fact?” he demanded, having to shout to be heard. “It’s not me who’ll die if this thing flips! Angel, remember? You two are the ones who’ll be splattered all over the road! Hello? Is anybody listening to me?”

“I’m a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine,” Mazikeen sang.

The desert outside the cherry-red convertible they’d stolen in Las Vegas was a sickening blur and he hated it. Not that he’d never travelled this fast – though he was slower than just about all his siblings in the air, he could still outpace a jet. But flying under his own power couldn’t be compared to being trapped in this hideous human death trap under the command of a demon and a madwoman.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, this time to himself, gripping his seatbelt with both hands like it was the neck of an angry serpent. “Whatever happens. Even if we crash. They’ll die. I’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” called Eve, turning to look at him, squinting. “Are you really not having fun? Maze! Slow down! He’s not having fun.”

Mazikeen groaned but brought them back to a less terrifying percentage of light speed, while Eve undid her seatbelt and climbed into the back with Michael.

He sputtered. “Jesus H. Christ – you’re not supposed to do that while the vehicle is moving. Rules exist for a reason, goddammit.”

“I’m sorry we freaked you out,” Eve told him, with… confusing sincerity.

None of his siblings had ever apologised for frightening him, Lucifer least of all (“Aww – don’t be so nervous, brother!” and a golden laugh from the brave, adventurous Morningstar after he’d enticed Michael to fly with him into a hurricane for fun and the noise and sight of it had made his twin cry).

When Michael was young, he’d assumed that was because apologies were for lesser beings, like mortals – except that when he’d discovered his latent talent for underhanded pranks, his siblings had all turned around and demanded apologies from him. The pranks had become progressively mean-spirited after that.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop – for the punchline – he said, carefully, “It’s fine.”

The wind had blown Eve’s hair all over the place. As she brushed it out of her eyes, he was reminded that today she’d chosen to wear one of her thin white summer dresses, this one low-cut enough to make it clear that that was all she was wearing.

Now mischievous, she winked at him. “But you know… if I made a habit of following those rules you like so much, I’d still be married and bored out of my mind. Wanna kiss?”

He nearly jumped out of the car.

“Uh,” he croaked.

His gaze flickered past Eve’s inquisitive face to the back of Mazikeen’s head. How long did he have? How many milliseconds left before she turned around and tore out his throat in a fit of frenzied jealousy?

“Hell, yeah!” Mazikeen cheered, throwing up the horns. “One of you take a picture for me. Or, better yet, move over so I can see you in the rear view mirror.”

Eve’s chin tilted downwards as she examined Michael. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like he’s into it. Er – yikes. Actually, I think he’s gonna throw up. Might wanna pull over, babe.”

“I’m not going to throw up! I just need… just need air. Could you sit back for a moment?” he hissed.

She did so and he got his breathing under control. Crap, his shoulder hurt so much today.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fidgeting. “I didn’t mean to-…”

“Is this because of him?” Michael snarled, suddenly furious.

“What?”

“Him! Lucifer! He dumped you, yeah? And now you’re – what, trying to get back at him by hitting on me? Or is it just because I look like him so I’m the best substitute you can get, or-…”

She slapped him.

It hurt.

(It really did. What? Since when did getting hit by mortals hurt?)

Mazikeen whistled approvingly.

“No,” said Eve, half-growling. “I’m not like that. I don’t use people like that, Michael.”

He touched the part of his face where her skin had met his. It felt hot. Tingly. He swallowed. “Um – right. Got it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The anger in her eyes subsided. “Good. Now, would you like to kiss me or not? It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’ll still be part of the team. This is just for fun.”

Feeling oafish and off-kilter, he gestured at Mazikeen. “Won’t she mind?”

“Nope!” Mazikeen volunteered without hesitation.

Eve, exasperated, huffed, “I already asked her if she’d mind. Do you really think I’d put the offer on the table if I hadn’t? Whatever they say about me in the Silver City, I’m neither frivolous nor disloyal. I didn’t go behind Adam’s back when I fell in love with your brother; I told him to his face what I was doing.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that.”

“Because he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. Adam was a decent man who didn’t love me at all. But Maze does, and I love her, and we’ve decided this is something we’re both okay with.”

“Yeah, most demons are poly,” Mazikeen told him. “As long as everyone’s on board and on the same page, you can hook up with whoever you like.”

“Last chance: kiss or no kiss?” said Eve.

She was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. His chest felt tight. “I don’t like ultimatums.”

“Okay. How about wagers? I bet you anything I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met. Or requests? Please, please kiss me, Michael. Or-…”

She was so warm. Her breath flowing into his mouth felt like drinking hot chocolate on a Winter’s night, sugary heat poured down his throat and filling up his whole chest.

His bones seemed to melt. He slid down the seat, half-pushed, until he lay almost flat with her on top of him, cradling his face in her hands, her thumbs making slow, comforting circles on his jaw.

“Ghnnff-fu-fuck,” he slurred.

That he was hard, and had been hard ever since he’d noticed how low-cut her dress was, seemed almost irrelevant in the face of far more interesting observations, like the soft grunts she made or the way her breasts felt pressed tight against him, until she slid a thigh between his legs.

He cried out. Arched.

“There you go,” she purred against his neck.

Elegant and effortless, she took off her shoes and her panties, and slid down onto his cock with a soft, fluttering sigh. Grabbed his hand and raised it to cover one of her nipples.

Just before he came, he opened his eyes and gazed up, and the sun had moved behind her, draining all but her edges of definition, and the wind had picked up her hair again and sent it billowing up and out, like dark wings. Like his wings.

“Michael! Ah!”

The car stopped.

“Huh,” said Mazikeen. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

She pointed. Panting, they both followed her finger.

Across the sky, from one horizon to the next, the clouds had arranged themselves into the words

I LOVE YOU DETECTIVE !!!!

-LM

“Oh, crud,” said Eve. 

0 

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?” 

0 

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”  

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda. 

0  

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[deniigi]

I WOULD LOVE A DAVE FIC !!!

Excellent. Here’s for you and  @dudewhereismy-tardis

I am putting most of it under the cut because it is LONG

Dave (Daredevil copycat from Inimitable Verse) POV. Reminder that Dave is not his real name, but one given to him disdainfully by Wade in this verse.

Title: rises in the east

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

“Dad.”

What?

“Dad.”

What time was it?

“Your phone’s ringing,” Charlie said. “It’s the boss.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Give it here,” Dave rasped, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Mom said you’re gonna hurt your back sleepin’ on the couch,” Charlie reported as she shoved his phone into his palm.

“My couch, my rules,” Dave said. He crammed the phone to his ear. “Ansel here,” he said.

Charlie wanted to stay home and if she was a year older, Dave would have let her. But alas. The last time he’d let her stay home, she’d texted her friend Jesse who had become unspeakably jealous and had appealed to her own parents for such freedoms, and now the whole block thought that Dave recklessly abandoned his daughter when he went to the goddamn grocery store.

All that for a can of Sprite, man.

This neighborhood was off the fuckin’ charts sometimes.

Case in point: Dani standing in front of him in the lobby with her hands on her hips, telling him that he needed to wear a tighter t-shirt or to start flexing because they were losing business.

“Dani, I’m an instructor,” he reminded her. “I’m hired to do classes.”

“It’s two hours,” Dani said. “Take the damn fliers.”

But he didn’t want to?

Dani blinked at him slowly from under her headband.

 --

 Charlie was having a great time and Dave was glad for that because he was not. He was being stared at by every person in the street as if they’d never seen a dude with muscles before.

It was the shirt.

He knew it was the shirt.

And possibly his nipples. Smashing the brochures high enough against his chest to cover them wasn’t going well and the highlighter teal underarmor Dani had forced upon him left very little to the imagination here.

There wasn’t anything else to do but let the poor things live their best lives.

“Dad, gimme more,” Charlie said.

She tugged at the brochures covering what was left of his dignity.

Blessed child, who hurt you?

“Where did the others go?” he asked her.

Charlie pointed across the road to a gaggle of ladies leaning out from their stoop, smiling.

Ah.

Yes.

Them.

“Let’s try for someone who looks more like a bro,” he told his offspring.

Charlie blinked up at him.

“Why?” she asked.

Oh, baby.

“Because they’re an easy mark,” he said. “Go up and say ‘my dad can take you’ and send ‘em my way, okay?”

Charlie’s face went from confused to ready to kill instantly.

This was her game face. This was her ‘I’m gonna wreck this goalee’s teeth’ face.

Dave shouldn’t have been proud of her, really; her teachers said that she was becoming argumentative and obstinate in the classroom. But there was just something there in the fact that his kid sure as shit wasn’t no sheep that made his chest feel big, wide, and full of hot air.

“I’m on it,” Charlie said.

He gave her three brochures and let her scramble off to the other side of the sidewalk and then turned to meet the eye of a family with a father with neat hair and the beginnings of triceps peeking out from under his sleeves.

“You lookin’ for a gym, sir?” he asked.

The guy looked his way and eyed him up.

He took a flier on his way past.

 --

 “Excuse me?”

“One second, man,” Dave said, doing the rock-shuffle to keep all the fliers on the table from blowing away.

“Excuse me.”

“Hey, I said just a sec,” Dave snapped.

He turned back and found himself staring into the dark eyes of a bald man with olive skin and deep wrinkles in his forehead.

And Dave knew him.

Holy shit.

Dave knew him.

Fuck.

God.

Jesus, Lord.

“I am so sorry,” he started.

“DAD.”

Ch—Charlie?

He looked down and sure enough, holding Rudolph ‘Diamond’ De Luca’s massive bearpaw was his very own daughter. De Luca made her wiry, suntanned limbs seem like unbaked pretzels.

He was so much bigger than he’d seemed on TV all those years ago.

“This your kid?” De Luca asked.

Jesus.

“She is. I’m so sorry,” Dave said, “Did she—she didn’t bite you or anything, did she?”

“Dad,” Charlie whined. “Don’t tell ‘im that.”

“I’ll pay for whatever damage—” Dave continued.

De Luca blinked at him impossibly slowly with long dark eye lashes. He turned his face slowly back down towards Charlie.

“You sure this is your old man?” he asked.

Wh—

Wait.

What the hell did that mean?

“That’s him,” Charlie moaned. “He’s just bein’ dumb. Dad. Stop bein’ dumb. This dude’s the real deal. He’ll fight you in a heartbeat.”

Dave grabbed his child before she could cause any more damage. She made a fuss, but let go of De Luca’s mitt. Dave shoved her behind him, just in case this situation got any more tense than it needed to be.

De Luca lifted an eyebrow at that and then brought his face back up to Dave’s.

“Who’s gym?” he asked.

What?

Oh.

“Spitfire,” Dave said. “We’re, uh, just about there, on the—”

“I know where you’re about,” De Luca said.

Dave didn’t know what to say. De Luca held his eye.

Oh, god.

This wasn’t going well.

“How old are you, son?” De Luca asked.

FFFFFFFFFFFffffffffffffuck.

“38,” Dave said.

“And your baby girl?” De Luca asked, gesturing with his chin down at Charlie.

“I’m 12,” Charlie told him brightly.

“Hm,” De Luca said.

He shifted his weight back and wrapped a few fingers around his chin, surveying Dave’s whole body like he was the statue of David with a knee injury.

Dave became intimately aware of his nipples again.

“Not bad,” De Luca said.

Oh, thank god.

“Thank you, sir,” Dave said. “Is there, uh, somethin’ I could help you with?”

“You got an accent,” De Luca noted.

Uh?

“A good accent,” De Luca said. “Whereabouts did you grow up?”

Oh.

Well.

Dave could actually just point to it from here. The condo was still standing, despite all building codes and actual alien invasions. At this point, the only thing that was gonna take it down were the rampant, rapidly mutating, borderline feral gangs of chickens that roamed its halls.

Not that anyone spoke about them.

No, that was inviting trouble to your doorstep.

“The chicken coop?” De Luca said.

The one and only.

“Bless you, you poor fuck.”

Yeah, that tended to be the usual reaction.

De Luca laughed.

“You’re a funny guy, uh,” he squinted at Dave’s nametag, “Ansel?”

How could a word sound so wrong in someone’s mouth?

Where had Dave’s life gone wrong that his own name sounded so foreign and distant to his ears?

“Actually,” he said, swallowing, “My uh, my friends call me ‘Dave.’”

De Luca’s head snapped right up and slowly, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh, now, that’s a good name for ya,” he said. “You look like a Davy.”

Hng.

Diamond De Luca thought he looked like a ‘Davy.’

Diamond De Luca thought he looked like a ‘Davy.’

Welp.

Time to get that birth certificate changed.

“Listen, Davy,” De Luca said casually, “Your baby girl there was tellin’ me that your boss has you out here like dancin’ monkey; is that true?”

Fffffffffff.

Technically yes?

“It’s even his day off,” Charlie whispered.

Dave wrapped a hand over her face.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It happens. Folks’ve been sick lately. I don’t normally do this kinda thing.”

De Luca’s face said that that was real cute. Real, real cute, honey.

“Well,” he said, “Let’s just say it like this. Where you work don’t gotta be where you train.”

Oh.

Was he offering--?

“If you decide to drop by, tell the guy at the desk Rudy sent you,” De Luca said. “Your kid’s real sweet, Davy. She can come too, lord knows the damn place is a daycare at this point.”

“Thank? You?” Dave stuttered.

“Don’t mention it,” De Luca said.

He left. Dave watched him waltz down the block and wave at the gals collected on the stoop at the end of it and felt a little lightheaded.

“Dad?”

Not right now, champ.

“Dad? Is he famous or somethin’?”

HHHHHHHHHHNG.

 --

 Back when Dave had been 14 and scraping the tips of his fingers into callouses on the old guitar he’d found tossed into a dumpster in the Upper West Side, he’d had to compete with the sound of the couple fighting in the apartment next door and with the radio the old man downstairs always had playing on his fire-escape window.

The old man downstairs was a real hard-ass. Always slammed a broom into the ceiling, scaring the shit out of Mom and Dad and sister and auntie. Dave had never seen him not smoking, nor had he ever seen him without suspenders.

The man was a retired plumber, apparently. And while Jim Beam was his main vice, his passion was boxing.

To the tune of chords picked out of an out-of-tune guitar, Dave had listened to tinny commentators oohing and awing over match after match, until finally, when sleep wouldn’t come one night, Dave had snuck out of the room he’d shared with Flora. He’d settled down on the living room couch, next to his old man splayed out in the recliner.

Dad had lifted his eyes slowly his way and told him that he should have been in bed.

Dave had told him that he couldn’t sleep because the couple next door was makin’ up from their daily afternoon argument and Dad had just sighed.

He’d let Dave stay up with him and the TV in the living room had fuzzed and rattled away, making sounds really familiar to Dave at that point.

Boxing was a sport that he had, up until that night, left to his father. But for the lack of anything else to talk about that wouldn’t make his dad look at him with disappointment in his eyes for all that damn music-playin’ and eyeliner, he’d asked who the guy on the screen was.

And that was how he’d learned about Diamond De Luca.

About Kenny Varga. Bert ‘The Albatross’ Kleinfeld.

But there was one guy who Dad had mentioned was his favorite rookie and, now it felt both kind of silly and surreal that the name had been spoken so casually in Dave’s home growing up.

Dad had been puttin’ money on Battlin’ Jack Murdock back when Dave had been a little kid.

He told Dave, disappointedly, after a few weeks of Dave getting up at 12:30 to come out and watch boxing with him that he’d really thought that Murdock was gonna be the next big thing.

Guy was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Dad had said, shaking his head. But wolves that got too wily got put down and Battlin’ Jack had been found in an alley, bled out in the arms of his reason for fighting.

Dad said it was a fuckin’ shame that Murdock had gone out with a slug in his head.

A fuckin’ shame, he said.

Dave didn’t remember him every saying that Murdock’s reason for fighting was a blind ten-year-old, but the thought was now merged with that memory.

That, in itself, was merged with the memory of Dave’s phone ringing one night was Addie’s name on the Caller ID. Her voice was shaking when she told Dave that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just called her from an unknown number.

He had their baby.

He’d snatched her and Jesse out of the arms of two men looking for girls to be used in businesses Dave didn’t want to think about.

He’d saved them.

The devil had heard their screams when no one else had and he’d come flying out of the dark.

He’d held the girls in the light of a bodega and he’d coached Charlie through typing Addie’s number into his phone and then he’d taken it from there.

Addie was too scared to go meet the devil on her own. Mason hadn’t been around yet and so Dave had thrown on his shoes and had meet her on 46th.

The devil was on 48th, swinging his boots with both girls in his lap.

They were all singing. The devil had pretended like he didn’t know the words to Britney Spears’s ‘Toxic.’

Matt Murdock was under that mask.

Knowing that this whole time, he’d been the one dragging a stick against the fences and bricks of Hell’s Kitchen was almost impossible to digest.

And Dave had worked with him now.

He’d seen that smirk and that notorious jaw unwrapped from its red armor and that didn’t make reconciling the murdered boxer’s son with the man who’d saved his daughter any easier.

Charlie hadn’t remembered him.

She thought that Matt Murdock was a weird fuckin’ dude, and granted, he was a weird fuckin’ dude, but Dave had to say: he was grateful.

Matt Murdock not only brought home his baby, but he’d given Dave purpose in a life that had become consumed by the daily grind.

Matt Murdock had smiled in his direction, never quite into his eyes, and he’d passed along the baton with next to no fight.

Dave wasn’t him.

Dave would never be him.

Matt Murdock wasn’t just some poor murdered boxer’s blind son. He was the product of some serious poverty. Some serious violence. A whole fuckin’ cult induction, if he was to be believed. And Dave wasn’t so sure if he was always to be believed.

But he still appreciated Matt Murdock for what he’d done and what he’d made for this part of the city.

He’d made Daredevil.

And he shared that with Dave.

Dave’s own dad’s approval hadn’t felt like the honor that had come with Matt Murdock’s covered eyes and curled lip slowly relaxing as he’d lifted his face up from Dave’s knees.

He hadn’t been inspecting.

He’d been listening. Dipping his fingers into the blood in Dave’s heart and deciding if he was worth his salt.

Matt Murdock, son of Battlin’ Jack Murdock, was a product of Fogwell’s Gym in the Kitchen.

Diamond De Luca, retired heavyweight, was a product of Fogwell’s Gym.

The stars had aligned. And Dave had stood in their path.

And he wasn’t wasting the chance that they offered him.

--

Charlie was stoked to be allowed to come to the gym with him. She usually went to Jesse’s house, where Rubes would look after both girls for a few hours.

But De Luca had said that it was okay for her to come along, and so he figured, why not?

Fogwell’s was an institution in the Kitchen. All kids deserved to know their own history.

“I’m gonna fight Fogwell himself,” Charlie announced halfway down the block.

“You will not,” Dave told her. “Because I’m not tryin’ to get thrown out before we even get started here, alright?”

Charlie whined.

He ignored it.

 --

 This wasn’t the first time he’d been to the gym. Matt Murdock slipped in and out of it when he was in the city and he’d taken the whole team there once or twice. But it was different to be there in the presence of the daytime crew.

Dave felt very small in their presence.

The whole place was full of people pounding bags and swearing and shouting at kids who were tumbling all over the rows of benches set off to the side of the bags.

It was not what Dave had been expecting.

He told the guy at the front that ‘Rudy’ had recommended that he stop by and got a nod and a wave.

“He’s probably upstairs,” the receptionist said. “Go pick a bag, I’ll give him a buzz.”

 --

 Charlie refused to join the kids on the benches because apparently that was ‘only for babies, Dad.’ She wanted to hold the bag.

She was not, in one thousand years, holding the bag.

Dave wrapped her hands and let her go at it first to ‘soften it up’ for him.

De Luca caught him adjusting the demon-child’s thumbs before they ended up at the hospital again and laughed.

“Davy-boy, you made it,” he said.

Dave snapped up straight to attention.

“I did,” he said.

De Luca laughed again.

“Relax, kid,” he said. “Damn, you’re tight wound. Don’t worry, we won’t tell no one you’re sleepin’ with the enemy.”

Ahahahaha.

Please don’t.

These people were jacked. Dave was but a kickboxing instructor.

“Here, bub, lemme see what your pops has got,” De Luca said, shooing Charlie out of the way.

And this was the moment of truth.

 --

 De Luca seemed surprised when Dave finally laid off the bag. And Dave couldn’t read his expression for a million bucks.

“Uh?” he tried. “Not good?”

De Luca blinked himself back to earth.

“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s just uh, you fight a little like someone I know.”

Please don’t say a mobster.

Please don’t say a mobster.

“Kid used to live around here; name’s Matt Murdock,” De Luca said. “You know him?”

Did—

Did he know him?

QUICK. Answer the question.

You’re takin’ too long.

He’s gonna—

“S’alright if you don’t,” De Luca said. “I was just sayin’. Kid was like one of my own.”

He—

What?

“Yeah, boy fought like the devil like his daddy before ‘im,” De Luca said. “He’s the only one Fogwell lets call him ‘Grandpa.’ He’s about your age, actually. God, I’m old.”

AHAHAHAHAHA.

Please change the subject.

“You’re not that old,” Dave said. “I think I might have heard the name.”

Charlie looked up at him, baffled at the hedging.

He pleaded with her with his eyes not to say a damn word.

“Yeah, he’s somethin’, left here for San Francisco. Didn’t even say good-bye, the little shit,” De Luca sniffed. “Came back last year all ‘I’m gettin’ married’ and I swear to god, he’s picked up some kid. Just between you and me, pal, the old guard here have been talkin’, and we think that someone missed out on the sex ed talk, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

Oh.

Poor Sam.

He wasn’t even there to scream from the mountaintops that Red was a last resort for him at best.

“I’m just sayin’,” De Luca said with a shrug that spoke far more of supreme irritation than nonchalance, “He coulda just told us. I’m just sayin’.”

Any more ‘just sayin’s’ and Diamond De Luca was gonna go find a wall to bury them in.

“Did you, uh, have any feedback?” Dave blurted out as the guy started mumbling.

“Hm?”

“Feedback,” Dave repeated, waving a gloved hand at the bag.

“Oh. Yeah, loads, kid. You got all the muscles and not a damn lick of memory, here, lemme show you.”

Crisis averted.

Thank god.

 --

 D2: hey uh, DD?

SM: DAVE

S2: DAVEEEE

S3: DAVE

SM: what’s up man?

D2: nothing I was just trying to get ahold of DD?

BT: He’s trying to get Kirsten to give up her dreams of an indoor office pond rn. Can I help?

SM: I want an indoor office pond

S3: omg same

D2: uh yeah actually could you just tell him I met a guy named De Luca the other day and he might want to give him a call?

BT: de Luca?

D2: yeah

BT: okay sure thing

D2: thanks

BT: I’ll go see if I can get a word in edgewise.

SM: good fucking luck

S2: I hate fish

S3: leave this place and never return

S2: I HATE FISH

DD: WHAT

SM: oh shit that was quick

D2: oh. I was just saying that I met Diamond De Luca the other day?

SM: ?? Who’s that?

DD: oh no

S2: ??????????????

DP (´｡✪ω✪｡´): who the fuck is that?

DD: are you still with him?

D2: no?

D2: he caught me out fliering and invited me to Fogwell’s

D2: and when I got there he mentioned my stance was like yours and he uh

D2: got a little distracted

DD: what kind of distracted?

D2: He thinks Sam’s your bastard kid

BT: GODDAMNIT

DD: FOR FUCKS SAKE

BT: First Mrs. Jones, now this guy?? TEACH.

DD: These people have zero faith in me I swear to god.

DD: like come ON man. I did sex ed in the same class as Angie he knows I’m too catholic for that shit

DP (´｡✪ω✪｡´): I looked this man up and he looks like an Italian nate with less hair

SM: wh

DP (´｡✪ω✪｡´): okay you’re right he looks nothing like nate

SM: that

SM: that’s not even slightly helpful, wade, thanks not at all. Hey who’s angie?

DD: long story. Rudy’s daughter

S2: RED YOU FUCKED A BOXERS DAUGHTER?? That’s a million dollar baby man

DD: I

DD: what?

DD: no? Why would I fuck angie she’s like my sister?

S2: oh nvm

SM: 😬😬😬

S3: I am confused ❤

D2: you should probably call him, friend

DD: on it. thanks for the notice

DD: hey what’s your fuckin name again?

S2: f

S3: f

SM: f

D2: It’s Ansel

DD: Adams?

D2: not the photographer. Ansel West.

SM: WEST

S2: OMG

S3: guys don’t

SM: I BET YOURE A SUNSET DAVE

S2: YOU EVER FEEL CALLED TO THE PRAIRIE DAVE???

SM: YOU’RE A&W, DAVE!!

S2: ROOT BEER ROOT BEER

D2: ah yes. Middle school. I remember this feeling.

--

Dave laid his phone on his chest and stared back up at the ceiling.

It was never dull, this new life he’d settled into.

He said a prayer for Murdock and rolled onto his side.

It was still his goddamn couch.

 --

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #365

“i’m numb to the pleasure, but still feel the pain”

Are there palm trees where you live? No. Do you own any Hello Kitty stuff? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite flavor of ice pop? Blue raspberry. Do you like animal print? What’s your favorite print? Not really. I think animal "print" only really looks nice on, well, animals. Does your dad have any facial hair? Yes. What do you think of foot tattoos? They're not my favorite, but some look nice. I myself wanna get "11121" (a Silent Hill 4 reference) "carved" onto the top of my feet. Do you like bugs or do they scare you? Some do. I've gotten more into them though as my passion for tarantulas expanded to other inverts, like mantises. Ever seen the movie Chernobyl Diaries? If so, did you like it? If not, do you want to see it? I haven't, but I'd be willing to watch it. I find the whole Chernobyl incident to be extremely fascinating, so I'd probably like it. Did your senior class in high school have a class trip? Where did you go? Bitch I wish. :/ Do you have an instagram account? What’s your username? Yeah, two: brittanymphotography and eldritch_obscura. Do you like Gir from Invader Zim? I think he's cute. Do you or would you ever own a gun? Why or why not? No thanks. If I'm not mistaken, I can't legally obtain one anyway because of my suicidal history. I'm fine with having like, pepper spray and a bat handy by the bed, lol. If it was offered for free by a professional, would you get your hair dyed platinum blonde? For FREE? Fuck yeah I'd try it. What do you normally order at Dunkin Donuts? A chocolate frosted donut, and sometimes a plain/cake one. Do you watch football? Favorite teams? No. What about WWE? Favorite wrestler? That's an even bigger no. Funniest thing you’ve ever heard a teacher say? Okay so this is hard to actually explain and it be funny. I had this amazing, kinda charismatically awkward history teacher in high school, and when talking about some legal stuff I can't remember, she deadass quoted "Without Me" by Eminem ("if the FCC won't let me be...") like so casually and everyone fucking died, just from knowing her and her personality. It was just very unexpected. Do you wear a lot of makeup? What do you think of girls who do? No. Girls can wear however much makeup they please. Do you have a savings account? Are you good at saving money? No. I can't really answer the second question because of me never having a steady flow of money. Would you rather have a relationship or casual flings? Relationship, 100%. I would never have a casual fling. Do you know anyone that’s part Native American? Yes. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I remember none of them. Have you ever tried to poison someone? Yikes, no. Have you ever saved anyone from a fire? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I've had sudden spasms, but never a full-on seizure. Have you ever had an out-of-body experience? No. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Have you ever had a tooth pulled? No. Have you ever had pneumonia? I have not. Have you ever had tubes put in your ears? Yes, as a baby. Have you ever been shot with an arrow or bullet? Thank god no. Have you ever had kidney stones? No. Have you even been bitten by an venomous animal? No. Have you ever thought about being in the military? Fuck no. I wouldn't qualify, anyway. Have you ever been sedated or put under anesthesia? Yeah. Have you ever used shrooms or any other hallucinogen? No. What upcoming event are you most looking forward to? I can barely believe my tat appointment is almost here lakjsd;ajwlej;rwe What was the last song you heard? I'm currently listening to Motionless In White's synthwave edit of "Voices" they just put out. I looooove it. What time did you wake up today? Maybe like, 5:20? Is there a vase in the room you’re in? No. Have you recently been insulted? Yes. Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone? N O P E How many days a week do you work? I'm unemployed. Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others? Yes. What is your worst relationship quality? I obsess over the person probably leaving, so especially at the beginning, I'm paranoid and distrustful. I want to emphasize that I'm not the asshole that snoops through her partner's phone out of distrust, but still, the fear is just there. What was your most recent serious injury? A serious one? Man idk. I've had a lot or negligible and smaller ones, but a big one... *shrug* What were you most recently happy about? I was happy to see "synthwave" in this video title, haha. Are you a fan of cake? Oh yes. What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Is your town beautiful? Ew, no. Do you prefer the city or the country? THE COUNTRY. Have you ever witnessed an eclipse? Lots of lunar eclipses. Do you wear lipstick often? No. You’re going on a date with someone you like. What would you like to do? Considering the pandemic, probably just like... grab fast food and sit and eat at a park. That'd be cute. You’re hanging out with your best friend. What would you like to do? It'd be nice to get back to Avatar: The Last Airbender while hanging out with Doris (her beardie that I adore), too. Have you ever written or considered writing a play? No. Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Ha, me. To begin, I like all the "dark" stuff, I'm the unreligious one, the one with political beliefs unlike most of my family, I'm not doing what I should be... Why is your favorite movie your favorite movie? It's just a masterpiece. I love love love animals, African one especially, and I find it to be an amazing story of courage and dedication to family. Plus I shamelessly love all the songs, haha. What’s an odor you hate? GASOLINE. FUCK. What’s a sound you hate? Fingernails on a chalkboard. Or screech-y noises in general. If money was no issue, what would you like to do right now? I was initially gonna say go to Yellowstone, but fuck that hot weather this time of year. So, this brings us back to Venus' terrarium; I'd want to get a new one and better materials. What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I wouldn't say I'm "so good" at it, but I do take pride in my writing. What’s something you’d never ever dare to ask another person? Hm. Under ANY circumstance, I guess "are you pregnant?" There's almost like... no situation where I'd be comfortable asking somebody that. What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? We're not getting into that lmao. Do you know anyone who has a hearing deficit? No. What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I could never stand seeing so many hurt and dying animals and still be okay at the end of the day. Are there any opinions you used to have even a few years ago that you look back on and think, “I can’t believe I ever thought that way”? THERE ARE!!!!!!!!!!! A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The last time you cried, what was wrong? I fell and skinned my knees when stepping over this barrier Mom made to keep the damn dog out of the hallway and thus my room to fuck with the cat and eat his food. I previously twisted my ankle, fell backwards, and had one other accident with it despite moving stuff, and I didn't cry from pain, just massive frustration. I want this dog GONE. Do you like multi-choice tests or tests you have to write out? Multiple choice. Who last called you ‘beautiful’? Couldn't tell ya, bud. Have you ever caught a firefly? Yeah, I did that lots as a kid. Do you own any camouflage? No. What’s the stinkiest pet you’ve ever had? Uhhh I dunno. Have you ever been on the news? For what? No. Have you ever seen one of your friends get arrested? No. Do you put sprinkles on anything? No, I hate sprinkles. How do you like your steak? Medium well. Long hair on guys: yes or no? Yaaaaaaaas. Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for? No. When was the last time you started a new medication? It's been a while. What is your favourite type of nut? Cashews, I think. Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? I'm so fuckin basic, like my genuine answer is Domino's lmaooo. Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Yeah, I loved that show. I even had the two video games; I was obsessed with the first one in particular. Do you know anyone who was adopted? Yes. Do your parents’ professions match their college degrees? No. Do you write shopping lists on paper or just remember it in your head? I don't do the shopping, so. But I would definitely need to write it down. Have you ever used a lawnmower? No. Have you ever consumed so much alcohol that you vomited? No. Can you tie balloons? No, actually. My hands are just too shaky. When was the last time you were at a pet store? A few weeks ago when we got rats for Venus. Ugh, it is SO overpriced; they come in a box of two, and as I feed her twice a month, it's honestly quite a bit of money. Like if I remember correctly, it's around $16. FOR TWO. SMALL. RATS. I've recommended we just buy them in bulk NOT from an overpriced chain pet store, but the problem with that is then we have *too* many, and the nutritional value of frozen rats apparently does degrade with time, so I don't want to feed my snake poor food. So it's just an annoying thing we have to do. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? Not like, an at-home one. I've been tested before surgery, but that was just a safety protocol. Does your ex still think about you? "The" ex, probably not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mom. What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia. Would you go down to see the Titanic if given the chance? Man, that's kinda tempting. Maybe. It'd be super cool. Have you ever seen the Hollywood sign in real life? No. Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they don't live here. Do you type the proper way? Have you ever typed on a manual typewriter? Yes to both. What was your maternal grandmother’s first name? Cecelia. Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.

[kairiofknives]

S3E2 of Bungou Stray Dogs fucked me the hell up and here’s why: Dazai giving Chuuya a choice about whether he uses corruption or not is so much more important now.

This episode we got to meet some of the sheep Chuuya’s been “leading”.  The interaction felt extremely bizarre to me.  The sheep were the ones barking the orders, despite going out to a dangerous area to steal liquor, which Chuuya warned them not to do.

Yet these two kiddos were expecting Chuuya to use his ability to wipe up their messes.  And how does Dazai react? Well...

He looks kinda pissed off actually.  Chuuya is a powerhouse.  The boy can’t be downed by guns or an experienced Mafia ability user.  Yet, as Dazai points out, even though Chuuya has all the power in that relationship, the sheep are the ones acting like wolves in this situation.  And Chuuya just lets them.

Chuuya is loyal as fuck.  We’ve always known that.  So much so that I’m sure he gets his trust abused regularly (and by people other than Dazai).  The difference is this: the mafia may have wanted Chuuya for his powers originally, but so far they’ve never forced his hand to use them.  The Sheep expect Chuuya to, since he’s the only one that can among their numbers.  And if Chuuya disobeys?  They emotionally blackmail him.

Dazai dislikes this for some reason..  But why? He manipulates people for a living.  He’s great at it after all.  But I think he has come to respect Chuuya as an ability user at this point.  And as a leader.  He sees how far Chuuya is willing to go for them, but also how it wears him down that the people he’s putting his neck out to protect don’t seem to be appreciative.  They don’t respect him.  They use him.  Strain that trust that is so integral to Chuuya’s personality.  So, Dazai decides to show that he trusts Chuuya.

He lets the hostages go.  Now, there’s nothing forcing Chuuya’s hand.  He’s free to investigate this further, with the superior resources that the Mafia provides.  Or to do the Sheep’s bidding.  Chuuya unsurprisingly chooses the first.  Because this is a personal matter to him, for reasons we don’t find out until later.  But, I also think he understands what Dazai is doing in this moment.  The Sheep may have accepted Chuuya, but they were never on an equal playing field with him.  Ever.  Dazai stresses that Chuuya should get to choose his path.  Which, when you have the um...affliction that Chuuya does, is a rare thing.  He probably feels like he doesn’t have much choice in any facet of his life.  But Dazai offers him one anyway. 

And the Sheep stab right where it hurts when they don’t get what they want.

So, let’s review.  Chuuya and Dazai came together reluctantly because Mori saw that they had qualities that would work well together.  They’re not complimentary personality wise.  They bicker, they fight, but they also work together almost seamlessly.  Dazai knows how strong Chuuya is.  He knows that Chuuya can and will kick anyone’s ass, including his own.  He also sees how deeply Chuuya cares for his comrades and craves a place to belong.  And when a guy like that has his trust abused, Dazai might normally just be like “ha, serves you right, not my problem.”  But with Chuuya, he doesn’t.  He takes the time and care to demonstrate that he’s not like that.  That they can go towards their goals together, combining their own methods in a way they find fun (the bet) but without hindering each other.  And, specifically, without blackmailing Chuuya into it.  He sets Chuuya free, expects nothing, but expresses that their job isn’t finished and trusts Chuuya to see it through to the end.  That’s fucking beautiful.  

Oh, and then that bastard throws Chuuya a party too???  Fucking cute.

This just gives so much more context to their relationship and I LOVE IT.  To me, with my damn shipper goggles, I kind of see a hint of why Dazai and Chuuya still work so well together after Dazai leaves the Mafia.  Chuuya trusts him to still do what needs doing, even if they’re using separate methods.  Dazai will blow up Chuuya’s car and trick him into having certain reactions, but when their backs are against the wall, Chuuya trusts Dazai to stop him before Corruption kills him.  And Dazai trusts Chuuya to not let them die.  But they both always have that choice.  It says a lot about Chuuya’s character at least that when Dazai offers “use Corruption or not” as a choice, he doesn’t even think there is a choice in the matter.  He wouldn’t leave the job unfinished, or leave Dazai to die.  

Fuck man.  These boys.  Can’t wait for the next episode.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

when you’re gone i’ll still be Bloody Mary

oof everything but the fight isn’t my best and you can tell i got bored and started rushing at the end BUT!! here is today’s fic! i hope it makes you mad!

Title from Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga

Word count: 5024

TW: Violence, blood, asphyxiation

———————

For better or for worse, the kids were alive and well again, and ever since then, the queens have changed. Everyone has noticed it- the sudden shift in behavior and attitude caught a lot of attention. Suddenly, they lost all their personality and just became a slave to the maternal mentality that awakens in their brains at the sight of their children.

First, there was Anne and Elizabeth. They didn’t look alike at all- Anne with her chocolate brown hair done in spacebuns and Elizabeth looking as if she was Merida from Brave- but they shared a similar gremlin-like gene. Anne was probably the least overbearing with her motherly attitude- she was still very much caring and loving, but she gave her daughter space and let her do whatever she wanted...which wasn’t exactly a good thing. Elizabeth had way too much freedom, especially towards Maggie, who would always get very quiet when the girl came around her. But Maggie tried, tried to be happy to see the girl again, and tried to be happy for her best friend, but her smile was very tight and forced, and pain would always flicker in her eyes whenever she saw the two together. She was dreading the worst- waiting for the sword hanging over Anne’s head to finally fall again.

Then there was Jane and Edward. Unlike her predecessor, Jane was extremely overbearing with the whole mum thing. She was always checking on her son, making sure he was happy and that everything was okay, and she pampered him constantly. Somehow, Edward didn’t seem to mind at all. He was basically living in the lap of luxury. Not even Kitty was bothered by this! She was just happy to finally get to be the big sibling in the family.

Thirdly, and most surprising, there was Cathy and Mae. The toddler actually appearing was a huge shocker to everyone, especially Cathy, but she took up responsibility for her daughter very quickly. She was very patient with the little girl, unlike Bessie, who had to leave the room whenever Mae would cry or even simply just giggle. Every time this happened, Cathy’s rage built up a little higher. It wouldn’t be long until she finally blew her top.

Finally, there was Aragon and Mary. It was easy to know that they were related; Mary seemed to get everything from her mouth when it came to looks- skin tone, eyes, hair, height, jawline, nose. However, there was one thing Mary inherited from her father: his bloodlust. Aragon, of course, didn’t acknowledge what her daughter had done at all. She was sheltering her mind from the crime, pretending it doesn’t exist because, to her, it didn’t if nobody brought it up. So nobody did.

Seeing all the kids was weird again, but Mary was by far the strangest, or at least to Joan. Mary appeared to be sixteen, maybe fifteen, so it was odd seeing her younger than Joan, but Joan pushed that aside and just tried to befriend the girl. After all, they had a common interest- having Aragon as a mother. Or, well, mother figure in Joan’s case. It wasn’t official yet.

“Hey, Mary!”

After everything was settled with the kid’s arrival was when Joan decided to make her move. She didn’t want to hold out much longer or it may seem impolite of her.

Mary turned to Joan, and Joan got a sudden bad feeling as she approached her further, like she was a sheep walking right into the den of a hungry hyena.

And now that it was mentioned, Mary kinda did look like a hyena. If Joan concentrated enough, she could almost smell the pungent, rank scent of death that clung to the girl as it did to the scavengers.

“Uhh. Hey.” Mary said. She was looking at Joan as if she were a dirty peasant clambering into her throne room. “And you are...?”

“Joan.” Joan said. “I’m the music director and pianist. Aragon and I are friends!”

Mary squinted at Joan. “Are you sure? Mother doesn’t mention you.”

“Well- maybe not as a friend, per se.” Joan scuffed her foot against the ground, trying her best not to do a giddy little happy dance as she said, “She- well, she sees me as a daughter!”

Mary blinked.

And then she started laughing.

The image of a hyena floated back to the surface as she did so- her laugh is barking and shrill. It grates Joan’s ears like barbed claws or scorpion stingers.

“You?” Mary asked for confirmation.

Now slightly flustered, Joan nodded.

Mary laughed again.

“Oh, that is adorable!” She wiped her eyes with a slim finger that seemed more like a talon. “Seriously, that is just too cute! My mother! Being yours!” Another chortle.

“It’s true!” Joan squeaked. Her voice is pitching and wavering slightly, which doesn’t help her case at all.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Mary said. “In your dreams, maybe. Why would Mother ever want you as her daughter? What makes you so special?” She tilted her head at Joan, and Joan just managed by the skin of her teeth to not squirm under her gaze. It felt like the ex-princess was sizing her up....estimating how big the wooden stakes would need to be when she set her ablaze.

“I-”

“Actually,” Mary cut her off. “don’t answer that! No offense, but I don’t care.”

She swung around to leave, not giving Joan a chance to defend herself.

“Thanks for the laugh, June!”

She walked off, disappearing further into the theater and leaving Joan alone.

“...My name is Joan.”

———

It’s been five months since that first interaction, and Joan swore Mary had something against her. She always saw the girl glaring at her from a distance, like she was imagining how good her head would look on the end of a flaming torch.

It gave Joan the creeps, to say the least.

But it didn’t end there. Mary began to torment and taunt Joan constantly- whether it being teasing or purposely making her fuck up somehow, Mary tried to make Joan’s life a living hell. And when she tried to tell Aragon, the queen got mad. Like, really pissed off. Joan doesn’t tell her about the harassment anymore. Especially when she got terribly ill the next day.

The thought that Mary somehow poisoned her for snitching scares her even more.

What’s worse: Aragon was starting to spend a lot less time with Joan. That was natural, of course, but Joan’s jealousy just couldn’t handle it. Especially when it was Mary getting all the queen’s attention.

But what could she do? Aragon would never choose Mary over her.

———

The sound of her dressing room door shutting and the lock clicking snapped Joan out of her workaholic reverie. She snapped around and was startled to find Mary standing there, her hands pressed together and folded neatly against her stomach.

(Joan remembers something about the princess having several pregnancy issues. She wonders if those still exist within her after reincarnation, and if they’re the reason she’s so bitchy.)

“Can I help you?” Joan said impatiently. She didn’t have time or the coffee to deal with this right now- she had work to do.

“Yes, actually,” Mary said. She crossed the room in just a few quick strides; her movements were poised and confident- she knew what she was doing. “I just wanted to talk to you about Mother.”

“What about her?” Joan asked cautiously. Red flags are already going off in her head, if the fact that the ex-princess locked the door wasn’t enough to tell her that this situation seemed sketchy.

“Back off.”

“What?”

“Back off of Mother.” Mary said. Her voice is still languid and smooth, but there’s now an underlying firmness to it- a drop of poison in the honeyed words.

Joan didn’t know why she thought for even a split second that this was going to be a truce or an opportunity to finally make friends with the princess. She should have known she was walking right into Mary’s flaming claws.

“You know she never actually loved you, right?” Mary went on. “You didn’t believe it, did you? Be honest.”

Joan bit her tongue until she could taste blood. Her fingers clenched into fists, which Mary glanced at. The princess smirked.

“Of course you did.” She said. “I can’t blame you. You have nothing. Someone as meaningless and worthless as you has to cling to whatever they can get their hands on. It’s quite entertaining. Like dangling a carrot on a stick in front of you!”

“You’re lying,” Joan growled. She drove her fingernails into her palms even deeper until she felt the skin break open. “Aragon— She didn’t say that. She wouldn’t.”

“I’m not.” Mary said smoothly. “Why would I lie to you, Joan? You know I don’t care enough about you to do that. God, just standing here and talking to you makes me worry that I’m gonna get some of your desperation and neediness rubbed off on me!” She laughed like a hyena. It hurts Joan’s ears.

Joan can’t reply. She can’t do anything but sit there and take the insults hurled at her. She does, however, flinch back in her chair when Mary walks right up to her and gently cupped her cheek.

Her touch feels like fire.

“I have to thank you, though,” Mary crooned in a way a mother would when talking to their child, her voice like sickly sweet venom. “For taking care of my mother. But there’s no need anymore.” She pats Joan’s cheek. “There’s no use for you any longer. So why don’t you do us all a favor and just go crawl into the hole you came out of and die.”

Joan’s breath hitched slightly. She lowered her head so Mary couldn’t see the glisten in her eyes, but she knew she did from the sneer above her.

And that’s what made the rage bubble up.

Joan’s anger was not a hot, volcanic thing, but rather a cold, resentful feeling that ran in her blood for a long time. Her chest would turn icy and she suddenly couldn’t care about anyone else. Only justice for her broken self esteem.

She grabbed Mary by the wrist and yanked her hand off of her cheek. This startles the princess, who staggers back for a moment, then narrows her eyes. Her other hand comes around fast and slaps Joan hard across the face.

Like that, something in Joan’s brain sparked to life. An instinct she didn’t even know she had in her. It told her to fight.

( “We may be thieves, but we aren’t killers,” Her brother had once said. Ironically, he was sharpening an iron pick at the time. “But if you feel your life's on the line, Joan, you fight back. Whether you like it or not, to you, your life is the most important thing in this world. Not mine, not any of your friend’s, your own. You should protect it.”

“Where should I hit someone?” Joan had asked. She remembered shifting anxiously after asking it.

Her brother thought for a moment, tapping the pointy pick against his chin. Then, he smiled.

“The knees or stomach. Then get them in the jaw to incapacitate them. Your nails and teeth are also your greatest allies.” His eyes went dark for a moment. “But...if you fear they’re trying to kill you, then go for the throat and don’t let go.”)

Mary didn’t see Joan coming, even when glowering right at her. She hadn’t been expecting her prey to spring out of the chair and barrel into her at full speed, but here she was, being driven back against the nearby makeup table, watching tabletop items scatter and clatter in various directions in slow motion, before senses returned to her in a flash and she felt the sparks that shot up her and alerted her brain of the threat.

Joan had her hands on Mary’s shoulders and one knee wedged between her legs, the plated bone pressing uncomfortably against the sensitive bundle of nerves her thighs would usually shield from harm. She pushed backwards, causing Mary’s back to bend against the table edge in a way that made it feel like her spine would snap if she didn’t get away quickly.

The princess squirmed, then finally got her arms free. She shoved against Joan’s chest, which caused her to stumble back slightly. It was enough of a chance for Mary, as she took her turn to do the ramming.

Both girls collapsed to the floor in a wondrous heap, where they tousled like angry cats. It was an awkward, but deadly dance they did on the floor until they ripped away and scuttled away for air. Scratches gleamed red and pink on their sweaty faces, like they just got into a fight with a sentient knife and lost. Bits of blood and flecks of skin cling beneath their nails.

“So you do have some fight in you,” Mary panted. If she was trying to make Joan angrier, it was definitely working. “I’m impressed.”

“I don’t quite appreciate compliments from murderers.” Joan grit.

Something flashed in Mary’s eyes- guilt? Terror? Trauma? For a split second, she almost looked like she felt bad for what she had done and what she was doing now. Joan could almost see a girl in there who felt guilty about everything, and who maybe understood why it had been wrong.

But that girl was never going to be the one anyone saw.

“I am not!” Mary shrilled. “I was saving my people from those—those leeches!”

“Saving them?” Joan scoffed. She struggles to her feet, feeling the scratches scattered across her body lighting up with fresh pain. “Is that what you call burning their friends to death?”

Mary bared her teeth. Joan flashes her own right back.

“Shut up!” Mary snapped. “You weren’t there, so you have no idea what I had to do or why I had to do it!”

“Why are you acting like this?” Joan said. “You have another chance! You can redeem yourself! Why are you wasting it by acting like such a bitch?!”

Mary lunged at Joan. Joan sidestepped just in time to avoid being rammed, but Mary moved again, too. She whipped around and drove her fist into Joan’s stomach.

All the breath in Joan’s lungs left her in a whoosh and a spray of saliva droplets that splattered onto Mary’s yellow-and-violet striped shirt. She staggered backwards, snaking her arms around her aching stomach tightly, and her knees buckled underneath her.

She’s had the wind knocked out of her more than once and she knew that in a few moments, she’d be fine again—or as fine as someone who’d just been socked in the gut could possibly be—but this wasn’t exactly the kind of situation where she had moments to spare for breath-catching.

And on top of that, the human body had a tendency to freak out when it couldn’t breathe. Like, a lot.

She choked and spluttered, mouthing like a fish out of water as she tried to pull air into lungs that just weren’t ready to get back on their feet yet. Through the oxygen-deprived haze that was covering her vision, she saw Mary’s bloodthirsty expression return to confidence, like Joan’s struggle for air sated her hunger for suffering for now. But it would be back.

It was only really then that Joan realized what she had gotten herself into.

Joan knew that she wasn’t going to get away from this bitch if she relied completely on pure strength. Mary was taller and stronger than she was, plus she was fueled by insanity, which seemed to supply her with an endless stream of energy. She wasn’t knowledgeable in combat by any means, but if Lara Croft has taught her anything, it’s that you need to use tactics.

That thought of a possible plan was cut short, however, when Mary knocked her to the ground.

Pain rattled up Joan’s spine when she hit the floor. Fingers close around her throat; Mary was on her. Her hips are straddled and she’s pinned to the floor. She was being choked. She could feel the princess’ thumbs press down on her airways.

“Stop struggling!” Mary growled. “Just let it take you.”

Joan gags helplessly, clawing at the fingers around her throat. Even when she scratches Mary’s hands to bloodied shreds, she still doesn’t let go. She tries to gouge the princess’ eyes out, but her eyelids prove to be a strong barrier above the sockets, which she so desperately wanted to sink her nails into. Mary wrings her neck when she doesn’t stop and Joan choked, feeling pops and crackles shooting down her spinal cord.

“There we go...” Mary cooed when she saw Joan’s head flop to the side. She was still gasping like a fish out of water, but it wouldn’t be long, now. “Good girl.” She spoke to the music director as if she were a dog or one of her dead babies. “Such a good girl...”

Joan made a pathetic squeaking wheeze, which made Mary croon down at her alarmingly blue face pitifully.

“I would stroke your hair to help you along if I could,” Mary said. “But I can’t. I have to say, though, you are very obedient. Well trained. You make it too easy!”

Joan’s eyes were starting to roll back into her skull. Her tongue lolls out of her mouth, suddenly feeling like a block of heavy lead. The ice in her veins is smothered by Mary’s fire. It lights in her chest and incinerates her lungs to smoldering ashes. Her throat is being burned open from the princess’ burning touch.

This was it. She was about to die. In just a few moments, Joan’s strength would deplete, her neck would snap, and she would be just another body on Mary’s growing pile.

Then, it would all be over.

Cinders are stoked through all of Joan’s nerves, numbing them in a terrible, blistering way and rendering them useless. Her arms now lie outstretched, sprawled aimlessly across the floor. There, her fingers twitch against something.

Mary began to twist Joan’s neck back in a sickening, horrible way. She keeps her victim’s throat wrenched and was just about to snap it like she would a little bird when something sharp and pointy is stabbed into her lower stomach.

Mary shouts as zigzags of pain shot through her abdomen. She ripped her hands back to instinctively shield her stomach, as if she thought there may be a baby in her womb that she needed to protect. Instead, she just found a large thumbtack sticking out of her belly.

“You bitch!!” Mary shrieked at Joan, who was struggling to catch her breath.

She pulled the thumbtack out with a small squeak and her eyes widened at the sight of the glistening red blood that coated the tip.

Like before, a very guilty person appears in her eyes, and even on her face this time. She watched her blood slide down the length of the needle and drip off in thick droplets.

Drip, drip, drip...

Joan reared up like a furious ram, horns gleaming in the fluorescent lights, and slammed her entire body into Mary.

They both go down, but there’s a lot less scratching this time. Mary is jarred out of her trance and is momentarily stunned because of it. Joan lands sprawled on top of her, out of breath from that small effort alone. Her lungs and trachea just weren’t ready for that much action yet.

Still. She didn’t have any time to wait around, even as black spots fluttered across her vision each time she simply took a breath.

So, the one little part of her brain that was smarter than the rest of it was, the part that only seemed to awaken when she was in immediate danger or dying, spontaneously came back to life and drifted in over the panicked alarm bells in her head like the calm voice of the pilot’s intercom over the clamor of a falling plane full of hysterical passengers.

It was her brother’s voice.

“Joan. Do you know how much bacteria is in a human bite?”

She blinked her eyes.

Well. He wasn’t wrong.

“OWWW!!!” Mary howled as Joan clamped her teeth down on her ear. She could feel the incisors grinding against the earlobe and her golden hoop earring shifting uncomfortably. “What the FUCK?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Even in her pained and oxygen deprived daze, even when she couldn’t take in any air as she bites down, even as someone else’s blood seeped into her mouth, Joan still managed a small smirk.

Bet you've never got your ear bitten before, She thought. Bitch.

Mary keened in pain, smothering her face against the tile floor. She couldn’t do anything but writhe with Joan on top of her. But it’s clear Joan was getting a little cocky and that she seemed to forget how clever psychopaths really were.

Not that a tabletop mirror lying nearby made Mary clever.

The entire right side of Joan’s head exploded into bright, colorful bursts of pain as the mirror smashed against it. The glass shattered and shards are driven into her scalp. Joan swayed and then slumped over, and Mary gave her the shove she needed to fully topple to the ground.

Mary scampered backwards and then gingerly felt her ear. It was bloody and already starting to swell up. Her earring was missing, too, leaving her earlobe split in two.

Silence filled the ransacked room- aside from Joan’s moans and raspy breathing, of course.

Then, Mary laughed.

“So what if I killed a few people?” She said as she shakily rose up to her feet. “Some people have to die for others to thrive! I was just…trimming out the fat! Culling the weak! It’s what you have to do to survive in this world.”

Joan just barely managed to look up at her. There’s twin streams of blood running down one side of her face. One crosses over her eye.

“Let me put it like this,” Mary said, sensing her disbelief. “Say you and the other ladies in waiting and queens were in...the apocalypse. Alright? And there’s a group of people who want to take this food supply you found. They’re innocent, but they’re not backing down and you and your group are starving. So...” She twirled her wrist. “You do what you need to do to survive and keep those of greater value alive.”

Joan shook her head as she braced herself on her arms. Her elbows shake treacherously, barely holding her up.

“You don’t...” She wheezed out. Consciousness wavered away from her for a moment. She thought she heard the doorknob wiggle, but it was just nothing. “You can’t...think...like that.” She finally said, each word punctuated with a wince, moan, or heavy gasp. “It’s not...right...”

“If you haven’t noticed, dear, nothing is right in this world. Not anymore.” Mary said.

“No thanks...to you,” Joan grit, and then was delivered a teeth-shattering blow to her jaw.

Mary stood over the girl. She lifts the leg she used to kick Joan with and stepped on her stomach. Bending the knee, the princess applied all her pressure onto Joan’s midriff, weighing her to the ground.

“Joey, this hurts me as much as it hurts you.” She said in that crooning, hyena voice of hers. “But you have to make sacrifices sometimes. You’re just dragging everyone here down. Nobody even looks at you anymore. I’m doing you a favor by putting you down.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Joan spat.

She lifted her head and Mary struck as fast as a bullwhip, pressing it back down to the ground.

“Don’t talk over me!” Mary snapped, her pitch raising slightly. She cleared her throat. “Everything will be fine. You’re just a little blind right now. I’m helping you!”

“That’s what they all say,” Joan gurgled. “But you’ll probably get all wrapped up in killing all over again and burn the whole theater to the ground, you fucking pyro. You’d love to watch this place go up in flames and then you’ll dance on the ashes while listening to the screams of-”

“I said to not talk over me!” Mary yelled, reaching down and digging her fingernails into the red hot crevices on the back of Joan’s head. She watches in amusement as blood comes frothing out of Joan’s mouth, which is hanging open in a silent scream.

Some of that blood sprays out slightly when her lips move to form words.

“I know...your reign...smelled like...burned flesh.” She hissed out.

Mary’s mouth pulled back in a snarl.

“You don’t know anything!”

She drops Joan’s head and steps back, letting her writhe on the floor like a stabbed snake. Then, she pulls a lighter out of her pocket and runs her thumb over the smooth sides as if she thought doing such an action would calm her.

“You barely even know me.” She growled. “Nobody does! People look at me like I’m some sort of demon! Do you know what that is like?”

“It’s what you deserve,” Joan croaked. “Because you are one.”

Mary’s eyes flash. Something in her head has cracked open and every bad thing in her twisted brain is now spilling out like thousands of spiders.

“You know, I was just messing with you before. I wasn’t actually going to let you choke to death.” She said. “But now? Now I’m going to fucking kill you.” She flicked the lighter open and watched the small flame burst to life. “And when I’m done, nobody is ever going to find you.”

Mary leaned down, holding the flame dangerously close to one of Joan’s cloudy eyes.

“Any last words?”

Joan’s last words aren’t really words, per se, rather a mouthful of blood she spits in Mary’s eyes.

The princess reared back in surprise and claws her face as if she thought she had been sprayed with acid. That’s enough for Joan to gather all her strength, draw her legs back, and then drive her foot right into Mary’s knees.

Watching the princess crumple and fall like a broken doll was the highlight of Joan’s entire day. She couldn’t celebrate, though, because she knew Mary would be getting up soon, so she scrambled over to the broken tabletop mirror, raised it over her head, and—

The door flew open.

A scream.

Several screams.

There’s a whizz of gold- Aragon is rushing in. But not towards Joan, who is substantially the more injured one of the two. No, instead, she’s shoved roughly to the side and that’s finally what her conscious needed to cut out.

———

Joan awoke to blinding pain. She was moaning before she could even get her eyes open, which were much heavier than they normally were. She tried to pry them open, but that effort alone nearly made her pass out again. A muddled voice speaks to her...she thinks it’s telling her to calm down.

Something stings against Joan’s head. She whimpers sharply and tries to squirm away, but she can’t move.

“Hey. Sit still.”

Joan moaned again. She can taste copper on her tongue. It makes her stomach churn.

“Joan. Please sit still.”

Her eyes open. Light stabs into them, but she manages to make out the figure of Anne sitting beside her. She blinks dazedly at the woman.

“A...Anne...?” She croaked. Her throat hurt so much. Every word seemed to make it cave in on itself until she felt like she was choking on the syllables and enunciation.

“Hush.” Anne said. There wasn’t even a flicker of goofiness in her at that moment- her face was completely stoney and serious. “Don’t speak.”

“Wh...what...” Joan spoke anyway.

“I said, don’t talk, Joan. You’re hurt.” Anne said. “I shouldn’t even be doing this after what you did, but—”

Her voice cut off. Joan blinked up at her and saw that she’s staring at her neck.

Anne gagged. Joan’s eyes widen in alarm as the woman sprints out of the room with one hand over her mouth. She waits, but Anne does not come back.

Joan rolled off of the couch she’s lying on, recognizing the room she’s in as the shared dressing room between Cathy, Jane, and Kitty. She staggered over to the mirror, feeling like her head was about to explode with every step she took, and looked at what exactly made Anne feel so sick:

The dark, near-black bruise that encircled the entirety of her neck in the horrifying shape of hands.

—

Joan didn’t know how long she laid on that couch, feeling like her brain was oozing out through every orifice. In reality, it was probably only thirty minutes, but it was like an eternity to her before Aragon walked in.

Joan tensed, flinched, and waited to be hit or arrested by a swarm of cops that had been called, but Aragon just sits beside her head. She’s only glanced at for a moment.

“Elizabeth told me everything.” Aragon said grimly. “What Mary said...and did.”

So Joan had heard someone outside the door.

“I...I’m sorry, Joan.” Aragon whispered. “I’m so sorry... I thought she would be good this time. If I just raised her right, then she wouldn’t be the same and everyone could forget about what she did, but...”

She looked down at Joan- at the horrible bruise around her throat. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh my god...” She whispered. It’s obvious she didn’t think the wounds were that bad. “Oh, Joan... Oh, my sweet baby girl...”

She covered her face with her hands and began to cry, but didn’t dare touch Joan. It’s like she was scared of hurting her, too.

Joan watched her mother figure weep before gathering her strength and crawling forward so she could rest her head in Aragon’s lap. The queen gasps softly in surprise and then wraps Joan in her arms, sort of forgetting to be gentle.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Aragon sobbed. “I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t know— I didn’t—”

Joan can’t speak, so she just nuzzles Aragon as best as she could.

“We’ll get you help, baby.” Aragon told her. “I’m going to call the police. Mary will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.”

“Mama...” Joan choked out, head spinning.

“I’m right here, sweet girl.” Aragon said as she dialed the emergency line.

“999, what’s your emergency?” The operator answered.

“Please, I need an ambulance.” Aragon begged. “My daughter was attacked.”

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V8E2 LiveThoughts

And now, for episode 2; same deal as last time, spoilers for this weeks episode. 

RT getting a wee bit too real with the “curfew in effect” sign on the side of that building in the opening. Least here its a visible noticeable threat and not Corona. Still.

Oh, heh. “Hope has no place here.” Always did love that line. But that might just be the grimdark fan in me.

Overall Im not a huge fan of this seasons opening, it doesnt sound as melodic as the last couple ones. More...chaotic. I think thats intentionally but Im still not a fan.

Dude, Qrow, thats unsanitary. Seriously, clean that shit off. You’re gonna get like, tetnus or something.

And Robyn complaining to Qrow. I mean shes not WRONG but at the same time SHE was the one who decided to pass out during the crash. Dont go throwing blame around Hill, you were just as useless and dumb as everyone but Tyrian in that whole section of last season.

Correction, shes talking to Jasque Scnee who is SOMEHOW in the same prison as they are. Additional; hardlight cells with no visible emitters, no toilet or other commodities. This must be a holding cell of some kind. Unless the bed they all have is ALSO a toilet. Ew.

Yeah you sure about that Schnee? Indirect murder is still murder.

Whh...WATTS IS IN HERE TOO?! WHAT THE FUCK IRONWOOD. You dont have a maximum security like, ICEBOX lock up? Dude this is just ASKING for trouble.

Watt’s black eye is still there. Maybe there is something to him not having his aura fully unlocked. Or...something else. Im really confused about that.

Odd cell structure. Impromptu? Or is this whole room just modular. Cause its WAY too big to house just this many prisoners. Im getting the feeling this is impromtu, yeah.

Schnee thinks hes getting out, sucker. 

Mad props to the Atlas soldier for the brutality. NOW HIT HIM AGAIN.  Robyns smirk gives me life.

And Qrow suggests Operation Valkyrie. Im down. Ironwoods proven useless at this point, maybe his replacement will be more tactically viable.

Alright, Atlas has pulled all military forces out of Mantle. Guess that means Ash and CAMO would be out too. Officially anyway. Making note for future threads...

Cute about the news guy, but I LOVE the fact you can hear the former masculinity in May’s voice here, like she isnt fully finished transitioning. If its intentional, bravo. If not, still cool.

“Its time to show your teeth, Mantle.”  HELL FUCKING YES THATS THE KINDA SHIT IVE BEEN WANTING TO HEAR!

Ah and there’s the hoverbikes from the teasers. I really dont get why they’re so goddamn big. Surely you can miniatruize hovertech...right?

They’re big enough to have weapons installed IMO. They should have.

Ah okay here’s the rest of the trailer

Hey look more lesbians. Boy that one on the left is MAD.

I cannot believe these Grimm are dumb enough to not go AROUND the dropwall (and Im going to call it that until I get something else, its literally the equipment from Halo Infinite’s release trailer). I get Grimm are dumb but damn bro.

Ah okay, THATS the split. All the faunus live in the slums down in the crater. Mantle proper is the mid-level, and then Atlas is humans for the most part. As far as I can tell anyway. Literal stratification. 

Ugh, that whole conversation was so expositiony. Jesus fucking christ.

Holy shit this crews moving slow. Like, good fucking lord.

Personaly headcanon; that tiny fox toy Oscar rides past on his bike is later retreived by Ash. That is actually his bootprint on it too oddly enough.

Unity in this situation, Ozpin? Not likely. What you need is miltiary intervention and firepower.

Still not sure why there’s smokestacks in Mantle if everything on Remnant runs on Dust. Maybe its steam vents for the heating system.

So the Crater is literally a divide. Like a circular diamond mine or one of those “rabbit hole” gold ones. Literal wall holding its outside. 

Snowshoe Shipping. New company. Full autonomous workforce from the looks of it. SDC related of course. And its still running despite everything. The drones here are literally AKs. Motherfucker, I think I know where the idea for them came from. SDC literally just weaponized its fucking worker robots. 

And apperently Dust is refined in the Crater. Okay that makes sense. Does it come from outside or are they still mining it there I wonder.

Oh pnumatic elevator. STEALING THAT

“That isn’t relevant at the moment.” WAY TO DODGE THE QUESTION RT. YEAH BECAUSE THERES TOTALLY NOT OTHER COMPANIES OUT THERE RIGHT?

What the fuck happened to Penny? Did becoming the Maiden make her emo?

Lol yeah people are gonna die, its WAR Penny, eat shit and get over it. Fucking weaklings...

Your the maiden. Get over it. Go kill some people, you’ll feel better. Relish in power.

And Weiss is now dead from either pressure shock, thermobaric style lung implosion, forceful impact, or just being crushed flat. Oh, and asphyxiation.  Seriously that was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. REALLY NORA.

Oh hey, a banjo in the crater. It really is hicksville.

Fire dust crystals right into a metal container to keep it  going. Holy shit it only took us 8 seasons to see Dust used physically again...

Sheep nom map. Nom nom. 

Wonder who this Crimson she mentioned is.

Lil hops. Oh no shes too cute.  Also it seems Mantle is divided into sectors. Useful information. Wonder what designates them.

Hahahah Fiona’s uncles a mole XD

And good to know “crap” is a swearword on Remnant.

Sounds like Crimson is a person with the Huntress’s. With his accent Im going to personally imagine his a grizzled former veteran, like Sergeant Stacker from Halo.

Note; the map says “Mantle City”. Interesting. Wonder what the other option is. Crater?

Ohhh and a spudmasher. Wait...no thats not a grenade. Some kind of gravitational surge thing. Again. Okay seriously RT is it so hard to just make a FUCKING WEAPON? Nothing fancy, no special features, just something that kills the fucking enemy. 

Okay...what the hell. Those Grimm cleared out like they got a retreat signal...

Ohho whats this now...this thing looks a LOT more interesting. And SAVAGE. Damn, its beating the SHIT out of Oscar! I think I like this one.

It transforms. Like the Zeta Gundam. FASCINATING. So it must have a rapid transport/assault form of the original dog one then changes to this new one for close in? Or carrying I guess, its stealing Oscar. This must be the thing that Salem sent.

Yeah kinda looks like a werewolf.

Soooo why were they just standing there watching this thing beat up on him? It was open for a couple of seconds. Surely it cant be they were worried about Oscar, the best thign to do if an enemy is grappling your friend is to get in and take advantage of it. 

Its smart too, used Oscar as a meatshield. Apperently just long enough to distract Yang and then yeet her. 

Its got ONE HAND with Oscar in it you idiots, hit it all at once! Go for the legs and the other arm, knock it down, blow its head off. COME ON, its OBVIOUS.

Oh hey it talked. Good. That means it can probably feel pain.

There is no way those legs should work like that. They’re too small and its torsos the wrong shape. This things breaking physics. 

The arms are also way too long.

Also why are you just standing there watching it grow wings? Kill the fucking thing already.  Gotta admit the movement and screaming makes me think it feels pain. Interesting. Good to know.  That or its just body horror/squick.

And thats the episode. I like how Fiona calls them “kids” though shes probably about their age. 

[jiminrings]

something about making lists is just so therapeutic and it helps calm you down and i'm lagging on sleep but i can't sleep either <3 so here's the lists i could think of <3

things i wanna buy but i'm not sure if it's just impulse:

cosrx snail 96 mucin power essence something???? i see it repeatedly on my fyp and i also saw it on kehlani's vogue video and im just yearning for thee skin like that honestly

a baby blue cardigan with sheep on them because i mean sometimes i sleep thinking about it

a black carhartt sweater bc all the sweaters i have are of a white man i'm not a fan of anymore and whew did they cost a pretty penny

earrings and i want what tae was wearing in his butter photo but i cant find any links rip

an adorable lavender iphone 11 and now hear me out besties,,,, i swore that it's such an ugly fucking phone but now that the 12 dropped, then that means the prices also dropped, and well i think this is really an impulse since my xs is perfectly fine so im waiting for like two more new units to pass

airpods bc hear me out once again besties,,, i also used to fucking swear on my grave that i will nEVER get them but like,,,, it's been about eight months (?) ever since chimmy ate my wired earphones and i've been wearing chunky sony headphones (they're noise-cancelling and cool) that my brother bought and i appreciate it but i would like,,,,, to sometimes lay on my bed on my side without earmuffs on

thence items including airpod cases for airpods i don't have, a necklace, a lanyard, posters, tinboxes,,, yearning

onitsuka tiger shoes :D i have had my beat-up all-black vans for like four-five years now and i mean buying shoes in the middle of a paldogangsan is not exactly practical but i mean you wOULD also think of getting new ones when ur current pair is like rust-colored now

adobe photoshop aND illustrator subscriptions using my own money bc i've been mooching off from my brother and psd expired just this month </3 i kinda wanna open up a redbubble or so during break but like the series of trials im gonna make and the time-pressure of a month's subscription vs. the giant cost of a year's subscription,,,,, whew passing out luv

another necktie and some cute lil dog glasses for chimmy bc he was so cute in his necktie but my brother ripped it while taking it off,,, he's no doubt gonna attempt to eat the glasses but he's gonna look like gojo from jjk so i mean!!! right!!!

crochet/knitting materials bc i wanna take up a hobby but what if i end up spending money AND turning shit at it :// bae what do i do with the yarn??? BUNDLE IT BACK????

a humidifier bc they say it's good for your skin and seeing pinterest posts im all yes honey :-)

collect books for polaroids and photocards :D i finally found a link for cheap ones can i get a W in the chat lads

a heart painting canvas i saw from the bookstore bc hear me out besties +

print-outs of pictures or even my own designs (i can get send them to this store and get it printed) because i am so goddamn tIRED looking at my wall,,, im afraid to say that she is a misplaced common bitch with a mots poster i slapped on the middle

a bt21 plushie so i could take those pictures where they're tucked in bed or holding a knife or sth hee-hes

cute little pastel crate thingies i probably won't use because they're that cute

a laptop stand bc macbooks heave under intense pressure,, awhile ago i was backing up 38gb worth of photos so i can delete from my phone and i thought she was gonna pass out

a keyboard you can connect to your laptop bc it just hit me that oh my god,,,, one day your keys are gonna be so stiff from so much use and getting them replaced would be a burden

a red thread string bracelet because i'd like to feel loved pls and thank u <3 does my personality not tell you that at da very beginning

wait i actually cant think of anything else

YOOOOO IM GETTING SLEEPY

anyways speaking of, so back in like late december/early january, i started listening to sleep music right

i went from koya 8hr sleeping loop to chimmy 8hr sleeping loops and nOW i'm on this decalcomania 2hr loop!!! with 8hrs, i could monitor how long i slept, but with 2hrs, i know i could sleep before it runs out <3

alright that's it mwah forehead kiss besties

YO LMK ABOUT YOUR LISTS!!!! i'm nosey like that :D

[deadlyaffairs]

I love you

This is part of my lil challenge, where I am challenging myself to write for seven days straight. Pray for me.

Prompt: We’re roommates and you make me so mad! But I love you.

Words: 2,089 (honestly didn’t feel like that)

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader, Roommates!AU, Musicians!AU

A/N: Inspired heavily by Burlesque, or well more importantly the friends-to-lovers, roommates with angst but ultimately fluff trope! That was long to write lol. Also, I know I said the second one-shot was coming out later today, but that was before the idea struck me and it kinda feels good to be caught up since technically I was already behind on my challenge. Hope this makes up for it and hope you ENJOY!

It was late at night when Ben awoke to the sound of the flat’s door being opened and gently shut. He had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but would never admit that.

Around mid-day, Ben is sitting at the island laptop opened and writing some lyrics. He looks up and smiles at you as you walk through after unlocking the door. “You got home pretty late. Quite unusual.” He says taking his bottom lip between his fingers guarding his face.

You glance at him, your body heating up in embarrassment. Your heart beating rapidly as suddenly the feelings you’ve been having for Ben begin to surface. “Oh yeah, sorry, I-I well I sort of met up with that one guy... Landon. The one who's been coming into the club lately.”

“Landon that prick?”

You watched Ben fight to look at you longer than necessary. You looked at your feet in light sadness. However, your eyes were ready to bug out of their sockets when you remembered the flashy shoes Landon had left you at rehearsal.

When you looked up, Ben was typing at the computer, trying to put you at the back of his mind. You squared your shoulders suddenly angry at his comment and dropped your keys onto the key foyer and practically stomp to your bedroom.

“New shoes?” Ben asks just as your about to shut your door. You look back at him. His eyes are still trained on screen and his fingers are still moving. But you hear the word he mutters. “Classy...”

At that, you feel your blood boil, and your chest is rising and now your body is filled with anger. You huff and slam the door hard enough to resonate against the wall it was on but, not hard to cause a disturbance.

A few days later, you’ve still been ignoring Ben. It’s been four days of silence from your end that Ben is angry at you being angry at him.

“You know ‘s only one reason why reason a bloke buys women shoes ya?”

You glare at him as you shut your bedroom door. You walk out in a small number you only bring out to really make some people mad. The v-line plunged down to highlight the valley of your chest, your skin was practically glowing in the faint light of the flat’s terrible lighting. The dress was tight-fitting and stopped a little higher on the thigh. The silk material was silver and the flashy shoes you were given tied together beautifully.

“So what if I’m getting a little male attention?”

“It’s a bit more than a little ya?”

“Not from anyone that matters.” You mutter not looking back to gauge his reaction. You’ve said what you’ve said, there was no taking it back or fixing it.

For Ben, it was a blatant jab at him. At his feelings. They had both been playing a game of cat and mouse. Not knowing they spent too much time switching between the two to realize neither were getting any catching done.

The two of you spent more days ignoring each other. Staying in your room or Ben staying in his. Avoiding each other around the rest of the flat. You decided to start spending your days with Landon, getting to know him, doing things like going out to eat, watching movies. You liked going out, but you couldn’t help but feel hollow inside your chest because at every moment you could, you spent it picturing Ben. Doing these things with you and not Landon.

The next night you get home late, all the lights except the kitchen one are off. You furrow your brows and walk inside. You see no faint glow of light under Ben’s bedroom door and sigh, biting your lip you go to your room, you undress and get ready for bed.

A few hours later you woke up to noises that sounded blurred with the door shut, but you knew better. Ben was doing it on purpose, pressing the highest setting of the blender. You groan and rise out of your warm bed, feeding exactly into what he wanted, to rile you up. 

“Ben... Ben... Ben... Jones!” You say over the noise of the blender. Ben is making what appears to be one of his many shakes. He stops only when you call him Jones because He can’t help but love that you’re one of few who actually still call him by his last name, his real one.

“Goodmorning love, sleep well? Shake?”

“No... a little peace and quiet would be lovely.”

Ben presses the blender, giving an unspoken reply. You squint your eyes at him.

“Really now?” You go to ask but Ben again presses the button on the blender the noise returning. You purse your lips and turn around ready to go back to ignoring him, you’ve taken three steps but face him once more “Christ Ben! What is your problem? You’re acting like a fucking prick!”

“It’s not just me ya? You know at the club, we’re like a family, we look out for each other.”

“Right, like Lucy and Rami, Joe.”

“Ya? What about Landon eh? He looks out for you? y/n? He can make things happen for you.”

“He’s a good man, a smart one at that. He goes for what he wants.”

“In the end, it’s about the choices you make love,” Ben says as he stands in front of you, shake long forgotten. He stares you down for a moment before walking off towards his bedroom.

“Oh that’s genius, you’re a bartender/ drummer who writes songs that are never ready.” You say without really wanting to but angry at him for coming at you the way he has. 

Ben slowly stops and turns to you, “Alright, I see then.” He shuts the door behind him and you exhale deeply, shutting your eyes.

Ben and you ignore each other. It doesn’t last long, a day and a half. But it was enough to get your skin to crawl, what you had to say constantly eating at you.  Naisa, a girl from the club where Ben and you worked was getting married and you both had been invited, Ben wasn’t wrong, at the club you all were like family.

You wore a simple red dress, it was long sleeve but was off the shoulder. It stopped right above the knee and you paired it with your tan heels. The makeup was simple, you never truly cared to get doll up yourself, but heavy makeup came with the job. You wore a similar shade of red on your lips.

You arrived later than Ben, he was home for the first part of you getting ready but when you walked out completely finished he was gone, had he been for long? You didn’t know.

At the reception for the wedding you tried to look for the blond but to no prevail. You had caught him briefly at the ceremony. He sat a few rows in front of you. You about given up trying to find him when you reached the bar. 

“A shot of tequila please.”

“Two please.”

You glanced at your side and saw Ben, who was clearly already feeling a little bit drunk.

“Looking lonely there Ben.” You say

“Liberated, questionable. Libated, definitely. Lonely? No, not lonely. Never lonely. Cheers” Ben says smoothly.

Your chest pings at that, was that supposed to hurt as much as it did? Was that meant for you? You scoff and faced away from him.

“Clink!” Ben says and downs the shot. You fight the giggle that makes its way out, downing your own shot.

Ben nudges you and is suddenly in your space. “Love are you still mad at me? Cus..” He slurs just a bit before picking himself back up. Completely in your face now, which you're sure is red from how hot it feels. “Cus if you are... bring it on baby.”

“Are you drunk?” You ask even though you know the answer. You want him to realize how drunk he is acting.

Just as you ask the DJ plays Bruno Mars’ Calling All My Lovelies. “I love this song!” Ben shouts standing and giving the DJ and look.  You walk away since he is not paying attention to you anymore.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ben says as he grips your arm pulling your body back into his. To stop yourself from hitting him too hard you put your hand to his chest as you’re pulled back into him. You can feel his body warmth and remove your hand.

He has his arm under yours and his free hand grabs the one you’ve lowered. “I need to apologize to you.”

“What for.”

He gives you a look, and even now it still takes your breath away, how he can simply look that good? How can he make your blood boil, but get you weak in the knees?

“For being a prick.”

“You were.”

“I was.”

“Mm-hm.”

He smiles at you but it falters just slightly before he asks “Why are you here alone?”

You look up at him, his eyes the brightest green you’ve ever seen. You step just a little closer to him. “Do I look alone to you?”

His smile slowly makes its back to his features before he dips you, changing the mood drastically. Later that night you two are stumbling through your flat. The reception and day over with. You fall onto the couch and kick your feet up.

“My feet are killing me! Please take off these shoes Ben.”

He follows you to the couch and yanks at the heel. You laugh as he fumbles with one. “I got it, oh whoa, whoa, aha!” He says once they’re both off.

Your laughter dies down after the good show you received. You look up at him, you hope your eyes are saying everything you can’t bring yourself to say. Ben too, watches you, he’s standing over you and from this angle he can’t stop picturing you underneath.

“Good night.”

“Night.”

Ben walks to his bedroom, shutting the door. You sigh and sit on the couch for a bit. You rub your neck as you try to stop your thought from going back to Ben. However, your thoughts are cut short when Ben’s door opens and he stands there in a blue sheep pajama set. You laugh at it.

“Cute.”

“Mum got em, thank you.” He walks out to the front door. Locking it. He turns to you “Forgot to lock the door.”

You nod. “Got it?”

The lock makes a noise as he twists it once again, Ben’s green eyes find yours and you want to do nothing more but dive into them. “Good,” he says. He walks to his bedroom, pauses and looks at you, “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Ben shuts his door and you barely had time to blink before it is ripped open with his shirt gone. “Back again?” You ask with a smile.

“Water... don’t need a nasty hangover in the morning.”

“Right.”

Ben walks to his room once more, he stands in the doorway looking at you. “Good night, again.” He smiles, shutting his door.

“Night... again,” you say to yourself and begin taking your jewelry off. You've turned away from Ben’s door, not being able to see.

It’s opened once more and you laugh quietly to yourself not bothering to look at him, continuing with tugging the jewelry off.

“I think I’m hungry. Yeah... I’m a bit famished.” He walks past the couch to the kitchen and you have to look twice to make sure you saw what you did. His bare ass. You cover your face as laughter rakes through your body.

“Jones!” you peek through your fingers, “Your! It’s...”

He holds out a box of cookies, “What is so funny?” He moves away from the island looking down and using the box to cover his manhood. “Oh, well, I never.” He says in his best southern American accent. 

You continue to laugh, shielding your eyes but also giving in and opening your eyes a few times. He walks over to the couch. He stands over you for a moment. “Want a cookie?” He says normally as he shakes the box, his body is red which tells you he is nervous. You bite your lip, almost taking the bait. He shrugs and walks off. 

“No? Well if you change your mind... you know where they are.” He sends you a wink before shutting the door with his leg and one hand.

You watch and watch. The door remaining shut longer than you hoped. His light also turns off. The smile leaves your face and you begin to grab your things, ready to head to your bedroom. The door to Ben’s door opens slower this time and you look up, not shielding your eyes because let's face it, you knew him too well.

He walks out of his bedroom and he’s dressed in his usual sleep attire. Sweats and no shirt. You chew your bottom lip and you open your mouth to say something but he stops you with his lips. The kiss feels like it was always meant to. A secret told... a promise kept. It was slow, everything felt like it went slowly when the skin of his lips melded against yours.

Ben pulls away and you’re both silent, breathing, tired of waiting. The kiss ignites something in the two of you.

“I love you.” You say and although Ben curses himself for not saying it first, he doesn’t stop himself from saying it back.

“I love you too.”

TAGLIST:  @fallingprincess​

LOVE YOU <3

[movedbloglmao]

Because I’m obligated to ask, opinions on Minecraft mobs? :0c

OH FUCK YEA

(i hope you want like,,, an entire infodump, bc i'm autistic and dk how to shut up)

for passive mobs used for food, i liked sheep the best bc i always farm them. cows and pigs are neat too. chickens are kinda lame but they're easy to breed so that balances out. fish,, exist. they're fish.

(does anybody even farm rabbits? very cute but i never do anything with them)

bees are very good, except they're too rare and i keep accidentally hitting them while trying to use a lead bc switch controls are hard :(

tropical fish were the best addition to minecraft ever and actually lessened my extreme anxiety about minecraft ocean :3

villagers are annoying tbh, i just loot the villages and kill the golems for iron. illagers are also annoying and i hate them.

basic overworld hostile mobs - skeletons are the bane of my existence bc i can't use a bow. zombies are just annoying. i don't mind spiders. fuck creepers.

nether mobs - pigmen are a classic! very chill i love them. piglins are good i love trading with them for ender pearls so i don't have to kill a million endermen. hoglins are stupid and op. striders are ugly and i love them. magma cubes are annoying. blaze are annoying. i hate wither skeletons.

silverfish are horrible little monsters and i hate them.

endermen are top tier i love them.

i never encounter slimes and i don't particularly have an opinion but they should come in different colors, and witches are fine ig, i never really encounter them.

phantoms are annoying in concept but i sleep most nights so i don't encounter them.

drowneds are stupid and awful and uncreative i hate them they're just underwater zombies wtf mojang.

guardians,,, exist??? they're there i think?? they seem op but i've like. Never encountered one lmao.

the ender dragon is good but also i've,,, never killed her legitimately lmaoo.

the wither seems op and hard and i'm sure i'll never defeat it.

ehhhh,,, i think those are all the mobs?? don't kill me if i missed any-

[bubblegumstardust]

i havent bombarded you with questions in a long ass time so here i am (feel free to skip some if its too much): 1, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 (i know you probably won’t even have to google), 16, 17, 18, 24, 27, 29, 33, 36, 41, 47, 51, 58, 59, 61, 66, 71, 74, 75, 76, 79, 80, 90, 95 and finally 100🥰🥰

Dear God Chelle 😂😂💕💕

So sorry this is so long but I can't do read more on mobile

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

I try to have more cereal generally but I just chuck milk in randomly and if it ends up being more then it ends up being more 🤷‍♀️

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I generally just use an actual bookmark, but some things I've used in a pinch are: receipts, a pen, sunglasses, some mail, another book, debit card, a hairband, my purse

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

I don't drink coffee and I just have a teaspoon or 2 of sugar in my tea

7: do you name your plants?

Yep, I have 2 in my room called Ellie and Nyah. I even named their pots because they're cute and shaped like a sheep and a hippo! The pots are called Pippa and Mimi and they're girlfriends

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Generally writing I guess. I do a lot of painting/drawing too but that's less feeling expression and more just fun.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Yep, and I'm probably very annoying to share space with because I do it a lot

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

On my side and I have to switch like every 10 minutes when I'm trying to sleep or I get uncomfortable

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

Literally cannot think off the top of my head. @wonderfilledness, remind me please. Also Chelle tell me any of ours I might have forgotten.

12: what’s your favorite planet?

In our solar system, Pluto because fuck science, it's a planet! Other than that there's a planet I can't remember the name of that, because of rotation speeds, always has the same side facing the sun so like most of the planet is uninhabitable except a thin strip on either side between the two

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

The pup. Also I was helping my mum make masks and I completely fucked up and it was really funny

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

Ngl it would be a mess. Also probably covered in books and art stuff and it'd probably be light and airy with lots of plants and cute pastel colours

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

Oh where to begin! Okay so for one NASA had to design a special pen for use in space because due to the lack of gravity, normal pens don't work. Any liquid in space will form itself into a sphere due to surface tension. Sunsets on Mars are blue. There's a planet where it's constantly raining glass sideways because wind speeds are so high. There's a (I think) dwarf planet in our solar system that they nicknamed The Goblin. Planet 9 is something we can observe exists but no one can find it and it might not be a planet at all. It could be a black hole or something. The moon is slowly drifting away. I'm gonna stop here but I could go on for ages.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

Fucken love a good spaghetti bolognese

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Kinda want it pastel pink or purple again but also really wanna dye it like a deep turquoise colour

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

Excuse me how dare you assume I've done anything dumb! Tbh I definitely have but again my memory is really bad for stuff like this so I'm gonna turn to @wonderfilledness and @mooncloudsea for this again

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Tbh, you Chelle. Also I'd definitely trust Alice with them but it's somehow easier to tell you because admiting stuff face to face is horrible and I can only talk to you online really

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

I don't like gum

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Everything all you guys do is cute 😘💕

33: what’s your fave pastry?

C r o i s s a n t s

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Hmmm. I don't know what my mood is right now so like idk?

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

I mean I'm pretty sure the last book I actually read was Aurora Burning so I gotta say that

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Well there's plenty of foods I don't like but I'm not sure I'd ban any of them because there's always people who do like them.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

Okay it makes no sense but I always think of Alice when I here B0$$ by Fifth Harmony because it's one of the songs we always end up screaming along to in the car

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

I feel like Alice is a vodka aunt and maybe I'm the wine mum?

59: what’s your favorite myth?

Idk actually. I quite like the echo myth though

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

Honestly I have no idea 😂

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

Small little delicate one with lots of small cute flowers like daisies and other pink white and purple ones. Also it would be full of forget me nots because they're my favourite flowers.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Peppermint all the way

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

They have short brown hair and give some of the best hugs. They're a couple inches taller than me and will not let me forget it. They also steal all my old clothes and would probably steal my dog if given the chance. They need to learn to fucken drive already and it's been too long since I last saw them

75: tell us about your pets!

He babey. He also a little shit but I adore him

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

So many things. Probably most importantly, applying for uni

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Lol no one likes me enough to do something cute for me

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

Light purple. I chose it when we first moved here but painted it even lighter a couple years in

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

I'm generally not the biggest fan of cities but I actually really loved living in Nottingham. It was super developed and you had like everything you could need and want there but also really kept its historic feel and it never felt so overcrowded like places like London do and idk, it was just a really nice place to live

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

I don't really have any in particular. Probably do some more art and writing and stuff but idk really

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

I usually pick future no question but like I'm a little concerned as to what such a near future will actually look like. Maybe the past so I can redo some stuff and make a few better life decisions and get help for my mental health sooner and also maybe find a way to do something to prevent some of the awful things happening right now

[nanoland]

mazikeen/eve/michael fic in progress

title: Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael 

blurb: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet. 

warnings: Spoilers for Season 5. 

0  

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.” 

0 

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.” 

0 

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?” 

0

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep. 

0

It was night when he awoke.  

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”

(to be continued)