#she's wearing the fangs she got from her dragon kill as a trophy (and a reminder that she deserves to be here)

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

the monster hunter kyoko

the kirigiri family is a family of monster hunters (traditionally tasked with eliminating monsters that encroached on human territory but nowadays deal with non-sentient and criminal monsters only)

originally built as a tool to be used for monster hunting, specifically, she is human-shaped and takes orders and meant to be used as bait. but jin kirigiri and his wife raised her like a child and helped her develop her own identity

can swap out many of her parts (including organs and limbs) with both mechanical and biological parts that grant her different abilities (i.e: a werewolf snout for identifying scents, harpy eyes for sharper vision). everything is ethically sourced or passed down, supposedly

gained legal independence and renown after identifying and killing a very dangerous dragon that was threatening a populace

[knamil]

The Bard’s Curse

This is a repost but when I looked for it I realized I deleted the blog it was originally on.

She was weary by the time she reached the stately, though slightly run down, home. She had run the whole way, fear and anger providing fuel when food could not. The farms had all been burned. She planned to demand aide or beg if necessary, but as she approached the entrance the man leaning casually against the doorway gave her pause.

It was not that he was intimidating, quite the opposite in fact. He was unprepossessing, his face weathered, his body stooped with age. Yet he wore the Sword of Balanth casually in its scabbard and the Ring of Kotoru graced his little finger just above an arthritic knuckle. His eyes still sharp and curious turned slightly alarmed at her condition.

“Before you speak,” he said, “come, rest and eat. I have had far too many messengers toil through hardship to deliver their news of ill tidings only drop to drop dead at my feet once their duty had been discharged.” Before she could answer he turned his back and retreated into the dimly lit house. She was forced to follow.

She ate alone at a table meant to host more than a dozen, he served her with his own hands. The food was good, though plain, and seemed far more restorative than simple bread and stew should account for. “This is Milandria bread,” she said, with a full mouth and wide eyes.

“It is, gifted to me by the king of that noble land,” he admitted. “The loaf from which I cut it neither ages nor ends.” He shrugged. “Convenient, though my breakfast toast is not as good as it could be. It’s better if the bread is a little stale, holds more milk that way.”

She swallowed the mouthful she had eaten and felt as if she could run for miles without tiring.

“Feeling better?” he asked. “Not going to die after telling me your tale of woe?”

“It’s not funny,” she said, struggling to throttle her anger. There was no reason he should care and he had been kind so far.

“No, it’s likely not,” he said. “I apologize.”

She nodded and pushed her plate away, folding her hands in front of her to keep them from twisting with anxiety. “It’s a beast that breathes fire and poison, but the one who commands it is a wizard.”

“Are there no decrepit old men left in your town to send after it? You had to seek one out?”

She flushed with shame. She had been asking herself the same thing. Whatever he may have done before, what could he possibly do now? She answered anyway. “There is no one left in my town and the old men who died when the beast came had never slain a dragon.” The walls around them boasted numerous trophies. Among the banners gifted by grateful kingdoms were dragon’s teeth, serpent’s fangs, and the skulls of beasts she could not name.

He followed her gaze around the room, but it was her first statement that caught his interest. “No one left in your town? You are the sole survivor?”

She nodded. She was past tears at least for now.

“Then why bother?” he asked.

Her anger broke free. “There are other towns. I tried to warn them, but they won’t leave, they won’t fight. He’ll come for them all.”

“And you know this how?”

“Men like him don’t stop unless someone stops them,” she said.

She had said those words before when she tried to get the mayors of other towns to do something. She had been passionate, wearing the deaths of her family, her pain, and horror on her sleeve. The kind ones called her a child. Gave her pity and told her that someone in her town must have angered the wizard. There was no danger because they were good people who had no dealings with wizards. The unkind said she was to blame, cursed, and threatened to stone her if she did not leave. Now she was just tired and besides, someone like this old man already knew.

“Hmph,” he said and stood. “Come with me.”

They walked down a long hallway to a stairwell meant for servants, though there were no signs of servants here. Evidence of past bravery hung from every possible surface. In contrast, the basement, slightly cobwebbed, was nearly empty except for a plain wooden chest, not even locked.

“I was a thief in my long-ago youth, not older than you actually,” he said as he rummaged through the wooden chest. It was filled with various baubles of no particular origin, most barely even qualifying as junk. “A man came to my town looking to slay a dragon. Back then there were nasty creatures everywhere and he was looking for glory even though he already had it. He had the finest armor and weapons, a whole group of sycophants just following him around. They all boasted loudly of their conquests. Overconfident, careless, obnoxious, I stole from him because he didn’t tip the barmaid and insulted the minstrel’s songs. Then he and his friends went off to fight his battle and never returned.” He glanced back at her, chomping his teeth together. “The dragon got them.”

She stood awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt. There were countless tales of his heroism, not a single one mentioned he had been a thief.

“What no one knew about the would-be dragon slayer was that he had something of a reputation. Immortal or god touched some called it, he could walk into anything and come out unscathed, or perhaps with a dashing new scar to impress his new lady with. Once he was killed, well, certain powers took that as a sign to start causing trouble.” He continued poking through the items in the chest as if looking for something specific. He pulled out a doll, much played with and beloved. He touched it gently and laid it on the side before taking up his story again.

“The first to come looking for conquest was a man who fancied himself a wolf-king. He had made some kind of pact with a forest-nymph that allowed him to become a monster. Half man, half wolf, all hunger and evil to the core. He spread his gift to the other members of my town. He turned the barmaid who, caught in the blood frenzy brought on by his plague, killed the minstrel with her teeth.” He sighed. “He turned to me, offering death or an eternal hunger. I took a broken bottle of absinthe and stabbed him in the heart.”

“That was the werewolf of Gasmorda,” she recalled. “You were there to free the town of his influence.”

“I was a bystander with blind luck,” he corrected sharply. “Blind luck and this,” he said finally finding what he had been searching for. “I’d stolen it from the dead dragon slayer.” He held it up to the light. It was a scrap of metal the size of a coin, on it were words engraved in a language she had never seen before. Singularly unimpressive, no amount of polish could give the metal any luster.

She peered at it doubtfully. “What does it say?” she asked.

“No one knows, though the wizards I’ve shown it to were unable to destroy it or me as long as I held it.”

She blinked. “That thing… is how you’ve managed to do so much?”

He nodded. “The one thing it can’t save me from is time,” he looked down at himself then back at her. He held it out to her in offering. “If I give this to you, you can defeat your wizard as long as you keep it with you.”

She did not know if she believed him, but she could not force him to fight even if she had felt it right to ask. She took the token. “Tha-”

His hand closed around hers, the scrap biting into the flesh of her fingers. “Do not thank me, girl. I have done you no favors. This is not a gift, it is the eye of the storm. You will survive whatever you choose, but others will not be so lucky. Less so the longer they keep your company. For with this in your possession, trouble will seek you out and dog you until the end of your days. You will lose more of what you value than thanks and trophies can ever compensate. Your heart will break past bearing only to have someone more broken beg you for help.” He released her hand. Suddenly the emptiness of the house made sense.

“Now go,” he said, turning to pick up the doll. He kissed it and put it back with the other mementos. He touched the items in the box lovingly. “End your wizard and his evil. You have my best wishes and my sympathy.”

She clutched the token in her hand and left. If he was telling the truth it would be all she needed, if not she and many others were already dead. Nevertheless, she stole a suit of armor, a sword, and a shield on her way out. She had a feeling he would understand.

[i-sold-my-soul-to-loki-blog]

Chapter 2: The Devil Is My Witness

Hell wasn’t normally a nice place. It was hot, cramped and open flames and lava rivers were everywhere. On the celestial safety scale, it ranked a solid 2 outta 10. That being said the main palace was a stunning and comfortable place. The walls floors and roof was made of either carved obsidian or marble. Colored polished crystals and stones adorned the lights and windows giving it a sacred feeling angels so loved.

The main throne was made from cast silver and ancient demon blades. Sitting in it was Morningstar himself and a little ember demon kit. He was stroking its back and feeding it some kind of meat. She really didn’t want to know what kind.

“Ah, you are here. No need to worry I know it wasn’t you who made the deal to enter heaven. I also know it wasn’t you who stole my brother’s sword. However, I do need your help getting it back.” He took off his sunglasses revealing a pair of ruby red eyes and deep abyssal black wings.

“Now time for proper introductions. I’ve wanted to do this since the first day we met but a fallen angel can’t be too careful. I’m Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to Hell.” His smile was warm and revealed a pair of long almost vampiric fangs. She could almost believe he fathered that race, almost.

“Now I know what you’re thinking. You can’t be the devil you’re too nice and way too handsome. Doesn’t he have goat legs and horns? I assure you I am Satan or Lucifer or the Devil whatever you want to call me I am in fact he.” He stood and gave a dramatic bow. He looked eager as he Awaited their response.

“Actually…” Loki started. “What she is thinking is dear fates why am I surrounded by these crazy drama club goths.” He gave her his best disapproving stare. “I resent that remark by the way. You see this is why I can’t take her places, such a disobedient wolf.” he smiled toward Lucifer as if it was a running joke between the two Gods.

“No.” She interjected. “This is why I can’t have nice things. I meet a lovely semi-normal person who isn’t trying to burn down the town, send me on crazy errands, seduce half the population or trying to start a war and have a decent camaraderie with and he turns out to be an angel. But not just any angel he’s the adorable non-uptight human acting fallen one. Honestly can’t I just meet a nice vampire or maybe a swamp mermaid hell I’ll settle for a dragon at this point.” Her rant lasted longer than she’d have liked but it was getting really annoying her lack of suitable suitors. In true male fashion however they missed the point.

“You think he’s adorable yet I’m just meh.” Loki sounded offended.

“You like having me as a friend?” She could’ve sworn she saw a tear. “I’ve never had friends before, can I please keep you as one.” Damn, he sounded so dang sincere.

“It’s not like you being the Devil changes anything. My best friends are Loki god of Mischief and Hades lord of the dead. Trust me Arch Angel Lucifer will fit right in with this crowd.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder. Yeah her friends were a weird group.

“When did you befriend Hades?” They asked in unison. Loki completely missing the God of Mischief is my best friend part.

“A few years ago during the whole Hammer of Thor incident. I had to retrieve water from the Phlegethon to appease the dragon Gajeel. Struck a deal with Hades so me, him, Hel and Xolotl occasionally get together for tea and trade stories about our respective pantheons. Yes Loki, since you don’t hang with the Norse deities you are considered mine by default.”

The two seemed fascinated by this little tidbit. Hades and Hel don’t talk to anyone yet this little wolf succeeded. Of course, it was no surprise, he was prone to sending her off to do random tasks he couldn’t which required a certain amount of finesse and trust building. Still, it was a bit disconcerting that she had these strong allies he had no clue about.

If she wanted it would be easy to wriggle out of her contract. Especially now that Lucifer was among those friends. He was considered the God of bargains and deals by most of the other Gods. Loki stared at her, silently praying that she wouldn’t choose to leave.

“I know what you are thinking trickster and I have no plans of breaking our little deal. It’s far too much fun being able to roam anywhere in the nine realms without bothering a dimensional sorcerer or sorceress. Besides as troublesome as these jobs of yours are they do past the time between bouts of boredom.” The words were thrown out rather absentmindedly as she studied the group of demons that wandered in.

He could never understand how she handled demokyn so easily. Most of them were either nauseating to look at or to smell, this group was the rare ones that were both. Of course like most celestial beings, if you could call them that, they could take human form. The thing was that unless it was necessary they refused to. He really wished that wasn’t the case right now.

The largest pair of demons were a sickly green color, covered with large bulky scales they had mostly serpentine bodies. They had the chest of a bodybuilder and where their feet should have been were two spiny clusters that seemed to drag the creatures across the floor. They had no hands and instead used their anglerfish like jaws to each hold an arm of their captive. They smelt like rotten desert carrion.

The other three were humanish in looks. Their skin, however, was marbled with shades of red orange and yellow. Their hands and feet were webbed and red fins protruded from their arms, legs and backs. In place of hair were red and orange banded spines that seemed to go well with their bright golden eyes. Like the others they had the jaws of deep sea fish. Their scent however was in a much more charming burnt leather range.

Their captive however seemed like your average human. Tan skin, black hair, brown eyes, two arms, two legs and a bit on the skinny side. He wore a red and orange camo catsuit. He looked a bit worse for the wear but if he had been running around Hell it could’ve been worse. No surprise Skye and Lucifer seemed to know him.

“Is that GREG? Mr. I’m going to kill all the vampires in Romania GREG. Mr. Let me wear your pelt as a trophy GREG.” By the way she said his name he could tell Greg was no a friend.

“Yes.” the Devil responded. “After you caught the guy trying to kill off my precious Nephilim son Asreal I had him brought down here and thrown in the rivers of fury. The five you see before you are lava nymphs. Well except for the guards those are hell born Naga, a gift from my middle eastern partner.”

He seemed so casual about it. Oh yeah don’t mind him I just had the guy drug down here to torture for eternity. It's no big deal really. Just gonna drown in him the fury bled from wronged men. Of course he couldn’t judge, he once turned a human who threatened Nami into a rabbit, gave him immortality and set him loose in a building full of hungry kitsune.

“Okay then.” That’s his lycan and her confused acceptance of the vengeful acts of scorned Gods. “why is he currently in here then?” Straight to the point, good girl.

“You see…” One of the Lava nymphs started.

“An angel came and said they needed his help tracking something or someone down.” The center one continued.

“Since he was cursed by the Dimensional Witch Eternity he can hop between worlds but will only land in the most guarded place in that world.” the third finished.

“The angel thought that if the sword was missing it’d be heavily guarded and they would send him in to scout the place. If he got killed the process he’d just return to us and report.” They said in unison. The naga nodded in agreement causing their teeth to dig into Greg’s arms. Blood started to run onto the marble floor in a steady stream. Hungry calls could be heard throughout the palace.

“What did the Angel look like?” Lucifer asked as he walked towards the human. His red eyes had turned a sickly yellow shade. Black scales replaced the feathers on his wings and a long dragon like tail flashed into view. The not so subtle reminder that when an angel falls it becomes a Demon King.

“It was tall but looked almost completely human. The eyes were like mercury and golden wings were blinding though they had black stripes. It chose a dark-skinned suit, like maybe a Jamaican but was built like a pro boxer. Unlike most it didn’t seem bothered by the air down here, in fact, it was smiling.” The nymphs shuddered.

“It seems my dear brother Michael paid us a visit. It is his sword after all. Still what he says goes even if this traitorous bastard doesn’t deserve to be let go.” He pulled the human from the Nagas jaws causing a fresh spray of blood to coat the walls and floor.

The sound he made couldn’t have been human but it came from one. His cries of pain only caused the distant howls of hunger to grow louder and move closer. Slithering and tapping could be heard on the windows outside. Something resembling a gulper eel with wings flashed into view outside.

Loki took a few steps closer to Skye for comfort. She moved them both a good two feet further from Greg. As did his escort party. A large growl rattled the building and several of the demons retreated from view outside.

“Loki, speaking one Celestial being to another, can I trust you to return this filth to me once the blade is found.” his voice was a low whisper that bounced of the walls and chilled him to his bones.

“Considering I don’t want him, to begin with, I’ll happily return him to you the moment he is no longer of use.” He forced himself to swallow as the urge to throw up became stronger.

He turned toward his lycan for comfort but found only seething hatred in her eyes. Usually, they were a light blue, the color of the fjords, sometimes like glaciers in the winter. Right now, however, they were a deep navy, like waves during a storm. She was fighting down the inner demon that made lycans, lycans. No doubt it had something to do with Lucifer’s current mood, the calls of the demokyn outside and Greg’s pleased smirk.

“Skye luna Starshadow do you swear that no matter what this soul will be returned to where it belongs?” He was full on Demon King now, Greg little more then a chew toy in the grasp of a Great White. Charcoal black skin was covered in red Enochian script in complex patterns. Black bat like wings with red stripes stretched behind him. A long black reptilian tail wrapped around the throne, blood red barbs carving grooves in the floor. Large elk like antlers graced his head, each branch ending in a barbed point.

“The devils as my witness I will drag him back here myself.” Her usual calm voice was little more than a snarl.

“Good now begone. We’ll catch up after.” with a puff of black sooty smoke they found themselves in the heart of Helheim.