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rayneeeeeeeeeee · 6 months ago

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"STAND AND DELIVER!"

A fanfiction about Sofia Wilmot and Nell Jackson. I've been cooking up this baby instead of doing my revision, so pls like it <3

It's on wattpad ( pls don't judge. it's the only thing i can write on rn)

TW: Implied attempt at SA

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Lady Sofia Wilmot had just come from putting away her brother to the prisons. With the bribe that he ought not to be hanged (although rightfully deserved) for his actions. Murdering Sam trotter, their father, and conspiring with a Jacobite.

Although Sofia knew she was held partially accountable, she could not stand to see her brother in the same light. She'd turned to darkness all because of his foolish actions. His actions had forced her to hurt the innocent. And lose her father in the process. Of course, the late Earl of Poynton had been killed because of his attempt at eternal darkness. Bringing forth the night but not succeeding with the help of a certain rogue.

Sofia twirled at the dark raven locks of her hair. She'd been dressed in her widowed clothing. All black and her face covered with a veil. She'd been married off to some rich magistrate who'd died soon after their wedding.

Sofia had been relieved of her matrimonial responsibilities as a wife and continued to live within the walls of her fathers estate.

Well, at least until Thomas stuffed it up in her polite words.

But now she was well and truly alone. No father. No mother. No brother. Not even friends. She had nobody to turn to in her moment of sorrow. And she knew it.

Surprisingly, no new magistrates came to take Lord Blanchefords place after his death and Thomas's arrest. Most likely, due to a hefty bribe from Sofia. She had become the new magistrate. probably the first woman to have ever taken over an estate in the 1700s. She'd become rich. And had lowered her tenants' rent, much to all of their surprises. Because what could Lady Wilmot do? She couldn't change her circumstances by being cruel to those below her. All she could do was sit in her late fathers office and do his work.

Sofia sat in the carriage. Daydreaming about what could've happened if she hadn't trusted Poynton. Or if she'd never framed Nell Jackson with the murder of her father. Of course, she was too prideful to admit her guilt for the Renegade. But her guilt still had remained true.

Her association with the dark arts had ruined her. Permanent scars of the blackness that had corrupted her lined her spine and chest. Although its growth had ceased, it was a constant reminder of her faults. And those marks would be hard to forget.

It was the reason she was constantly wrapped in the finest silks no matter the weather. But this night, it would be the cause of her greatest misfortunes.

"STAND AND DELIVER!"

A voice from outside the carriage bellowed. It had reminded her of the Rogue she'd formed an alliance with. Except now, they had the full intent to rob her and strip her of her garments. Just as these horrible men would do. Sofia had not been fearing for her wealth and possessions. She was in fear of what they would do to her. Her ears seemed to ring, and all sound had blurred into an unintelligible fuzz in her ears. These masked bandits upon horses had pistols and knives. It was one to four, and Sofia couldn't do anything. She pleaded they did not do anything to her. She threatened with her position and wealth. She offered properties. But nothing seemed to convince them.

"Please, I'll offer anything! Just please don't do anything to me!"

She begged.

"Lookie here, John, the pretty little thing going to offer us goons a hefty cash prize!"

One of the ruffians taunted.

"I don't know, Mointon. i think I've got a better idea..."

The goon pointed the pistol at her throat and lifted her chin with it.

"Take off yer garments luv, I'd like to see the pretty little figure underneath."

His words struck deep within Sofia, and his actions had led her to fear once more. When she refused, he'd grabbed her and held the gun to her head. Sofia yelped and tried to wriggle free from his grasp.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doin lad?!"

A familiar voice cut through the ordeal. Sofia was distraught, although she'd never admit it. as the gun was still pointed towards her.

"Don't think this un'll save ya, ya prissy bitch"

The so called Mointon gritted through his teeth.

"Yeh, you think you can just force a woman to do ya biddin? , i don't think so. You prick, let the dame go."

Sofia recognised the voice as Nell Jackson. The woman who'd sacrificed her power for her brother just a few months ago.

"I'd like to see you try and take her off us. Nelly. Jackson."

The ringleader of the lot boasted.

All it took was a moment of preparation before she'd put them all on their arses. One ended up in a tree, and the others scattered in the bushes and shrubs.

"Thank you..."

Sofia whispered to Nell

"Was that a thank you from the Lady Wilmot?"

Nell teased sarcastically before she turned her heel and started walking away.

It was clear that Nell has still been bitter about the shared ordeal between them. And rightfully so.

Nell had started walking towards her horse. The Talbot was close by, and Nell had just happened to be going on a late night ride.

"Wait!" Sofia panted. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in the woods. And this Rogue was the only one around. To help her.

"What do you want." Nell spat.

Nell had tried to forget about Sofia. How badly she'd wronged her. But despite her wrongdoings Nell couldn't help bu sympathise with the pale woman. The only reason that she'd been on the path she'd taken was because of that idiot brother of hers.

Nell was furious at Sofia.

"I was curious if you could lead me to the nearest tavern to spend the night..."

Sofia hesitated.

"Blimey you tossers really do think people owe you the bloody world! You expect me to give you a place to stay after that. That! Nutter Poynton proper fucked shit up?"

Nell chastened

"I'll pay double your price."

Sofia bribed

"You know what?" Nell mocked as she paused from getting on her horse to step towards a desperate Lady Wilmot.

"What." Sofia answered firmly.

"I am absolutely fucking knackered. And I do not want to deal with your shit. So I'll let you stay. But just know this is a one off. Alright."

Nell hissed at Sofia.

"Well? What're you waiting for my lady."

Nell droned sarcastically.

Sofia felt a lump in her throat. But not one of fear. One of potential arousal.

The mere thought of setting off on horseback with a handsome Nell was a memory that would replay in her head for ages. Though she'd never admit that to the woman herself. She always found herself staring for a bit too long at all the wrong places. Even if they were at eachothers throats.

She swallowed it down. And put all her feelings aside so they could have at least one pleasant experience with eachother.

Nell was waiting for the woman in silk robes growing impatient as she'd already gotten on the horse a few seconds ago. Then finally Sofia stepped up and onto the horse.

"You know you're gonna fall off if ya don't hold on right?"

Nell stated.

"Of course i know that im not daft. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Sofia muttered.

"Well you clearly have history of being considerate..."

Nell whispered under her breath.

"What was that?"

Sofia questioned obliviously.

"Nothin just hold about my waist."

Nell said nonchalantly.

Whereas Sofia was burning up without any particular reason she was aware of. She caught a wiff of the perfume the rogue used. Surprising to the Lady. As she'd thought that Nell would smell like the lower class typically do.

With a click of her tongue the horse obeyed Nells every order. Every tug of reign. And Sofia found it mesmerising.

Sooner to Sofias dismay, they'd arrived at The Talbot. Where this moment would end.

Read more on Wattpad!

Title: Stand and deliver

#renegade nell #nell jackson #sofia wilmot #nelly jackson #nell jackson x sofia wilmot #nell x sofia

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thefisherqueen · 1 year ago

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There is the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for.”

“But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him responsible for that. It was the work of this brutal ruffian whom he had the misfortune to employ.”

“I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime he is morally guilty of any other crime which may spring from it.”

Holmes once again dropping an amazing line

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the priory school

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shroudandsands · 1 year ago

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Prompt #5: Barbarous

Sometimes it paid to be her. Flanked on both sides by her employees- Set and settled for their roles. To play, as it were, the interference. What were they interfering with? The question of the day.

Ardeth had donned his nigh-signature black and golds. A look only brought out like a blade unsheathed; for a purpose and for but a moment. Laoet stood opposite in all the same ways; cloaked in white silks lined with silver. Both with their opposite’s blade upon their hip. She thought that was a particularly fun touch and could hardly resist her grin whenever she looked upon them both. Her attention returned to the purpose of the night as both of them caught her stifling a laugh. Another party, more business, a wonderful time for one and all... if you enjoyed pontificating and being an object of attention in the midst of a myriad of people who could make you feel as if they would sell you for a singular corn chip. All in all? Something of a regular arena for herself. Though a first for Laoet in all his misfortune.

“All you have to do-” Sonono laughed as she waved her finger in a pointed gesture. “-is stand there, pretty and silent, and look intimidating. You’ll even have a mask on, just like Ardeth.” “And he keeps his mouth shut?” “He has the last several times I’ve taken him.” They both turned at the short belt of laughter from Ardeth, kicked back on the lounge chair in her office. “I’ll have you know even I’m capable of it when I try. It’s made up for by the looks on their faces- and how they look at her once they’ve looked me over.” Sonono held her palms up in a shrug as the two began to bicker almost on cue. A click of her heel brought them back to earth for a moment. “And since I keep bringing him along- and I have you on deck for once, rather than elsewhere- I thought it would be a rather fun idea to add you to the entourage. It’s... fitting. Though maybe a bit overplayed.” “I still don’t think he’s necessary-” And Ardeth started the argument once again...

She waved off the memory as she swirled the glass in her hand. So far the plan had gone swimmingly. Ardeth was keeping his mouth shut. Laoet, too. Both stood tall and intimidating... and all she had to do was smile and play nice with the rich and well-to-do who wanted strange curios or materials with which to flaunt their wealth. All of the comments on her well-behaved ruffians slid off of her as best as she could make them. Ruffians, yes. Well behaved, no. The tone it was said in? As grating as always. But that was the game. At least the two were happy to step closer at a flick of her wrist. A great conversation ender, especially when it was a simple moment of them staring down her opponent-

“Didn’t we used to rob people like this?” Laoet’s question hung in the air for a moment. Punctuated, of course, by Sonono’s palm meeting her face. She watched as the man in question sped off as fast as his legs could take him. As she heard the audible whack of Ardeth slapping the lights out of the other. She sighed.

#/Of The Jadeite Veins/Recollections #it's all fun and games until someone realizes neither of these idiots can use a sword #the three of them together are barely a threat in a fight #at least nono has a gun #FFxivWrite2023

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hadeschan · 8 months ago

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item # K22E16

RARE Pra Khun Paen Gru Wat Sing Tá-laai, Pim Ok Yai, Nua Din Kăao Pon Chom-poo, Klêuap Yang-na.A Pentagon shape Pra Khun Paen amulet, a baked clay made from kaolin (soft white clay) with creamy pink color coated with plant resin of Yang Tree or Garjan Tree. The amulet is with a bas-relief of Buddha with big chest, and the style represents Pra Buddha Chinnaraj. This ancient amulet was discovered at the ruin of Wat Sing Tá-laai, Kingdom of Ayutthaya, Phra Nakhon Si Ayutthaya Province. Made in the reign of King Naresuan the Great, the 18th monarch of Ayutthaya Kingdom (reign between BE 2133 to BE 2148 / CE 1590 to CE 1605), + 400 years ago.

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BEST FOR: Pra Khun Paen is one of Thailand’s Best amulets for Nak-layng, ruffian (a violent person, especially one involved in crime), Mafia Boss, Crime Prevention Police Officer, Park Ranger, Field Soldier and Nak-layng Poo Ying (a connoisseur of women / a womanizer). Mahasanay (Magic Charm) it helps turn you to prince charming in the eyes of girls, Metta Maha Niyom (it helps make people love you, and be nice to you), Kaa Kaai Dee (it helps tempt your customers to buy whatever you are selling and it helps attract new customers and then keep them coming back. Wealth & Prosperity, Maha Laap (it brings lucky wealth). It warns danger coming ahead, Klawklad Plodpai (it helps push you away from all danger), Kongkraphan (it makes you invulnerable to all weapon attack), Nang Nieow, a rock-hard skin that is completely impervious to damage with bludgeoning or piercing weapons, Maha-ut (it stops gun from shooting at you). Ponggan Poot-pee pee-saat Kunsai Mondam Sa-niat jan-rai Sat Meepit (it helps ward off evil spirit, demon, bad ghost, bad omen, bad spell, curse, accursedness, black magic, misfortune, doom, and poisonous animals). And this amulet helps protect you from manipulators, backstabbers, and toxic people.

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Pra Khun Paen

The Pra Khun Paen is a type of amulet with figure of Pra Buddha Chinnaraj of Wat Phra Si Rattana Mahathat Woramahawihan (Wat Yai or Wat Pra Buddha Chinnaraj) seating inside an elaborate arch. This type of amulet was first discovered at Wat Pra Roop Archaeology Site, Suphan Buri Province. And such type of ancient baked clay amulet with figure of Pra Buddha Chinnaraj is called “Pra Khun Paen” ever since. It was called Pra Khun Paen to honor the Thai famous Warrior General Khun Paen, the Governor of Suphan Buri Province in the Kingdom of Ayutthaya.

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Kaolin

Kaolin, soft white clay that is an essential ingredient in the manufacture of china and porcelain. Kaolin is named after the hill in China (Kao-ling) from which it was mined for centuries. Kaolin is found in Lampang , and Ranong Province of Thailand.

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The amulet made from soil or earth

The soil or earth is the oldest minerals on Earth, it accumulates all power of good deeds of all Arhats (or Luohan), Bodhisattva and Buddha as long as you and your enemies are standing/living on the earth, the Pra Mae Thoranee (the Earth Goddess) will witness good deeds and bad deeds, if you have made good deeds, then your good deeds have already witnessed by Pra Mae Thoranee, Pra Mae Thoranee will help you, and your enemies could not do any harm to you. And the difficulties of your life, Pra Mae Thoranee also witnesses, and Pra Mae Thoranee will ease all of your difficulties.

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Pra Long Gru or Pra Gru

Pra “Long Gru” or “Pra Gru” means amulet that was stored in the chamber of a chedi/stupa or in a container buried under the ground for many of years, and later found by someone.

According to the prophecy in Pali Canon that Buddha’s Dispensation (Buddhism), and Dharma (Buddha’s teaching) would exist and follow 5,000 years after the Buddha passed away or entered nirvana. The “Long Gru” is a Thai traditional practice to preserve Buddha amulets with figure of Buddha in them in the case that after the decline of indigenous religious practices of Buddhism, the future generations would learn that Buddhism ever to have existed on earth.

The Pra Long Gru, Thais believe that after long period of time that the Buddha amulets were kept, the power that was accumulated in each and every amulet would break apart the chamber (in Thai called Gru Takk) that amulets were hidden.

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DIMENSION: 5.40 cm high / 3.30 cm wide / 0.90 cm thick

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item # K22E16

Price: price upon request, pls PM and/or email us [email protected]

100% GENUINE WITH 365 DAYS FULL REFUND WARRANTY

Item location: Hong Kong, SAR

Ships to: Worldwide

Delivery: Estimated 7 days handling time after receipt of cleared payment. Please allow additional time if international delivery is subject to customs processing.

Shipping: FREE Thailandpost International registered mail. International items may be subject to customs processing and additional charges.

Payments: PayPal / Western Union / MoneyGram /maybank2u.com / DBS iBanking / Wechat Pay / Alipay / INSTAREM / PromptPay International / Remitly / PAYNOW

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jabbage · 1 year ago

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#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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purple-eyesgreydragon · 1 year ago

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In my Mario and Luigi game idea, Musical Mayhem. Rhythmax is the antagonist. And yes, he has four arms. Master of all Music, and King of the Music Kingdom. Or so he self-claims. He can however put his instrument where his mouth is, quite literally, and its really more instruments. While he most definitely is obnoxious and incredibly arrogant. Rhythmax can back his cockiness with incredible music skills. He has mastery over practically every instrument he's come across. May they be winds, percussion, strings, or synths. And don't get him started on his singing. Even high long notes can be reached by him, for a guy. Of course with his four arms, its easy to see why he thinks he'll always be twice the musician anyone will ever be. Not just two instruments at once. His personal favorite is his double riff electric guitar. He also can have different outfits at times to suit whatever music he may play, if he's in the mood.

Since Rhythmax thinks so highly of himself. Everyone loves music. So as such an master everyone must love him too, right? When he learned of the Music Kingdom and how leaderless they were. Of course, its only natural he should step up and make a thrown to take. The main populace of the kingdom the notelings, as hospitable as they are. Welcomed him like everyone else, much to their misfortune. Being how aggressive Rhythmax and his lackeys are to assert dominance. The notelings don't do conflict, it's just not their song. But Rhythmax reign, rules, and ruffians are throwing the entire Music Kingdom out of harmony. Everything is getting all out of whack! Plus if notelings aren't allowed to play whenever they please, they'll all get very sick. So the noble noteling Tempo goes out to find his friend Ze in search of the famous Mario Bros. In hopes they can save yet another kingdom.

But can the bros learn the musical knowhow they need to beat Rhythmax at his own game?

Rhythmax almost never takes off his headphones, at least not in public. When he's not using his extra arms, he folds them behinds him. The crown is a clip-on for his headphones he made when he anointed himself king.

I think I did well designing a Mario styled story main bad guys.

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faunastanza · 3 months ago

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The Three Little Bluffians and the Big Sad Wolf

The Three Little Bluffians and the Big Sad Wolf, by Hex

Hey it's the Ruffians again. Sorry, Bluffians. Are you excited? :|

The Bluffians are hanging out in a trojan horse. They run into what looks like a meat cleaver with an eye that says she's their mom. This cleaver will show up again later.

hey, call-clout's halo

Anyway the cleaver insults and praises them like an abusive mom and the Bluffians are weird about it, and basically Glip has unresolved issues with their mom and it all just comes out in a big lump here for whatever reason. As far as I can tell this isn't plot-related so I'm skipping most of it. The Bluffians merge into one form called the Sinchronydra, which accomplishes nothing as far as I can tell.

i don't have issues with my mom - glip, probably

Eventually after a bunch of incoherent rambling (this is incoherent even for me, and god knows how many hours I've spent trying to untangle all this nonsense), the Sinchronydra seems to shift into Inkcat's form while asking "what if I never accomplish anything?" Someone asks Inkcat what kind of dragon they are, which puzzles them.

Inkcat says that nothing about them is dragon-like, and that they just clean up after (signs/other's misfortunes/broken processes/ cycles/ new ventures), although with a bunch scribbled out so i just leaves "broken cycles". In a dragon form now, Inkcat says they remember that this is the role that devours others, and they better step back.

Out of nowhere, a crying wolf with sheep fluff around their neck names Inkcat a Villain. Crying Wolf says they're ready for their punishment, as long as it's getting mad at them and then letting them go. There's an MGS4 joke in here somewhere but I can't quite get to it.

this comic is so full of strawmen that a stiff breeze would knock it over

Wielding the cleaver, Crying Wolf tells Inkdragon that they know what they must do to monsters like them. They kind of sound like they're getting off on it though. "You're reading too much into it" you say. You'll see.

Crying Wolf screams at Inkdragon to stop trying to tell them that they're not a dragon and aren't out to get them. Inkdragon says they don't understand why they're a dragon and they werent one a second ago, and they just clean up messes as they please. They say it wasn't their choice to look like a dragon and that it frightens them too.

Crying Wolf says that Inkdragon wants them to suffer by pretending to care. Inkdragon shouts at them, "Why do you keep acting like I don't care about you? How can you not understand that by now?" Incidentally, Marl is often referred to as a wolf in these VNs. Boy, I wonder what this little skit is actually about!

Inkdragon says they're in contact with Crying Wolf's real enemy, but that that doesn't make THEM Crying Wolf's enemy as well, so why are they treating them as such? We abruptly cut to Paige sitting in what appears to be a bowl of water, saying that this will become a shrine.

scene transitions so fast they give you whiplash

Paige asks if you remember the story of Itchy Itchy except that someone else was Arch Magni of Trebol instead of Andre. She says it's because Andre never existed, then there's another line of crossed out text with two meanings. These are so annoying to summarize and they happen ALL the time. Anyway, the original sentence is "And they lived happily ever after. Because why would anyone want that horrible excuse for an art form around." and then when it's crossed out it reads "he lived? why would anyone want that"

Paige yells no, and then she starts fighting with the narrator. You might remember that before, Paige would narrate everything she did in third person. In Writer's Block, when Call-Clout pushed her far enough, she began speaking out loud instead of narrating things, and that's happening again here. I probably should have mentioned it back then, but eh. Anyway, the narration says Paige is in a rut and can't write at all, and Paige protests, saying she can save "this one" and proposes a rule. No matter what happens to us, we may be repaired, she says.

We cut to Andre who looks a bit off. He suggests to Paige that they put a little bit of themselves in the story.

well as off as mspaint scribbles can be

Weird looking Andre in bird form approaches Paige and tries to talk to her. His handwritten words are overlaid with typed ????s, so it's hard to read. All I can make out is Andre asking Paige why she's something. Maybe dreaming? Drooping? I dunno.

Paige transforms into Inkdragon, saying she's not Paige. Christ is any character who they actually say they are any more? Does any of this even mean anything?? Andre says he already knew that and tells them to bite his head off already, saying that they need to start the next sequence if they ever want to escape this wretched cycle. Don't you want that, he asks, going on to say that this is how they insert themselves and that no one noticed the self-sabotage, not even them. Even the self-inserts are talking about self-inserts now. Insertception.

andre looks as annoyed as i feel by all this

Someone narrates that the dragon does Andre no harm, even though he's still scared. maybe. It says that Andre is maybe not a painting now but something else, but it doesn't work out for him.

When Andre was made a demon, some other part of him was thus the dreamer, Paige writes on the wall. Those two senses of selves had existed together until that moment. The painting went to sleep, she says, and woke up as a tiny bird on a mission. Dreamers have been mentioned before! What does it all mean.

We cut abruptly to Cress and Min on the ocean. Cress thinks to herself that she used to be someone else, but she can't remember who. Cress's species is a Frostdrop, and Median's is a Poisondrop, and from what was said in the last VN, it seems implied that someone can become a drop under... some kind of circumstances. So Cress might have been someone else before she became a drop (or something happened to her that turned her into a drop) but we never find out who, I'm pretty sure. Min flips through her journal on Cress's back. Cress says that writing is important, and that it's important to teach him/her how to write. "She doesn't know how to express regular things at all. I hate this," says someone, presumably Cress.

nice face

We start sort of overlapping with one of the original early scenes in Seeds, where Min and Cress cross a river on Cressboat. Min was being a brat about it which at the time didn't seem like a big deal but now it's a VERY BIG DEAL I guess. Cress rambles angrily about Min and how they never succeed at their mission. It loops a panel where Cress scolded her not to sulk and pout originally in the first story and then crosses out the text so it just says "don't" and "stop it" and "don't be".

remember when this had colors. color.

We cut to Toxinuate, holding Mr. 5's knife and looking a film reel. She says that something's wrong and that this memory frame has a discrepancy (maybe Chisel taking the seeds out of Mr. 5's memories way back when). Call-Clout says that they need to cut that one out since it leads to a ton of dead-ends. Tox warns that it will make the entire arm unstable. She's in front of what appears to be Mr. 5's little coccoon with arms coming out of it.

cabin in the glips

It also looks a bit like Paige's head. Hard to say. Call-Clout says that if Tox cuts that part out, then Min and Cress will make it to the drop-off in time and the story will be over. Short boring and tidy! They ask Tox if that's what she wants, an easy answer and a simple ending. Text appears over what I think is water saying that every new story will one day be the story of the [redacted], then with "dead author" added under it.

Paige shows up in the water, spraying... ink...? Everywhere. It was a [redacted] clover, someone says, stuck on the burning continent of Cenastre, although that's scribbled over. More text says that the fountain spread its sickness everywhere, what a twist! what

The voice, more aggressive now, says that Paige is tainted and was blaming Andre for the door appearing (what door) and that it's safe to say what she doesn't like about him. Why would he want to end the cycle like this, the voice asks her. Paige says (maybe it's her or the narration? I don't know if you can take for granted that Paige is the narrator at this point) that she can see herself scaring Min and making light of abuse and becoming the monster that Glip always writes about. I MEAN PAIGE, NOT GLIP! THE MONSTERS PAIGE ALWAYS WRITES ABOUT!

not me!!!

Paige laments that nothing she writes ever seems to change how Cress and Min's story plays out, describing Min as a fairy/painted bird (I think). Paige learned to hate herself when she realized she didn't exist, and then that day became every day, and get it, she's a fictional character and she's not real, get it, do you get it. I don't know if you get it.

Paige asks Andre why he never listens to her and always insists on going "that" way despite her saying it's dangerous. She says they just need to get this over with, it's their only shot at making it work, and she doesn't know what she'll do if something happens to him. "Why is it always my fault, I forget" Paige presumably says. Following up all your rhetorical questions with "I forget" is extremely irritating. That's what I've learned.

Back to Call-Clout, they say that if they cut out this one memory, they can make it so none of this ever happened. THIS WHOLE COMIC WOULD ALL BE FOR NOTHING, A HUGE WASTE OF TIME! They ask Tox what she think, since she's the one doing the cutting, and asks if they should do it.

Out of nowhere, the trojan horse the Bluffians were using come through a random door that just appeared. They say it's time to reveal their TRUE FORMS!!

crying wolf was late to the set, just ignore her

One of them is Bugsy, who showed up in Angelbox 1. I told you some elements of that would come back! Crying Wolf is really upset that Call-Clout is a sheep. They then open their mouth and what looks like a sheep head comes out, called Hex, the Cursed Witch. She says she'll tell everyone that Call-Clout wants to take away her powers, and that if they cut the memory, then she'll never have found these wings. Crying Wolf's ears kind of look sort of like Min's wings? That's my best guess for what Hex is talking about. She then says that Call-Clout doesn't care about her, weh weh. Call-Clout looks unimpressed and irritated.

Incidentally, there was someone named Bex on the discord server who I believe was a mod and they got into a bunch of convoluted drama with Glip that I can't be bothered to untangle. Just keep in mind Hex is yet another stand-in for someone Glip has beef with.

We then abruptly cut to somewhere else, in the Fairy Division of Dome 5 somewhere in Glissod, one of the continents or cities, I forget. It's night and a surgery is being performed on a pygmy pyzky, what Min's species is called. The pyzky says she's a girl which is unusual and that it remembers something, which is also unusual. She kind of looks like an angel with wings.

or a pikmin

The person operating on the pyzky- you know what, pixie. The person operating on the pixie is Sylvan, if you remember him! He's also talking to Jupet at the same time it seems.

Jupet asks why it's weird that the pixie thinks she's female. Sylvan says that they're in a dome, so it's strange that the idea of breaking a role would occur to any of them. He also says that the fairy circle has been rather standard. We still don't know what a fairy circle is. Well we know that one appears when a fairy dies but aside from that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sylvan says that it's not actually that strange, since this pixie is the first one they conducted the "splice test" on.

Some crazy looking critter with an eye that's also a big headlamp says that their tail venom is ready and says this is the last chance to back out or stop. This dude is one of Neon's siblings, Xenon I think. Sylvan says that of course they shouldn't stop, this is the first step to becoming like Gods. Xenon says that gods aren't real, and Sylvan sounds really dumb when he says things like that. Sylvan replies with "Which one of us will not be laughing when we're at Heaven's doors and have no keys?" omg heaven's keys reference???

Xenon says they don't care and just wanted to make sure that the pixie was tied down. There's also an x in their dialogue and it better not be Extra or I'm going to lose it.

i could look myself if she's tied down but i'm busy being weird looking

Sylvan says to do it and that "she" will be here soon. Xenon is a bit surprised, saying they expected her later. They chat while Xenon pokes the pixie with their tail. "The needle/pin/key entered her body" the narration says, with the line key we've seen so many times before silhouetted against the tail. She says she remembers them talking about the visiting Queen and rumors of a burning continent, and that he/she remembers so much.

Looking more like Paige/Mr. 5, the pixie writhes while saying she knows that she now knows what dying feels like and she feels like she's watching her own actions outside herself, more dissociative imagery. Shows up a lot in this comic. This gets very weird when it looks like Paige is looking down at the distorted pixie, saying that she's not supposed to be here and she's just the writer, and she's not supposed to see herself in her work, so one of us MUST DIE. She says she doesn't like to remember, but she feels like her soul fled and watched from up high.

there can only be one pen head around here

Paige remarks that it's a silly looking creature from outside and that it's a strange disguise. She remembers she's supposed to help someone, but she can't remember who. She chides herself for forgetting, saying that that's the kind of thing a writer is supposed to remember, and that writing is supposed to be about helping, isn't it? Everyone in this comic has so many memory problems, it's like all of them sustained severe blows to the head at some point.

Paige says that this pixie is in her story for a reason, but she doesn't know what it is. She'll figure it out though since the answer's already been provided, she's sure. She says if the little creature is in the story, then it must be...

Sylvan cuts her off, saying that they're going to name this transformation "Mr. 5" until they come up with a better one. It's stable and safe, he says! Paige wonders if this is really her story, since she told them she was a girl. Sylvan and Xenon keep talking in the background, with Xenon saying that the pixie is a girl, calling her Mr. 5 is weird, and Sylvan says that her being a pixie keeps throwing him off. Anyway what matters are the results! Meanwhile Paige or Mr. 5 or the Paige5Pixie, unclear, freaks out about how they can't remember what they were saying/thinking.

Xenon says hi while the pixie screams about how much they hate this, and if it's because they don't have a mouth. Sylvan has an incredibly silly face.

hnyeeehhhh

We cut back to Cress all of a sudden. She says that she can't explain to Min why she likes looking like an eyestalk beast so much. Just like Xenon omg!!! That explains... wait, what does that explain?

Cress runs around scaring Min, as she used to do, while Min yells at her to stop. Some of her text is crossed out, and as you may have suspected, that pixie thing on the table was Min. Or is Min? Min is Paige/Mr. 5? I don't know, man. Min is mad that Cress keeps looking like Xenon, and mentions that Xenon apparently left "us" (Min and Cress? Min and someone else? Are Min and Cress the split halves of a single pixie?) behind and that they had to escape. She says that Cress was really mean to someone (maybe Cress tried to kill someone again, she does have a record for doing that) and to stop reminding her of what happened.

no one in this comic can ever be nice to anyone for any reason

Cress is a bit downfallen and says fine. She thought that looking like a scary thing would make that thing a bit less scary, but she doesn't know how to explain that to Min. She resolves to keep it to herself and forget it, like she always does when something like this happens. She goes out into the water and has a feeling that this won't work out and that it never works out.

Cress thinks about the maps she likes to make (I don't remember her doing this tbh but it's been a while) and how they're like a writing picture. She says that writing's always been with her and that's how she helped them both escape, by reading a map. I'm increasingly thinking that that pixie WAS Min and Cress, and Sylvan and Xenon split them into two pieces. But with this comic, who can say?

Cress says they make a good team, with Min getting lost and Cress making a map of what it took to find her. She then shows one of her maps and it is the exact opposite of a map.

go two lines past the big eye, then turn diagonal

She says they're not useful anyway since Min always gets lost. Each map's a story blah blah they're all boxes with lines in them, all "this is the map of someone who lost their way to feel" and that kind of thing. Whatever. Cress says that Min is trying to find a specific story, although she's not sure how she knows that.

Cress says she remembers that this moment is very important and can go one of two ways. She remembers a knife and a scythe, although she's not sure why this is coming to her right now. She knows something happens to Min (that something is Amdusias chopping her up like a pork roast) and that it feels very real.

We cut back to Toxinuate and the film reel. She starts to make the cut, saying the memories have only been hurting Mr. 5 [crossed out] and that it'd be better if they were gone. I can't tell what memories she's actually cutting because they're just scribbles.

art is so powerful

Tox then stops, thinking that this might be a good chance to try something different while Call-Clout is distracted with Crying Wolf. She wonders what makes this the best memory, saying that Call-Clout couldn't even predict the encounter correctly. Tox decides to move the knife to another memory. She then cuts her own head off, aiming to have it land on a specific memory. One of the teeth lands on the memory she chose.

We go back to Cress and someone is calling her. She's scared to look up, because she's scared it'll be the thing from her nightmares, the ones she can NEVER FORGET, EVEN WHEN SHE'S AWAKE. :O She doesn't remember ever having a partner, so she's not sure why one is calling out to her now.

Min, now in weird colors, tells Cress they need to make the drop-off and it'll be fun let's go. She jokes about being afraid of water, then says that she's fine around water and nothing will go wrong, she won't drown, don't worry, let's go to the dropoff. Cress is freaked out, wondering why Min is acting like she knows who Cress is and why she's talking so weirdly. She asks how Min knows her name, and Min quickly makes up a lie about how she can't control her psychic powers.

Cress says that's not real, and Min agrees and then says she doesn't know why she said that, and she's not sure why she said any of it. Toxinuate's head as now on the back of her head, sort of like it's supposed to be a part of it.

your head looks happy to see me

Min looks troubled, rambling a bit about how she doesn't know why she said that, although she might have an idea but it's too obvious. She promises she's not like this all the time and that Cress must think she's really annoying, she must HATE Min, because it's been five minutes since someone threw themselves a pity party.

Cress continues pressing Min on how she knows her name, since she also knew about the drop off so they can't be strangers. Min says that maybe it's her body that knows Cress, not her herself. Cress is dubious, saying that she doesn't know any Celebi pixies and that she always travels alone. Cress flips out, yelling a bunch of insults at Min about how wrong and weird this whole thing is. She then walks away but Min follows her while she continues freaking out to herself about what's going on. Cress then asks herself why she was going to the drop off, and she can't remember.

Min begs Cress not to be mad at her, saying it was some OTHER ME and that she'll be more MINdful. I assume this is Tox in Min's body but I'm not sure, maybe it's a ToxMin amalgam.

cress has had it with this

Min begs Cress not to ruin this chance she has to finally make a friend and that she doesn't understand how this started going so badly since she didn't do anything bad. Cress thinks that this is her worst nightmare and she doesn't know how to back out of this. Cress says "I don't want to go with you" and then Call-Clout appears in frame and scribbles out the "dont". sigh.

the emperor's new glip

Cress is confused and horrified, wondering why she said that, and she doesn't know how to take it back. We cut back to Call-Clout and Hex and the others, with Hex saying that she saw the edit Call-Clout made and that they're making other sheep look bad. Is this how you treat everyone, she asks.

Call-Clout says that they both would have been killed by the dragons if they hadn't edited it, and it would have just led to a bunch of Nothing endings. The horse guy, who we haven't heard from much yet, says that they get it and that Min and Cress die either way. They've put it all together, they say! Call-Clout gets mad and says that they did the exact opposite and prevented them from dying. Horse guy asks how long Call-Clout was planning on killing them which only makes them more angry. I'm kind of enjoying Call-Clout getting trolled.

Horse guy says they don't mind that Call-Clout thinks it's a good idea to kill them while Call-Clout looks even madder. It turns out the horse guy's name is Good Knight, the impromptu warden. Fine. He says he can help pressure her thinking and Crying Wolf is like oh great, I've amassed a ton of ammunition just for this, and Call-Clout is angry that they're being attacked like this, in their own home! Hmmm I wonder what this could be about.

Crying Wolf says that Call-Clout taking away Cress's agency makes them sick, and what does that say about how Call-Clout is treating THEIR agency, and it sickens them how they're making them treat CC like a villain!!! It'd be so easy if CC just stopped acting like one! Also I'm just switching to CC now, that's way faster and also less embarrassing.

CC tells Crying wolf to gtfo in an attempt to look scary and intimidating lol.

what did you just say to me

There's some dumb pun-based nonsense with Good Knight invoking the "Rushin' Rules-Set" that goes nowhere. Crying Wolf asks if CC wants to fight, and CC asks why they want to fight with that mask on. Crying Wolf insists its not a mask but their real face, saying they're a lone wolf who travels with their companions to figure out who their enemies are. CC declares a rule that if they're a villain, so's Crying Wolf. Still not entirely sure what it is with people just stating rules that change reality like this. It's like weird Calvinball. They also state a new rule that if CC can't take off their mask, then neither can Crying Wolf.

Hex tries to take off the wolf mask but can't, since now it's their true face since that's what CC said. Hex panics and then reveals her snake tongue of lies and trickery and I shake my head and sigh.

the people accusing me are the real villains

Hex hisses and asks why CC cursed them. CC says that she never needed Min's wings but then it's crossed out, saying that her wings were stolen from another angel. Hex then says that's not true and she only steals from the dead which doesn't count. CC's all oh that's why you accuse people of being monsters, so you can enjoy the feeling of power, which doesn't really seem connected to what Hex just said but whatever, Glip has a soapbox to use.

This is actually about Bex saying their therapist told them to leave the Floraverse community because it was abusive and Glip claiming that Bex was a liar who blamed them for all their problems. Spiteful VNs are Glip's solution to everything apparently.

Hex gets all pouty and says that CC doesn't have to be mean about it, they were just trying to protect everyone which is what you do when you're on the side of justice, why are you so MEAN. MEANIE. YOU'D NEVER UNDERSTAND. Hex runs through the door with her tail between her legs. The other two, Bugsy and Goodnight, also decide to go I guess, although CC says that they reroute the door for Hex to lead her elsewhere, saying that they want to have fun with her. This never comes back later as far as I recall.

Bugsy politely asks CC to act more like a villain next time because it's hard to tell that they're bad if they aren't actively hurting Bugsy themselves. Please be more considerate in hurting them in a more direct fashion so they can more easily engage! Thanks! TAKE THAT, TWITTER HATERS

this is pretty subtle, i don't know if you get it. you have to think about it pretty hard.

Bugsy showed up in Angelbox 1 as I mentioned. What Bugsy did there was get mad at Tox for not letting them in her clique, then attack her verbally, then try to attack her physically only hitting themselves, then accuse Tox of hitting them. You could probably guess it was something like that though from how this comic usually goes.

CC just stares at Bugsy. Then abruptly Bugsy declares a new rule: If you hurt me, I'll hurt myself, then I'll hurt someone else the same way you hurt me. CC screams that that's not how you're supposed to use rules. They tell Bugsy they don't want to deal with this and to begone.

Bugsy looks sad and says oh, I get it, you don't want me here in a :( tone and CC shrieks NO, and I'm enjoying how furious this entire thing is making them.

die mad about it

CC screams hysterically about a new rule, saying "If I don't mean to hurt you, I must not be a villain" but someone edits it to "If i don't hurt you, then I must be a villain". CC asks why this is Bugsy's rule, and then someone, not sure who, says that you must be the angel of unspoken edits.

CC, increasingly incensed, says that you can't edit rules after you make them and that's a terrible thing to do. Follow the same rules you make everyone else follow, that's only fair! Bugsy says they don't know why they should even follow CC's rules in the first place if they can't tell if CC is good or not, which is a fair point actually. Why does ANYone follow these rules?? Maybe it's an angel thing. Bugsy tells CC to keep their nose out of their business and asks if they're cool now. CC just gets even angrier lol. Glip then refers to CC as an anti-hero which lololol

a pure :V mouth

Anyway, Bugsy's rule can be used in a lot of different ways, most of them to make CC shut up. Thanks, Bugsy, I appreciate it. Bugsy leaves, having done God's work, and CC still doesn't realize the full effect of Bugsy's rule. CC says that the hardest to understand rules are the most powerful.

Bugsy's rule kicks in again, taking the form of "If you hurt Tox, I'll hurt you, then I'll hurt you in the same way you hurt Tox" which actually doesn't seem to fit the initial formula at all but whatever, who cares. CC protests that they didn't hurt Tox. Someone, not sure who, says that CC could have warned Tox that it was a dangerous job and they could have got hurt. CC responds saying that Tox hurt themselves. The other person says that they can't believe that CC didn't warn Tox, that they should have told them that reading the memories would hurt, and it's CC's fault that Tox cut themselves. CC just says "okay".

CC collapses on the floor, unable to escape the rule and whoever it is that's haranguing them, saying that they must enjoy suffering by trying to prolong the story this way. Like people accusing Glip of enjoying suffering by writing stories where people suffer. get it. do you get it.

rip in pieces CC lies on the floor next to Mr. 5, and the voice says that this is the same thing as editing Cress to say yes. CC asks why they're being punished for that, saying that "she" did the same thing to others constantly. If it's the same thing, does that mean she was hurt for trying to help someone too? What a mystery, CC says. I have no idea who they're talking about so I guess they're right. Paige?

We cut back to a snip from Writer's Block, where CC told Paige "It would be soooo much easier without you showing things that shouldn't be shown. You cause nothing but anguish. I hate hate hate you." and it's edited to "It would be soooo much easier without you showing things that should be shown. You cause nothing but anguish. I understand you." and adds "Because I also do that, and I wish you understood me too." in red text.

It has Paige's line "I WILL SHOW everything" and the red text says "please hurry". The VN ends with that a flippant endnote of "haha more like call-clown, are we cool now" from Glip.

The next VN is a REAL doozy, you have no idea. Prepare yourself.

#floraverse

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wistful-shenanigans · 2 years ago

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A Happening at the Rusty Anchor

That night was like any other Friday night in downtown Manhattan. I was out with my close companions, James, Robert, Michael, and Alistair, at our cherished establishment, The Rusty Anchor. As we sat around the table, savoring our libations and relishing each other's repartee, a man of lanky stature and unkempt appearance approached us with an air of urgency.

"Please lend me your aid," he implored. "My sister is in peril, and I am at a loss as to what course of action to pursue."

Moved by compassion, James inquired as to the nature of the man's distress. The man explained that his sister had been due to rendezvous with him at the bar, but had failed to appear. Despite repeated attempts to contact her by phone, she had not answered. The man was gripped with a sense of foreboding that some grave misfortune had befallen his sibling.

Without hesitation, James suggested that we undertake a concerted effort to locate the missing woman. As one, we exited The Rusty Anchor and commenced our quest. Though we traversed the thoroughfares for what felt like an eternity, our search proved fruitless.

Just as our hopes began to flag, we were alerted to a blood-curdling shriek emanating from an adjacent alleyway. In an instant, we sprang to action and raced to the source of the commotion. There, we espied the man's sister in the throes of a violent assault by a group of ruffians. Displaying remarkable mettle, we intervened and managed to subdue the assailants before summoning the authorities.

The man's sister, although badly shaken, had fortunately escaped with only minor injuries. The officers who arrived on the scene were effusive in their praise, commending us for our valor and fortitude.

As we made our way back to The Rusty Anchor, we remained in a state of disbelief at the events that had transpired. In the course of an ordinary night out with friends, we had undergone a transformation into bona fide heroes. We were elated to have made a meaningful difference in someone's life and to have stood together in the face of adversity.

For the remainder of the night, we reveled in mirth and conviviality. We raised a toast to our camaraderie and the bond that had strengthened in the crucible of crisis. We were mindful that life is fraught with uncertainty, but our unyielding devotion to one another had proved a source of indomitable strength.

Over the next few days, we all kept in touch with each other, checking in to make sure we were all okay after the ordeal. We also made plans to meet up again soon, as we realized how much we enjoyed each other's company and how important our friendship was to us.

A week later, we received a call from the police department. They told us that the attackers had been charged with assault and were now facing serious consequences for their actions. The man's sister, who had been a victim of their violence, was now doing much better and had even sent us a thank you card in the mail.

We were all overjoyed to hear this news and felt proud of what we had accomplished together. It was a reminder that even the smallest acts of kindness and courage can have a big impact on someone else's life.

From that day on, we made a pact to always be there for each other and to stand up for what was right, no matter the cost. It was a powerful bond that had been forged in the crucible of adversity and it continued to grow stronger with each passing day, enriching our lives in ways we never could have imagined.

To be continued...

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miss-scarletletter · 2 years ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MON CHER 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

With amber eyes that shine like the sunrise, and hair spun in gold, I am inclined to believe that you were borne from Aurora’s arms as she sets you in this world where you live amongst both immortal and men. You walk through the fabrics of time the same way you walk through different thresholds of manors, palaces, temples, and emporiums, bringing with you--centuries of history and knowledge. It is no wonder why the crowd goes into this hysteria when they sense your presence; is it your muted three-piece suite that seems to mimic the colors of an antique gold? Is it the smell of saffron and ambergris on your nape? Is it the small pocket watch that’s hanging on your waistcoat, which hugged your built physique? Or is it the golden fragments in your eyes and hair that draws men and women alike, buzzing in your direction and eclipsing you from the rest of the spectators? Perhaps… or perhaps, it is the way you talk like a soft-spoken sage with a hint of mischief like a fox. Or perhaps… it is the fact that while you are familiar with the social circle, and yet you remain a stranger to those who have encountered you.

It is that marvelous dichotomy--the enigma that you possess in your character that made you so unreachable, and yet, that could drive anyone to know who you are. Who are you? I remember the first time I met you, you were a stranger even after you introduced yourself with a title. And because of that, with suspicions and curiosity, I decided to get every information about you and follow my sights on wherever you tread. But who would have thought that the initial question of “Who are you?” would be answered in the end; it still, to this day, amazes me that it comes to this wonderful conclusion--

From the way you call me “Ma Cherie” to the sound of your Oxford shoes, you did become one of the most familiar figures in my life. You are a rather charming gentleman, but you said yourself that you are “neither gentle nor a man”--which sounds humorous until you keep showing the many facets of yourself in any given situation from fighting ruffians to showing your erudite capacities. You are mature and very practical, and yet--the more I know you, the more I realize that you have a Romantic child in you that is crying for help.

How many in your audience know that? That you have your share of suffering like the rest of the common folk? What anyone can’t see beyond the gilded structures of your person is the fact that you carry the weight of your hell--but it seems that they forget that even the most precious gold is vulnerable to the strikes of a hammer. You lived for so long, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you witnessed so many misfortunes, and with many that have died--you must feel so lonely in those moments to the point that it drains the pleasure in life from your immortal coil. This pathological grieving--this melancholia is uncurable; I feel pity for you, and oh do I want to just comfort you.

Admittedly, your stubbornness has frustrated me many times, and yet I still find myself not wanting to leave you to your own devices. Indeed you are a cunning man, secretive, and possessive. But also an indecisive mess-- “a ball of contradictions” in your terms. But these are the flaws I have long accepted. These do not compare to your sense of humor, your altruism, and your unconditional acceptance even of those who wronged you.

You tend to underestimate yourself and reprimand yourself for showing a crack on that gentleman-like mask of yours, when, in all honesty--you are the most beautiful, the best, and greatest of created beings! You said your name has no meaning, but there is more beyond that! For you gave those boys a haven in their second life, which you also provide. They are lucky to have you--the tenderest of fathers. You have been so respectful, attentive, and considerate; despite those tribulations, you are incredibly strong and steadfast in what you believe is right. And if they can live their life again, so can you--be happy and live again, Comte. Celebrate, dance, travel, make a toast, play with your violin--seize every moment of this impermanent world and reclaim the pleasures of life!

As I listen to the sound of the bow gliding across the strings with your eyes that hold so much warmth, I reminded myself that there are more reasons to love you than to fear or hate you. I love you and I do not regret it, In the end, you will always be my Comte--my Abel…

#ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire comte #comte de saint germain #ikevamp le comte #happy birthday Comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp #My art #spotify

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cursedmystic · 1 year ago

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Clair describes diseased Dratini and the heartbreaking scene it makes in his mind makes Matsuba reach out to sink his fingers into the smoke-gray fur of Zorua between them. The pale blue smoke rises more insistently at the mention of misfortune, setting a hazy tone to their conversation.

"I'm not surprised it first affected you in Saffron City. It's still recovering from the effects of the blight. I think it will be for years to come."

His mind lingers on Neo-Rocket, on Sabrina's insistence that they had released Black Fog to kill the people of Saffron City, and finds it difficult to connect them to the ruffians who had harassed the Kimono Girls back when they were very active in Johto.

It makes sense that they would target more profitable places than Ecruteak City, but going after the entirety of Saffron City. . .

"I do think it's all connected. Neo-Rocket had its hand in Saffron recently, but Sabrina chased the rest of them out. We don't know where they are right now, even if they're certainly somewhere in Johto."

He tucks his face into his scarf, feeling the exhaustion acutely at the back of his mind.

"I've not been sleeping well for a long time now. The dreams come and go, but they've been consistent since October. A lot of it is not recognizing myself in a mirror or taunting my failed goals, but recently I had a dream when I was still. . .awake. I'm pretty sure I was awake. There was a figure in my room waiting for me to close my eyes. Considering my proximity to the Fog when we went to confront the problem, I think something might be more deeply wrong than I first thought.

It just wants to eat. It doesn't care what it has to do to do that -- but it just wants to consume things. Neo-Rocket wanted to use it for abject destruction, so they have some sort of. . .plan that affords them that sort of destruction."

@cursedmystic (continued from here)

Clair focuses on the playful Zorua stretching by her feet as Matsuba offers a predictably measured response, some of the tension draining from her shoulders upon hearing the fellow Gym Leader's thoughts.

As playful as he and his Pokemon could be sometimes, Matsuba had proven to be quite the dependable confidant whenever the need arose. (And in this moment, Clair is grateful for his listening ear. There's a feeling of relief as well, in knowing that she seemingly made the right decision to wander into her colleague's spectral realm.)

Still, it's surprising to hear that Matsuba has also been suffering from nightmarish afflictions. (If he can't control them, what hope does she have?) Clair turns to give him a quick once-over, face contorting slightly with concern as she takes in his tired gaze and sallow complexion. Subtlety has never been her strong suit.

Letting loose a hearty yawn that morphs into a sigh, Blackthorn's pride leans back against the flowers, azure hues squinting towards the cloudless sky.

"...I woke up in a Saffron hotel," she recollects after a hesitant pause. "The...the ceiling tore open, and all of these diseased Dratini started to fall on me. All of them infested with parasites." Clair gulps, blinking heavily as she recalls the terror of the moment. "I couldn't move. They kept raining down...they were burying me, and then--when I thought I would suffocate and die--I...I woke back up. Still exhausted. Like I hadn't slept at all."

Clair can't look at Matsuba anymore, her face flushed with equal parts shame and embarrassment. She usually isn't one to divulge her dreams like this, and her stubborn dragon's pride is roaring in protest.

But she needs to share this out. The vivid nightmare has been haunting her ever since, sitting like a crushing weight on her chest. Tired eyes take in the sky once more.

"I have been researching mutated Dratini recently. There's a lot of them near Goldenrod, where they're being regularly poached by Neo Rocket agents for sale at the Game Corner," she mutters, fists clenching at her sides. "I'm going to stop them. That's why I went to Saffron, to learn more about their original downfall...and Saffron is where I had the first nightmare."

"All of these things--the nightmares, the Saffron location, Neo Rocket involvement--seem to be connected. Somehow," Clair reasons, finally turning to peer back at Matsuba, gauging his reaction with her usual air of intensity. "Hm. What happened last October...do you think it's related to what's happening now?"

#draconscious #thread: ghosts + dragons.#cheering about this #if you want to know more about what happened ask matsuba he was there

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hadeschan · 2 years ago

Photo

WE’RE SORRY, THIS ITEM HAS SOLD OUT

item # K19C50

RARE Pra Khun Paen Um Gai, Nua Lek Lai Jet Si, Luang Phu Suang. A Pra Khun Paen holding a fighting rooster amulet patched with a piece of monk robe of Luang Phu Suang in the back, stamped with Thai text says “Luang Phu Suang, Ban La Lom, Si Sa Ket “, and written cabalistic writings with gold color marking pen. It was casted from Rainbow Titanium Hematite or Lek Lai Jet Si, in Thai which means 7 colors mystical iron ore. Luang Phu Suang and Luang Phu Soi travel to a cave at Phu Tabaeng or Phnom Tbeng in Preah Vihear, Cambodia to perform rituals to harvest Lek Lai Jet Si (Rainbow Titanium Hematite) themselves, and brought it back to Bangkok to make this amulet. Made by Luang Phu Suang of Wat Phrai Phatthana for Luang Phu Soi of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung, Bangkok in BE 2519 (CE 1976). With Grand Consecration / Blessing Ceremony at the temple of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung, and the 18th Supreme Patriarch of Thailand, Somdet Phra Sangharaja (Vasana Vāsano) was Master of the Ceremony, attended by Luang Phu Suang of Wat Phrai Phatthana, Pra Archan Fund Archaro of Wat Pa Udom Somphon, Luang Phu Toh of Wat Pradu Chimphli, Luang Phor Pare of Wat Pikul Thong, and other guru monks. And after the BE 2519 Consecration / Blessing Ceremony, this Batch of Pra Khun Paen amulets was kept inside the temple of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung for another continuously 20 years Consecration / Blessing Ceremonies, and it was available for purchase in BE 2539 (CE 1996).

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*This Pra Khun Paen Um Gai Nua Lek Lai Jet Si, Luang Phu Suang is said to be a forbidden amulet for customers to wear at the Gambling Houses and Casinos on "no-man's land" between the Thai and Cambodian borders.

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BEST FOR: Pra Khun Paen Um Gai, Nua Lek Lai Jet Si, Luang Phu Suang is a lucky charm that has history of success, the best for gamblers, and a lucky charm whilst gambling to win money from the houses, and it guards wealth by reducing money loss and making the business more stable. Pra Khun Paen is one of Thailand’s Best amulets for Nak-layng, ruffian (a violent person, especially one involved in crime), Mafia Boss, Crime Prevention Police Officer, Park Ranger, Field Soldier and Nak-layng Poo Ying (a connoisseur of women / a womanizer). Pra Khun Paen dispels bad vibes, and it has a tendency to draw positive energy. Nang Nieow, a rock-hard skin that is completely impervious to damage with bludgeoning or piercing weapons. Kongkraphan (it makes you invulnerable to all weapon attack), Klawklad Plodpai (it pushes you away from all danger), Maha-ut (it helps stop gun from shooting at you). Wealth Fetching, Maha Larp (it brings lucky wealth), Mahasanay (Magic Charm) it helps turn you to prince charming in the eyes of girls. Metta Maha Niyom (it makes people around you love you, be nice to you, and willing to support you for anything), Kaa Kaai Dee (it helps tempt your customers to buy whatever you are selling, and it helps attract new customers and then keep them coming back, and warning of danger. Ponggan Poot-pee pee-saat Kunsai Mondam Sa-niat jan-rai Sat Meepit (it helps ward off evil spirit, demon, bad ghost, bad omen, bad spell, curse, accursedness, black magic, misfortune, doom, and poisonous animals). And this amulet helps protect you from manipulators, backstabbers, and toxic people.

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Pra Khun Paen

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Rainbow Titanium Hematite (Lek Lai Jet Si or 7 colors mystical iron ore)

Hematite is a common iron oxide compound with the formula, Fe2O3 and is widely found in rocks and soils. Hematite naturally occurs in black to steel or silver-gray, brown to reddish-brown, or red colors. It is mined as an important ore mineral of iron. It is electrically conductive. Hematite is not only harder than pure iron, but also much more brittle.

The Rainbow Titanium Hematite has the potential to help you connect with higher powers, unlocking your ability to ascend into the cosmos spiritually while getting rid of any limitations you feel you might have. It transcends your physical being, allowing you to find enlightenment without getting lost in the fray. The Rainbow Titanium Hematite keeps you firm in your place, giving you the strength to stand up to any negativity that swirls around you. The meaning and properties of this stone promote equilibrium, encouraging self-confidence and giving you the freedom to explore on a deeper level.

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The monk robe of Buddhist monk

The monk robe of Buddhist monk is considered as relics. “Relics come from masters who have devoted their entire lifetime to spiritual practices that are dedicated to the welfare of all. Every part of their body and relics carries positive energy to inspire goodness.”

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Luang Phu Suang

Luang Phu Suang was a monk from Cambodia that is very respectful among Thais and Cambodians along the boarder. Luang Phu Suang was called “tay-wá-daa dern din” in Thai which means “a Deva Walking on Earth” by his Looksit (disciples / followers /adherents/ worshippers / devotees). Luang Phu Suang passed away on September 8, BE 2543 (CE 2000), and his body remains unrotten, and on display in a glass casket in the Mondop Prasat Luang Phu Suang Pavilion at Wat Phrai Phatthana, Si Sa Ket Province for people to pay respect. Luang Phu Suang is called “Luang Ta Bok or Luang Eaw Bok” by Cambodians.

No one knows when Luang Phu Suang was born, and how old he actually was. Many people said they saw Luang Phu Suang that old since they were young, some at the age of 7, but they are now over 80. For instance, Luang Phu Soi, an abbot of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung, Bangkok. Luang Phu Soi was originally from Cambodia, and passed away in BE 2542 / CE 1999 (76 years old). Luang Phu Soi said that he saw Luang Phu Suang in Cambodia and Thailand since Luang Phu Soi was a novice, and Luang Phu Suang was very old and never change. Luang Phu Soi invited Luang Phu Suang to join the consecration/blessing ceremonies of the amulets at Wat Liab Rat Bamrung so many times. And Luang Phu Hong, an abbot of Wat Phet Buri, Surin Province, passed away in BE 2557 / CE 2014 (97 years old), and Luang Phu Boh, an abbot of Wat Ban Bing, Si Sa Ket Province, passed away in BE 2555 / CE 2012 (90 years old) also said they saw Luang Phu Suang that old since they were young monks.

Luang Phu Suang was a loner, and did not like staying at the temple. Luang Phu Suang did not require anything luxury or comfort his life was simple, just a alms bowl, and an old monk robe. Luang Phu Suang loved staying in the area of villagers in an isolated small hut alone. Where Luang Phu Suang was staying Luang Phu Suang would make a mark, a kite made of his monk robe or white paper, and tied up a kite on a top of a bamboo pole for his Looksit (disciples / followers /adherents/ worshippers / devotees) to visit him if they needed help. And a “must have” was a bon fire that would never be extinguished 24/7. Luang Phu Suang would practice “Grasin Fire”, the meditation that relies on a bon fire to meditate. Sometimes his looksit offered him stuffs for his living, Luang Phu Suang would toss those stuffs in the bon fire.

Luang Phu Suang was a very kind monk with compassion, and never be angry to anyone, Luang Phu Suang kept smiling at all time. The biography and the origin of Luang Phu Suang is still a mystery til these days.

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*with Certificate of Authenticity issued by Thaprachan Buddha Amulet Magazine (prathaprachan-mag.com).

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DIMENSION: 4.00 cm high / 2.60 cm wide / 0.80 cm thick

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item # K19C50

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the-pinstriped-hood · 2 years ago

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So I have wanted to do this fic for a while. It's gonna get interesting...Ellie and Ava are about to learn a very important lesson......on why you should-

NEVER PLAY GAMES WITH GODS

@rottent33th is Ellie's creator.

@slaasherslut is Ava's creator.

Percy and Macavity belong to me

All other characters are House of Wax Cannon.

As Ellie and Ava were finally settled into normalcy in Ambrose or what passes for normalcy in Ambrose there was a list of constants:

The trio of brothers here murdered Tourists for their wax museum

Everyone living in town was in on it, participating or not.

Out of all three Sinclair brothers, Bo was easily the worst.

Beauregard Sawyer Sinclair, what could be said about the Eldest who was *supposed* to be head of the family and instead ran it like they were the Mafia.

The man had confidence to spend and had that winning smile that could draw you in like net. Combine that with his infectious southern drawl that hit your ears like verbal honey, Blue eyes that seemed to go on forever and it was a dangerous combination indeed. He could always get you to like him and if you were a tourist and trusted the mechanic, you were verbally signing your death certificate.

He had been given the nickname,

The Devil of Ambrose for a reason.

Who had given him this nickname, you ask?

Percy.

The Award winning Novelist had been hit by Bo's truck on accident a few years back. Had it not been for her book bag full of manuscripts, she would have become a wax figure herself.

The Eldest Sinclair began his devious ensnarement of her mind and heart the moment they met the following day of the accident. There was no malice in his eyes as he got to know her, learn she had used him as a template for a main character.

He began to fall in love.

Persephone Jones was a confident girl, beautiful and smart. She had figured out that nothing about Bo's story made any sense when he claimed to "help tourists" only to find her new best friend standing over a fresh bloodied corpse, Wrench in hand, dripping with blood. Only for her to ask questions for her book instead of running away.

The pair drew deeper into each other's arms when Bo learned of Percy's past misfortune with Eddie Camp, a deranged ex lover who mercilessly branded his love with his initial 'E' on the inside of her left thigh. Bo sought revenge when the ruffian came calling to murder the Novelist, only for Bo to do away with him only a man with a mind so depraved could.

So it pained everyone when Percy after having been corrupted by Bo, could not for the life of her keep her hands off of her man in front of their friends.

Ellie and Ava were going to try and put a stop to that by confronting their friend about her addiction.

End of Part 1.

Tag list: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut @cries-in-latino

#bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slashers #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #Percy Jones OC #House of Wax Oc #oc Ava

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years ago

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The Fourth Book

Written for @do-it-with-style-events "Who Needs A Great Plan" event, Day 1, for the prompt "Four."

The man pulled a copy of The Tale of Two Cities off the shelf.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said, eyes locked on the young human.

“Nhhhh. You promised you’d start letting customers buy books.” He tipped his glasses down, watching the man page through the book. “It’s only a Dickens, anyway.”

“That is a limited run edition!” the angel hissed. He sat in his chair, fingers clenched on the arms, ready to stand.

“From the book’s hundredth anniversary. Don’t you have first editions? Autographed first editions?”

“Well. Yes. That isn’t the point.” The lone figure crossed the shop, pausing to study a shelf. “Poetry, he’s looking at my poetry.”

“Angel, we moved all your poetry, remember? Best copy of each book, safely in my flat. You read Walt Whitman to my plants last night.”

“I. Suppose.” His teeth ground tighter as the customer ran his finger across the bindings, pressure and oils from his fingers slowly deteriorating them.

“Come over here,” Crowley said, shifting on the sofa to make more space.

Aziraphale allowed himself to pull his eyes away from the customer for a half-second. “No. If I sit there, I can’t watch him. Wait. There he goes.” The angel shifted forward, ready to pounce. “I can’t see from here. Is that Coleridge?”

Tossing his arm over the back of the sofa, Crowley casually turned to watch. “Percy Shelley. I didn’t even think you liked him all that much.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“A. Zir. A. Phale.” Crowley pointed to the seat next to him. “Stop fussing.”

Reluctantly, he pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room, dropping to sit beside his demon. But the customer was still on the prowl. “Look. Look. He’s heading towards ancient philosophy.”

“Those are some eclectic tastes.” His long arm slid off the sofa and around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “I’d say he must be a student, but there’s got to be a cheaper way to get books for classes, right?”

“What do you mean? These are extremely reasonably priced.”

Stretching his foot towards the table, Crowley used his toe to nudge open the cover of a book. “This one says four hundred pounds.”

“That is perfectly acceptable for a rare book!”

“S’not that rare.” He flipped back the cover of the next. “Seven hundred fifty?”

“Crowley, the used and antique book market is extraordinarily complicated, and there are many factors that could—”

One more cover, gently lifted. “Does this one say your first born?”

“Yes, and unfortunately last week a woman offered hers. So even that price is no deterrent.”

The distraction had been successful for the moment, but already he had turned back, searching for the customer. He’d vanished. Almost certainly for some nefarious purpose, perhaps burrowing into the floor of the shop as part of some planned bank heist, a thing which had happened in one of Crowley’s films, and at the time Aziraphale had thought it completely ridiculous, but it was seeming more plausible by the moment, despite the lack of any banks in this neighborhood. After all, it would take someone truly devious, truly devoid of conscience to—

Oh, no, there he was.

“Is that The Republic? Plato’s Republic?”

“Mmmmmyeah. Told you. Weird tastes this one.” Crowley leaned closer, nose brushing Aziraphale’s cheek, all but falling into his lap. “Look, it’ll be fine. Why don’t we just—”

The customer turned slightly in the direction of the cash drawer and Aziraphale leapt to his feet.

“Yes, hello, are you finding everything alright, I can take you over here, here please, yes, that’s good.”

The young man glanced once more between Aziraphale and the shelf, fingers hesitantly reaching towards a novel, but then he trotted over with a smile. “You really have a great selection here.”

“I certainly do.” His fingers itched to reach for the three books but no, no, he would part with them, he’d said he would.

“My father’s a book collector,” he explained, still not putting the books onto the table, “and he would die of envy if he saw these.”

“Well.” Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, smiling a little. “Yes, it took me quite a long while to gather them all, you know.”

“These prices…” the man started, opening the cover of one.

“Yes, well, you know how it is, the used book market—”

“…are actually very reasonable. I’ve been looking for this one for him for years!” He held up The Republic. “You’ve really saved the next couple Christmases.”

“Ah. Yes.” Aziraphale straightened his bowtie. “I…am happy to help.”

The man set the books down and reached for his wallet.

Right. Good. Yes. Three books. He could stand to part with them. Just…just write down the prices and take the nice young fellow’s money, just as he’d planned. Human money would be good. Useful. He could use it to buy Crowley something nice.

“Oh, what’s this?” The young man reached for Azirphale’s copy of When We Were Very Young. “I thin—”

“You, sir, have gone too far!” the angel bellowed, form rippling with power, wings nearly bursting into reality. “Depart from this shop, leave my sight, and never darken my door again!” The man stumbled away, turned and ran onto the street, with Aziraphale following implacably behind. “Pray I never have the misfortune to see your face again!”

Slamming the door shut, Aziraphale locked it, and flipped the sign to Closed.

Somewhere behind him, Crowley was cackling.

“Ohhhhh, quiet yourself,” he snapped, carefully picking up the four books and inspecting them for damage. “That ruffian! I shall have to ensure such people never find their way to this shop again.”

“What kind of people? Friendly young men who understand the value of books?”

“Precisely!” He put all three onto his desk where they could recover safely from the trauma of their near-abduction. “There’s no worse type of customer.”

“Mmmmm-hmmmm?”

Aziraphale sighed, turning back to Crowley. “Alright, yes. I saw him going for a fourth and I panicked. You would, too, if it were your…your…” There wasn’t much Crowley was defensive of. “…Your car, I suppose.”

“Of course.” His demon wrapped him in a sympathetic hug, kissing the side of his head. “Maybe I’ll make a sign. Three book limit.”

#good omens fanfiction #good omens #aziraphale #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale's books #bamf aziraphale #don't mess with the books #crowley #crowley loves aziraphale #my writing #do-it-with-style events #diws #who needs a great plan?

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jade-qilin · 3 years ago

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d is for my darling | obey me! (diavolo x f!oc)

notes: hello friends. <3 i come with a new story. this was self-indulgent Diavolo one-shot i quickly wrote while studying for an exam a few days ago. i haven’t proofread it yet but enjoy! you can also find this story on wattpad @ARGO-NAVIS ! you CAN change Zasha’s name to your own or to “y/n”.

content warnings: features f!oc. can also be read as f!reader. features my secondary mc named Zasha Akatsuki, a Russian-Japanese young adult originally from Hokkaido. her profile can be seen under my book PARADISO on wattpad.

Zasha has been renamed as Vera/“Vee”. this story will be updated soon to change her name.

Zasha should have known that she would be in the center of attention when she began dating one of the Devildom's second most powerful and influential figure, but this wasn't the way she was imagining it.

Apart from the critical eyes of demons and angels alike who disapproved their relationship solely because she was human, many were quite shocked to see that Diavolo had decided to court someone overall.

"Did you see? Lord Diavolo finally has a partner!"

"But she's a human. Will she ever be able to live up to Lord Diavolo's expectations?"

"I heard that she was a ruffian law-breaker on Earth. A shame the prince couldn't have found someone more suitable for himself."

These were the kinds of comments that drifted around throughout the realm upon Diavolo's public announcement that he "belonged" to Zasha. In the marketplace, at the school, in the dark corners of the clubs, she couldn't escape. Even at the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall, Zasha constantly found herself being surrounded by comments on her relationship; though in these cases, they were more out of excitement than criticism.

As usual, Zasha found herself by herself on a bench in the school's gardens. Classes were in session, and as Zasha was not a student, she could often be seen wandering around the realm or taking naps in various places. Today, however, she was wide awake, and deep in thought.

She thought about the Devildom, about Diavolo and their relationship, about the fact that angels and demons do exist. She thought about the demon brothers, the exchange program, and the strange human girl who who captured everyone's hearts.

Zasha thought about her crew and the kids who depended on her. Was it really okay for her to just leave? Though her makeshift family assured her that they would survive without her, and that she always had a place if she were to return, Zasha couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for choosing a route she thought was selfish.

"Don't worry, big sis! We'll be fine! You've always been here for us and you've given us so much. We want you to be happy now."

These were the words spoken to Zasha by her friends and family back at home. She had introduced Diavolo to her found family; it was quite a sight trying to explain and prove that demons and other otherworldly creatures existed. After the initial shock had passed, everyone was so supportive of their relationship.

But the approval of her loved ones did not erase the dread and anxiety in Zasha's heart. She did not know what the future held, and it scared her. Zasha was used to having everything in control, and she was not used to being this... happy?

No, happiness was not it. Though she struggled and suffered in life, Zasha could not say that it was constant misfortune. Her group gave her happiness, they gave her purpose. So what was this feather-like feeling she was experiencing?

"Darling, what are you doing here?"

The voice brought Zasha back from her reverie as her eyes followed the sound. Walking towards her was the catalyst of both her anxiety and her newfound emotions: Diavolo. The demon prince was wearing his usual school uniform, and carried his signature carefree expression. Zasha turned her head as she felt her face heating up.

What’re you doing, ya idiot? It's just Diavolo.

From her peripheral view, she saw Diavolo's larger frame seating itself beside her. Almost immediately, his hand reached out to grasp hers before interlacing their fingers, and the scent of Diavolo's regular cologne overcame Zasha's senses. She tried to advert his gaze even more.

"N-nothing. W-what about you? Shouldn't you be in class?" Her speech came out broken and wavering.

Diavolo used his spare hand to gently turn Zasha's face towards himself. Her dark violet eyes darted around at a fast rate in an attempt to not fall into Diavolo's golden gaze, but it ultimately failed as the demon leaned forward to give her a soft yet equally heart-stopping kiss. Unable to deny the demon's blazing affection, Zasha couldn't help but to melt into the gesture.

As their lips parted, Zasha was no longer fidgeting in place; rather, she was looking down at their interlaced fingers. Diavolo smiled and ran his other hand through her short hair.

"Isn't that better now? Sorry, you just looked so troubled and I wanted to comfort you."

Comfort me? The thought of depending on someone was so strange and foreign to Zasha, who had always been the one to comfort others. Even when she still lived with her grandparents, she often found herself caring for herself or aiding them with certain tasks too difficult for their aging bodies (not that she minded. They were never forceful and did everything they could to provide her with a comfortable life).

She slowly lifted her gaze towards Diavolo, as if he was going to run the moment their eyes connected. But he didn't. If anything, the smile on his face grew and the sparkle in his eyes shone brighter than ever. This caused Zasha to feel both embarrassed but also oddly content. Though he was a demon, and the prince of them at that, Diavolo was a man who could be easily pleased and who seemed to have a carefree life. He is often found working hard, but it never dragged him down.

It was one of the major aspects that made Zasha fall for him.

His kindness, his optimism, his sense of responsibility; all of these were traits that Zasha admired in Diavolo. Though they both held a sense of duty, Diavolo went about it in a way that was bright like the sun.

I suppose what makes us different is our financial status. Zasha thought grimly. While Diavolo was a whole prince, Zasha lived in the slums and in abandoned ruins. Unlike the prince, she had to live day-by-day, uncertain yet prepared for the unknown.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, my darling?" Zasha gave a small sigh and shook her head.

"It's nothing serious. I was just thinking."

Diavolo gave her an expected look, as if to continue. She became a bit nervous; not necessarily because of him, but because she wasn't used to putting her heart on her sleeve. In fact, Diavolo's silent message was comforting.

"I just, ya know, never expect to find myself in this situation." She looked at her surroundings. "I mean the Devildom? Finding myself with the prince of demons, of all people? It's still a lot to take in, ya know?"

Diavolo frowned ever so slightly. Though his announcement was made public with Zasha's consent, he also worried for her. He heard about the rumours going around and the comments being made, but he knew that Zasha was not comfortable with others defending herself, and that she would deal with them herself if she was truly angry, demon or not. It was one of the key aspects of Zasha that made her so appealing; she was honest and treated everyone equally. Though she could be aggressive and brash, she had a heart of gold underneath, and she treated everyone with respect regardless of their species or status.

But she was also human, and humans had a much different psyche compared to angels and demons. In addition, Zasha's arrival to the Devildom was unexpected even for the demons themselves. While Kisara and Solomon were both properly introduced to the realm upon their arrivals, Zasha did not have the luxury to get adjusted to the school. She was on guard and cautious of everyone and everything.

Diavolo knew these things, and he tried his best to accommodate her as best as he could. He consulted Kisara and Solomon for advice on how to entertain a human adult, and spent many nights thinking of how to make her feel comfortable until they could find a way to send her home. And amidst the chaos, he fell in love with her, a phenomenon completely unplanned in the same way she crashed into his world.

"Yes, it would seem that these turn of events were quite surprising for the both of us." Diavolo leaned back, his hand still grasping his lover's firmly. "If there is anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, my darling."

"Nah," she sighed. "It's somethin' I gotta do myself, ya know? Is' not really somethin' I can ask for. I think I just need to meditate on the situation, ya know?"

Diavolo nodded and smiled some more. That sounded just like his Zasha. He was also told by his other human friends that often, one just needs time to become adjusted to sudden or huge changes, and Zasha was no different. Diavolo brought Zasha's hand to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly.

"Alright, my darling. Just don't forget that you're not on this alone, and that if you ever need or want help, I'm here." Zasha's face grew red once more, but before she could speak, a clock went off somewhere on the school grounds.

She looked around as students started appearing and walking through the courtyard. Classes were over. Zasha attempted to move away from Diavolo, but his grasp was firm. If anything, she could have sworn Diavolo moved closer to her. The demon, on the other hand, was not shy to display a little bit of physical affection. He sat closer to Zasha, so that they were shoulder-to-shoulder, and he continued to hold her hand. Students began staring and whispering amongst themselves as they passed by.

Zasha was about to question Diavolo when his expression made her pause. His eyes were closed as his forehead rested against hers, and he had a very calm and peaceful look. It dawned on Zasha that Diavolo did not care about what others thought of them together, and that if he didn't, why should she? She was sure that Diavolo could make everything right. With this reassurance in mind, Zasha's tense shoulders relaxed as she accepted Diavolo's affections readily. For a moment, it was paradise (ironically).

"Lord Diavolo, do you have a moment?"

Both the demon prince and human looked up in unison, and were met with Lucifer's intimidating glare. Behind him, Zasha could see Simeon and Barbatos with very nervous smiles on their faces.

Ah, I forgot that Dia decided to play hooky.

Zasha leaned back and removed her hand from Diavolo's as Lucifer began his rant about "responsibility" and "becoming like Mammon" and whatnot. The Avatar of Pride began dragging Diavolo, who was rambling many apologies in return, away with the help of Barbatos. Simeon followed as they left after giving a small greeting (and apology) to Zasha.

Zasha watched them leave and, just as they were about to turn a corner, she saw Diavolo break free from his retainer and right-hand man. He ran back to where they were sitting together and kissed Zasha once more.

"I'll see you at home, my darling?" Zasha stifled a laugh and playfully pushed the demon away.

"Okay, okay. Now get goin' before Lucifer there has an aneurism."

Diavolo smiled and gave her one last kiss before sprinting towards the council room, breezing past an annoyed Lucifer and an amused Barbatos and Simeon.

As for Zasha, the anxiety that tugged at her heart had subsided. It may arise again later, but for now, she was content and at peace with herself and her life.

As long as I'm with him, I think I'll be fine.

[END]

#obey me!#shallwedate obey me #obey me! one master to rule them all #otome #shallwedate #diavolo #lord diavolo #obey me diavolo #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #ren writes #original character #diavolo x oc #diavolo x f!oc #qilin writes

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