#when they put him in a tall hat i start banging my fists on the table and yelling TALLER. TALLER. like a medieval king

[bahoreal]

doing some studies of my favourite ben horrible histories lewks. i keep making his hats taller. at least im having fun.

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #23

This is a scene from a noir-inspired original work about a PI who's hired by a little girl to investigate the disappearance of her older brother. Enjoy!

xxx it’s gonna get me by the end of the night

He becomes aware of the tail somewhere on 9th, between the deli and the smoke shop--a tall man in a long brown coat, walking with his shoulders rounded forward as if that could somehow help him blend in (it doesn’t). His fedora is pulled down over his eyes, and though he keeps some distance between them it’s pretty obvious what he’s up to. Simon does his best to act like he hasn’t noticed the giant man following him, adjusting his route so that he makes his way out of the busier streets and to a quieter area. Then, when there aren’t many people around, he ducks into an alley and waits. 

The man appears faster than he expected--must’ve sped up in case Simon made a break for it--but Simon is ready and leaps on the man as soon as he appears, grabbing the front of his coat and slamming him against the wall so hard that the man’s hat falls to the ground. The face underneath is angular and hard, the eyes cold and piercing, mouth drawn into a thin line, jaw twitching. 

“You wanna tell me why you’re following me, friend?” Simon says. 

“You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Boss doesn’t like it.”

“And who’s your boss? He got something to do with the kid? That why he’s not happy?”

“He doesn’t know the kid. Never seen him, never heard of him. Doesn’t know him from a hole in the ground. But the kid is beside the point, Hornby. You’re starting to interfere with Roman’s business and he’s had enough.”

Simon’s stomach drops. 

Shit.

Of all the people whose henchman this could be, why did it have to be Roman? He lets go of the man’s jacket and gives his shoulder an awkward pat, stepping back. 

“Right. Right, well if he’s not involved then I’m sure I can turn my attention elsewhere. I’ve got plenty of other leads. Roman doesn’t need to worry about me.”

“You’ve said that before,” the big man growls.

“I mean it this time.”

“You’ve said that before, too. Boss wants to make sure this time.”

Before Simon has a chance to react, there’s a flash of metal--Big Man is fast--and an impact in Simon’s side that drives the wind out of him and doubles him over as he folds around the man’s fist. The hand withdraws, and with it a bloodied knife. Simon stares at it, then up at Big Man as he falls to his knees. 

“You--I--”

“Boss says if you survive this, you better stop sniffing around or next time the knife goes in your heart. You understand?”

Simon is trying to catch his breath, trying to fight the sickening dizziness that’s washing over him. He nods twice, closing his eyes when the movement makes the world spin. A hand grabs his hair and he groans. 

“Gotta hear you say it.”

“Ye-yes. I understand. I understand.”

“Good.”

The hand releases Simon’s hair and his head drops to his chest as Big Man disappears out of the alley, leaving Simon on the cold ground holding trembling hands against the hole in his gut in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. His mind is racing but he has to think, he needs to--he has to do something. He puts one hand against the wall. It takes him two tries to stand.

He’s got no change for a pay phone.

His apartment is too far. 

Hospital’s too far.

Businesses are close by now...

There is one place he can think of, someplace close with a resident who will probably be awake, who may even be able to help. 

Whether she actually will is another matter entirely.

But he’s got to try. 

He takes a deep breath and pushes away from the wall, leaving behind a streaking red handprint, and starts to walk.

xxx 

He knocks quietly. He doesn’t want to wake the neighbors, or the kid, and, if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t have the strength left for dramatic banging. Though he may need to summon it if she doesn’t come to the door soon. He’s feeling lightheaded--the blood loss, he expects. A wave of dizziness hits him and his vision goes fuzzy, ears ringing, and before he realizes he’s moving he’s leaning on his arm against the door. 

“Who are you?” someone says behind him, and the steadiness of her voice, the challenge in her words, leave no doubt in Simon’s mind who the voice belongs to. “Turn around slowly.”

“You armed?”

“I might be. You wanna find out?”

He can’t stop the chuckle that rises in his throat as he straightens up.

“What are you laughing at? I’m not afraid of you. Turn around. Slowly.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t think so.” He turns, taking his time because she told him to and because he might fall over otherwise. The blood loss is making his tongue loose, and his mind dull, because he says, “Not with Ruth for a daughter.”

The woman, who had been eyeing him with suspicion, goes rigid, face darkening. 

“Excuse me?”

Simon grimaces. “I’m--my name is Simon. I’m not--I’m a private investigator, that’s all. I promise, I haven’t done anything to hurt her, I just want to help, I’m looking for Noah. I swear. I’m only here because I need your help.”

She doesn’t look convinced, so he moves his hand away from the wound, showing his bloodied hand and side. Her eyes widen. 

“You’re a nurse, right? I’m-I’m sorry, only the hospital was so far away, I-I didn’t know if I would make it.”

His knees finally give way and she lurches forward, catching him before he falls, letting out a small grunt at the sudden weight of him. 

“Okay, let’s get you inside. Where did you walk from?”

“The alley behind Mozzie’s.”

She clicks her tongue as she helps him lean against the wall so she can fish her keys out of her purse. “That far?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You know who did this to you?”

“Best I keep that to myself. They won’t follow me here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She pauses with the key halfway turned in the lock to give him a look. “Well I wasn’t.”

She opens the door and he steps inside, with her close on his heels. She closes the door behind them before helping him to the couch. He barely manages to collapse onto it before he slips out of consciousness. 

“Hey!” she says sharply, and he blinks blearily at her. 

“Hm?”

“Stay awake.”

And then, from the other side of the room, a familiar, tiny, tired voice. “Mama?”

Even in his barely conscious state, he winces, grabbing a throw pillow and holding it in front of his blood stained shirt. 

“Honeybee, dont’--”

She’s too late. Ruth’s excited voice cries, “Simon!”

“Hey, kiddo,” he says as she appears in front of him, hair wild, rubbing at her eyes in a pair of oversized pajamas. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Ruth, I need you to listen to me,” the woman says. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, mama.”

“Go down to Ms. Bailey’s, tell her I sent you and tell her--tell her I need her to call for an ambulance. And then you stay with her until I come get you, you understand? You stay with her.”

Ruth’s brow furrows. “I don’t like Ms. Bailey’s.”

“Ruth Clementine, you do as I say. Go on!”

She doesn’t move, her frown deepening, lower lip protruding. “I’m afraid,” she says quietly.

Her mother’s face softens instantly. “I know, Honeybee. But it’s time to be brave. You’ve got a stinger, remember? Not just wings and pretty stripes.”

The familiar determination flashes across her little face and she nods. 

“Good girl. Fast, now!”

Ruth nods again and takes off. The second the door closes, the woman’s face twists with rage and she snatches the pillow from Simon, then pulls the scarf from around her neck, balling it up in her fists as though it had somehow personally wronged her.

“This happen because of you chasing after my boy?”

He shakes his head and she presses the scarf to his wound. He lets out a cry that’s equal parts pain and surprise. 

“Hush! And don’t lie to me. You may be a private eye, but I’m a nurse. You wanna try that again?”

“I…” She glares at him and he sighs. “Yes. And no. Looking for him led me down a line of inquiry that led to…this.”

She frowns, looking down at her hands. “No one asked you to do this.”

“Ruth did. She’s someone.”

She looks up at him sharply, and her eyes are watery but her expression is hard to read. They gaze at each other for what feels like a long time, and that’s when he realizes--

“I don’t know your name.”

She blinks, and he’s not sure she’s going to answer. And then she says, “Beth. Elizabeth.”

The world feels strange, and his body in it feels stranger--cold and light, weightless almost but not in a pleasant way. Still, he smiles. “Like the Bible.” He blinks heavily, and it’s hard to open his eyes again.

“Hey, Simon? Simon!” She squeezes his hand. “I know that look, and you’re not gonna do that to me, you hear me? You’re not! Keep your eyes open, Simon. Talk to me! That’s a nice suit, where’d you get it?”

“Looks nice,” he says, and his tongue is filling his mouth, the words thick as molasses. “But…it isn’t. Dirt--” He chuckles. “Dirt cheap, but I--I’m a good faker. Always have been. Well, no, that’s…That’s not quite true. Harry always knew. Harry…” He hasn’t talked about Harry in a long time, shouldn’t be talking about him but the blood loss is really getting to him. 

He realizes with a sickening feeling that he’s dying. 

“You…You should put on a sweater, Miss Beth. It’s cold in here.”

“Help will be here soon. Just keep talking, private eye. We don’t know each other nearly well enough for you to die on my couch.”

He’s not sure he has much choice in the matter. He doesn’ want her to see him when he goes.

“‘m alright. Just go…go get a sweater, please. I don’t…I don’t want you to be cold.”

“I’m not cold, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Simon hums in response. The pain seems distant now, and he doesn’t feel well and the world is spinning, spinning and his eyes are rolling--

And then they shut.

xxx 

[pasdasin]

Entaglement ch 6

levi x reader

summary: we really gonna have to get this guy! damn

cw: brief mention of almost sa, cursing, violence, levi 💀

an: sorry for the late update school is going crazy !

read under the cut

previous — next

The walk to work felt different. The usual mundane task felt more exciting, more how it used to feel. It felt like a lifetime since these feelings had entered your body and for the first time since learning of his death being fake, you felt something for him besides hate or grief. As you entered the building you called work, the atmosphere felt tense. Having to act as though everything was normal, you walked to your boss’s office and knocked. Soon after Conrad had opened the door and inside stood Titus O’lare.

He was a tall, lanky man. His hair was pushed back under his hat. His mouth had a long scar that crossed it diagonally and a cigarette between his lips. You entered the room and sat in your desk silently. The two men continued their discussion before your boss decided it was time.

“Y/n here is my best girl, pure.” Titus looked over in intrigue. “As a thank you for being such a good ally to my business, she offered to give you her virginity.” You stood up from your desk and walked over to the man.

“Please sir let me take you to my room,” you grabbed his hand and walked towards the master suite. With the two of you inside, he quickly started to kiss you and desperately started to remove his own clothes.

You had started to remove your own when you caught the glimpse of Levi and his squad outside the window. A slow dread as you realized what was coming next filled your body as you tried your best to please the man in front of you. You slightly spread your legs as he inspected you to make sure that Conrad was telling the truth.

“A virgin all for me, thank the walls.” He started to lift up your skirt when you mumbled something. He slapped your face in response “What was that you whore?”

“I’m sorry for whats about to happen,” before he could question you, Levi busted in through the window and tackled the man to the ground, beating the guy up for touching you. The rest of his squad piled into the room as Levi continued to pluverize the man.

“Levi stop,” you said holding his arm back from the next punch. Levi grunted and stood up, admiring his work.

“Jean, Connie get this guy back to the base,” Levi said before turning to you. “Are you okay? C’mon lets go.” Before you could protest, he carried you back to your home.

---

Levi had tortured the guy so much yet absolutely zero information was revealed about the boxes or the letters. In the basement, now turned torture room, was Hange and Erwin. Levi put down the rusty pliers and called in some of his squad to help clean up the mess, while the guy started taunting them.

“She’s mine you know, offered her virginity to me. That makes her my property.” Titus snickered staring at Levi, who was about to exit the room. Levi, without even thinking, turned to face the guy.

“She isn’t even a virgin, you know how I know that? Because I’m the one who claimed it.” His gaze hardened and he exited to room. Everyone else was left in shock. Levi quickly found you in your room, tears spilling over your eyes.

“What’s wrong y/n”

“You cost me my job, my life down here. Conrad definitely knows now. You know why I was working there? Because of our mothers debt. He was your mother’s pimp and my own. Now he is mine. I am a dead man because of you.” You clenched your fist. Levi reached out to touch you but was interrupted by a loud bang. You stared at him wide eyed as you felt your stomach. Your hand was covered in blood.

“Levi?” you asked before the world turned dark.

[lawslessons]

Not So Tough Now, Huh?

Not So Tough Now, Huh? (Zoro x Luffy)

Hello! This is inspired by the amazing @xruffyx drawing of Zoro and Luffy where Zoro is holding Luffy up by his shirt. I saw that drawing and thought of a cute and somewhat spicy little one shot to honor the amazing art piece! Please check them out and send them all my love xx

https://xruffyx.tumblr.com/post/636611591540998144/yeah-more-zolu-redraws-because-i-do-not-know-how

Warnings: Teasing, Suggestive Behavior

Synopsis: Challenge accepted. Luffy, Chopper and Usopp decide to see who can manage to wake up the swordsman first. But little do they know that Zoro has a little trick up his sleeve for his captain.  

No one knew what exactly spurred Luffy’s mood, and they were all too amused to even ask why this was happening. But it seemed to be a rather average, uneventful day on the Thousand Sunny when Luffy came to the middle of the lawn deck and started to smile. 

“I want to play a game!” Luffy laughed. Chopper and Usopp both looked at each other in excitement, they both smiled and looked at their captain with stars in their eyes. 

“A game? What game?” Chopper asked as he clapped his hooves together and moved to be standing on top of a box to be more at Luffy’s height. Luffy sported his signature toothy smile and rested his hands against the box. 

“Zoro is sleeping, right?” Luffy asked. Usopp rose a brow and looked around the deck. Nami and Robin were both talking to one another, steam was coming from the kitchen so he knew Sanji was in there. A slight hum could he heard too, so he knew Franky was in his workshop while Brook worked on orchestrating a new piece. 

“I think? He’s supposed to be watching out of the crow’s nest to see if any ships are getting close,” Usopp explained, but Zoro sleeping came as a surprise to no one. “But Luffy, what does that have to do with your game?” Usopp asked his grinning captain. 

“Perfect! It’s everything. I wanna see who can wake Zoro up first,” Luffy explained with a cheeky smirk. Usopp and Chopper both felt the blood drain from their cheeks at that suggestion. 

“Luffy, isn’t that dangerous? Zoro may be upset by that,” Chopper pointed out, but he was honestly just saying that out of fear for himself. Luffy simply laughed away the concern and shook his head. 

“It’ll be fine! Come on, it’ll be fun!” Luffy said before he grabbed both of his friends by the hand and moved to run up to the crow’s nest. When they were there, Luffy pointed to the door and nodded. “He’s asleep.” He stated. 

“Shouldn’t you be more upset by that?” Usopp scoffed to which Luffy shook his head. 

“No one is here! It’s ok,” He assured his friends before he pointed to Chopper. “You’re first.” Luffy said to the small creature. Chopper gasped and moved to hide behind Usopp’s leg. 

“Me? Why me?!” Chopper asked as he glared up at the captain. Luffy shrugged and started to scratch at his chest. “Because you always have the best ideas.” That seemed to be all Chopper needed to snap out of his funk. He smiled and started to dance around and giggle. 

“It’s not like you saying that makes me happy or anything, idiot!” Chopper giggled to which Usopp sighed. 

“You’re too easy...”

After a couple minutes of thinking, Chopper opened the door rather loudly with an armful of medical paraphernalia in his arms. “Oi, Zoro! I need your help! Someone’s dying!” Chopper exclaimed. The swordsman didn’t seem to notice Chopper being in the room, he continued to snore and relax under the afternoon sun. “You’re dying...?” Chopper tried next with no avail. He stood there for a minute before he pulled away, sighing. “He won’t wake up!” Chopper complained as he put his supplies back in his backpack and looked over at Usopp and Luffy. 

“Usopp, you’re next!” Luffy said as he tried to shove Usopp into the room. Nearly on the verge of tears, Usopp grabbed at the doorframe and looked back at Luffy. 

“I can’t Luffy, I have an incurable disease known as I-am-scared-Zoro-will-kill-me-if-I-wake-him-up disease!” Usopp proclaimed as he started to use his feet against the door frame to stop Luffy from pushing him in. Luffy pouted and pulled back after that. 

“I thought you were the bravest one here,” Luffy mumbled, and within seconds, Usopp was away from the doorframe and standing tall and proud in front of them. Usopp smirked and ran his thumb and pointed finger along his jaw until it met at his chin. 

“You’re right about that, Luffy. I am the bravest man in the world, the conquer of all seas, Captain Usopp!” Usopp declared as he stuck his hand up in the air and quickly brought it down in a fist. Chopper gasped in excitement and clapped his little hands together. 

“Amazing!” Chopper praised to which Usopp smirked. 

“I shall be the one who wakes him up! No one else can beat me!” Usopp said as he went into the room with a brave look on his face. But the moment he laid eyes on Zoro, his entire bravado fell. “Oh.” he said in realization. And before he could back out, the door behind him was shut and he heard giggling. Panicking, Usopp began to bang his fists against the door. “Oi, Luffy! Chopper! Open the door!” He loudly whispered as his banging became as panicked as his voice. “Please! He’s going to kill me!” Usopp pleaded. After a minute of deliberation between Chopper and Luffy, and more begging from Usopp, the door was finally opened and Usopp fell down with an unsatisfactory thud. “I am never doing that again!” Usopp stated as he pushed his laughing captain away from him. 

“It’s your turn now Luffy!” Chopper said with a big smile on his face. Luffy didn’t look phased, he smiled and looked at the now closed door. 

“I can do it,” Luffy said before he walked inside of the room. Within an instant, the door was closed on him and he heard Usopp and Chopper snickering behind the door. Luffy looked around and saw Zoro resting his back against the wall and sleeping. His soft snores filled the room and Luffy slowly approached the beast in front of him. But just as he was about to grab Zoro’s shoulder, a hand met with Luffy’s wrist and tightened around the small joint.

Zoro groggily opened an eye and looked up at his captain while he yawned and tried to shake the sleep out of himself. 

“Zoro?” Luffy asked in surprise as the swordsman stood up and towered over the petite male in front of him. 

“I heard you were trying to wake me up,” Zoro said with his deep, raspy, tired voice. Luffy felt a strange shock go through his body just by hearing Zoro talk, it made his heart begin to race. Unbeknownst to Luffy, Zoro was able to feel it. Because of the hand on Luffy’s wrist, Zoro was able to feel that slight rise in his captain’s heartbeat. He had to admit that it made him feel a little proud, he didn’t even know he could have an effect like this over his precious captain. He was going to have some fun with this.   

“Why did you want to wake me up, captain?” Zoro asked as he leaned in closer to his captain and smirked down at him. Luffy looked at Zoro with wide, searching eyes and felt his pulse increase just a little more at the way Zoro was addressing him. Luffy was stunned silent, his lips slightly parted when he looked up at the swordsman. 

Zoro chuckled and gently popped his thumb into his captain’s mouth and felt his tongue and warm mouth before he pulled away. He was still tired and somewhat annoyed for being woken up, but seeing Luffy like this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Luffy’s cheeks turned red as he tried to pull away. But he wasn’t really trying, something deep inside of him kept him close to Zoro and kept him interested. 

“Why did you want to wake me up?” Zoro asked, this time he didn’t bother to hide that annoyance he had towards Luffy, after all he always prided himself in how long his naps were, being interrupted wasn’t something he liked no matter the circumstances. “Ever since Chopper came in here, I’ve been awake, I’ve just been waiting for you,” Zoro felt Luffy’s heart drum rhythmically under his thumb and he smirked and gently traced the vein that was there. Luffy’s breath became shallow and the captain looked confused with himself and why he was reacting like this towards Zoro. Maybe Zoro wasn’t really that annoyed anymore.  

“T-The reason was -- “ Luffy began before he was interrupted by Zoro grabbing Luffy by his shirt and lifting him up so they were eye level.  Zoro stared at Luffy and tightened his grip, the bags under his eyes were evident. 

“You got something to say, Captain Bastard?” Zoro asked as he pulled Luffy closer to him just to make the poor captain that much more embarrassed. Luffy looked away with red painting his cheeks and he started to squirm to leave Zoro’s hold. Zoro smirked and moved to use his index finger to feel down Luffy’s jaw and down his neck. Zoro drank in Luffy’s soft sounds and devoured the small groan that came when he applied pressure on the sensitive spot on his neck. 

“N-no, sorry...” Luffy said before Zoro finally put Luffy down and eyed him. Luffy didn’t understand what Zoro was doing, but he liked it. The tingles that shot down his spine nearly made his heart jump out of his chest. 

“Better tell them that you won, captain.” Zoro breathed into Luffy’s ear. Luffy softly gasped and reached forward to grab at Max’s shirt in his surprise. This was the exact reaction Zoro was wanting. He smirked at Luffy and gently nudged him away from him. “Or maybe I’m the one that won, you’re not so tough now, huh?” Zoro teased as the flustered captain quickly moved to make his way out of the crow’s nest. With Zoro’s laugh ringing in his ears, Luffy left the crow’s nest and used his hat to partially cover the deep color on his cheeks. 

“Luffy? Are you ok? You’re all red!” Chopper gasped as he reached for his beg and began to rummage through it for some medical supplies. Usopp looked at the captain and then at the swordsman who went back to sleeping. 

“So why were you in there so long?” Usopp asked.

Luffy pulled his hat away and plastered on one of his signature smiles. “I won!” he said as he glanced over at the closed door and felt his pulse race again. Luffy wasn’t even sure if he won, after all, his feelings were all jumbled together and he didn’t know how to sort them out anymore because of Zoro. 

The raspy voice, the hand on his wrist, the thumb in his mouth, him grabbing his shirt, the fingers on his skin. Him whispering in his ear... Luffy felt his chest tighten and a small sigh escaped his lips. How could he win if he was still so confused? Maybe that was what Zoro was plotting. 

“I didn’t win.” Luffy suddenly said. 

“We know,” Usopp teased as he pointed to the door. Luffy tensed, did they find out what happened between him and Zoro? “Zoro is still asleep, so I think that he won.” Usopp pointed out. Luffy had to admit that Usopp was right, but his reasoning was completely different for that. 

“Yeah, Zoro won.” Luffy agreed with a flustered smile. Unbeknownst to him, the swordsman sported a cocky grin at hearing Luffy’s words through the door. Oh yeah, he was winning. 

[quickspinner]

Month of Miracles - The Longest Night

Find the prompt list here! 

 Hallmark Movie AU Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3

Luka played assistant while Marinette got the kids all garbed in their costumes, making little final adjustments and snipping hanging threads and acting for all the world as if this was just as serious as any fashion show she’d ever worked, instead of the dress rehearsal for a small town library Christmas pageant. He followed her around, holding things, handing her what she needed, and trying not to get caught mooning over her like the lovesick sap he was. The kids already had plenty of ammo to use against him, so he tried to keep a professional demeanor—but that really probably only made them snicker harder. 

Mostly, though, they were too excited about their outfits to care. Marinette had found a way to interpret the costumes that felt true to who these kids were, and that was probably rarer than it should be. 

The angels in particular were a masterpiece, especially given how little white there was in his rock star wardrobe. They glittered and shimmered with all of the hardware and rhinestones, and their wings were dangerous-looking concoctions made of wire and trailing fabric and dangling crystals and beads. They looked like the kinds of beings who would have to announce their presence with “Fear not!” and it was awesome. 

The angels weren’t actually his favorite part, though. Marinette had gotten quickly flustered in the face of Rose’s eager excitement, and started making excuses to leave. She’d snatched his notebook out of his pocket, pulled the pen out of the coil and scribbled her phone number on the back, babbling only semi-coherently as she did so. Then she’d snatched up the lighted jacket, kissed him quickly, and fled. Luka had been too busy fending off Rose’s interrogation to even think to question why she had taken the jacket, until she brought out the costumes for Mary and Joseph. The holy family were now softly illuminated with cleverly concealed fiber optic lights in their hoods. Somehow Marinette had managed to turn off the flashing and camouflage the lights enough to give the children a soft glow, like a renaissance painting come to life (if renaissance madonnas had punk haircuts). 

That wasn’t really why he liked it, though. Marinette had removed the lights so carefully, and repaired the jacket so cleverly, that it was now as good as new, if a bit smaller than it had been, and she had taken to wearing it all the time. Catching a glimpse of his jacket under her big pink puffy winter coat made him grin like a fool every time.

She was wearing it even now, and he felt his grin turn dopey and soft again as he watched Marinette get down on the floor without a second thought to fix a hem that had come loose. She was so amazing, and the last few days had been wonderful, whether they were just driving aimlessly around town and chatting while they admired the lights, or lost in tender looks and touches, or just sharing space while they worked on their own projects. Luka knew without doubt that he was utterly in love with her. It might shatter him when she left, but they had four precious days left and Luka planned to make the most of them. Besides, who knew what could happen? It was the modern age, and long distance relationships were a thing, and surely there was something they could work out— 

Luka quashed those thoughts as quickly as he could. It wasn’t a good idea to be thinking that way, and he didn’t even know if Marinette would welcome anything of the kind from him. Better to stay in the moment. Something would work out; if she felt anything close to what he felt for her, she couldn’t leave him totally behind...and if she didn’t, then it was just as well for things to end now. He’d get over it. Somehow.

In the meantime, he’d enjoy every conversation, every soft look, every touch and kiss and sigh of his name from her lips.

Yep, he was absolutely basking in the knowledge of how completely hopeless he was.

Marinette stood up and backed away, looking at her handiwork with satisfaction as Rose began rounding up the kids to start the actual rehearsal. Luka sidled casually to Marinette’s side, letting his hand brush against hers. She wiggled her fingers in between his absently, and Luka grinned that stupid grin again, aiming it at the floor. 

Teenage giggling suggested that he wasn’t at all successful in hiding it. He rolled his eyes, but the grin remained. Beat it , he mouthed at the kid who was snickering, raising his eyebrows threateningly, but instead the kid burst into outright laughter and a chorus of juvenile “ooooohs,” suddenly filled the air. Confused, they followed the pointing fingers and looked up to find one of the youngsters sitting on the bookshelf behind them, holding a piece of mistletoe out over their heads. 

Luka rolled his eyes. “Oh, very funny, Rowan,” he scoffed, but then he turned and caught Marinette’s face in his hands and kissed her. Without lifting his lips from hers, he hooked one arm around her neck and the other around her waist and bent her backwards. The liplock itself wasn’t anything special—he wasn’t about to ravish her in front of a bunch of schoolkids, particularly since he knew all of their parents personally and did not need the earful they would give him—but it didn’t matter; the utterly cliche dip was as gross to them as a real kiss would have been. 

“EW!” screamed the younger children, while the older ones either whooped or groaned, and Luka sent them a wicked grin as he set Marinette back up on her feet.  

“Never bluff a Couffaine,” he told them, reaching out to ruffle Rowan’s multicolored head as he dropped down frm the bookshelf.  Rose gave him a smug look as she came to retrieve the delinquents, and Luka couldn’t even make himself glare at her. 

Marinette smacked his chest and he just winked at her, catching her hand and holding it to his heart. He got a little charge from the way her stern face twitched and then melted into a smile almost as silly as his own. He bent down as if drawn by a magnet and their lips met for a softer, more genuine kiss, and then she shoved his face away and turned back to watch the wise men start their parade to Bethlehem from the back of the library. 

Luka looped his arms around Marinette’s waist and shook his head slightly as he watched the shepherds, decked in shredded leather and ripped denim and artistically mussed as though they really had been lounging around a field, cower before the rhinestone-studded angel glittering brilliantly in the light of the old spot Rose had bullied or begged from somewhere. “You’re a genius,” he murmured in her ear. 

She tensed a little, but snuggled back in his arms. Luka sighed softly and nuzzled her temple, wishing he could help her, but whatever she was going through in her creative life, she was going to have to figure out for herself. He found her hand with his again and laced her slender, hard-working fingers through his own. 

They both jumped when the library doors flew open with a bang. Everyone jumped or stiffened, and a room full of wide eyes turned to look at the tall, blond woman wearing an absurdly large hat and a fur stole stomp into the library like it was a fashion runway.

Luka felt Marinette gasp, and tightened his hold on her. 

The woman looked around, and demanded in a voice that echoed off the walls. “Well, where is she? Marinette Dupain-Cheng, get out here this instant or you’re fired .”

Marinette pushed him away, and walked toward the tall woman, who spun on her heels to face her. “A-Audrey,” Marinette stammered. “What are you doing here?” 

“My dear, the question is, what are you doing here?” Audrey replied with a sniff, looking around the little library. “No wonder you haven’t been able to get any work done in this dismal place.” 

“Audrey, I’m on leave,” Marinette began, and Audrey flapped a hand dismissively. 

“Leave, schmeave. We have deadlines , Marinette. Deadlines you are appallingly behind on.” 

“B-behind?” Marinette stuttered, looking taken aback. “We were on schedule! I left very specific instructions!” Luka came up behind her and put a hand on her back in silent support.

“Those instructions were ridiculous ,” Audrey sneered. “The products were completely unacceptable. And since you didn’t deign to answer my calls, I came to fetch you myself. If you weren’t so talented I would have just fired you on the spot for abandoning things in such a state.” 

He felt Marinette tense under his hand, and her fists clenched. “Unacceptable—Audrey, you approved those designs! If the production team—” 

“ You are the designer,” Audrey accused, pointing an immaculately manicured finger in Marinette’s face. She flinched, and Luka had to fight every instinct in his body to keep still. “This is your failure. Now come along. You have a lot to make up for. Get in the car, we’ll stop and pick up your things on the way.” She turned and stalked to the door, clearly expecting Marinette to follow. 

Marinette stared after her with her mouth open. Then she closed it, swallowed, and straightened her shoulders—and moved to follow Audrey. 

Luka caught her hand without meaning to. “Marinette,” he said, and she turned her face to look up at him. For a moment they just stared at each other, and cold dread coiled in the pit of Luka’s stomach. 

“I guess this is it,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Luka. Goodbye.” 

Luka stared at her as her hand slipped out of his. She picked up her pink coat as she passed the chair where he had placed it earlier. She dug in the pocket a moment, and took out a box, putting it on the table. She took one look back at him, and then followed Audrey out, catching the door so that it closed with a quiet click instead of a slam. 

“Luka,” Rose whispered at his side, and he barely even felt her touch on his arm. He watched through the windows of the library door as Marinette, head down, shoulders bowed, got into Audrey’s limo. 

Only when the car pulled away down the street could he move. He closed his mouth, and swallowed. Then he went quietly to his own coat, and put it on slowly, aware of the eyes on him the entire time. 

He emerged into the sun and cold, fresh air, and looked around. The street was as it always was this time of year, with families and couples and individuals meandering through. Tinsel decorations sparkled on the streetlights, and the storefronts all had fake snow frosting the corners of their windows.

Luka blinked against the glare, so bright it brought tears to his eyes, put his hands in his pockets, and turned for home. 

***

Marinette didn’t even hear most of Audrey’s chatter on the ride back to the city. She couldn’t stop thinking about that look on Luka’s face. 

I should never have kissed him , she thought, staring out of the window. I knew better, and I let him make me believe . 

She sighed—silently, so as not to draw Audrey’s notice. She wasn’t being fair. Of course it was a shock, what happened. Neither of them had been expecting it. There had been no bittersweet farewell, no moment of closure. No last kiss goodbye, no one last diamond moment to hold on to as the sands began to flow again. 

He would get over it, once the shock passed, she thought mournfully, running an absent finger over the leather wrap on the door handle. He’d send her a text later, she was sure, something sweet and thoughtful, to let her know he was alright and that he was sorry things happened the way they had, but good luck and have a good life and oh, thanks for the present, that was really sweet.

And then he’d go back to his cozy life and forget her like he intended to all along. 

She was so stupid , letting him talk her into living that little fantasy for even a day, let alone— 

She shook her head slightly. This was better. It only would have been worse if she’d stayed longer. 

...at least she had the memories to hold in her heart, though. He’d been right about that. She could remember what it was like to feel like he loved her, his affection and pride and unwavering support, his warm, sweet kisses, and the way that he looked at her…the way everyone giggled at them in the cafe. The quiet, private times when she’d curled in the hollow of his body as he held his guitar around her and played just for her, and she hadn’t had to do anything or be anything. The time he’d taken her up on the hill and they’d stood amongst the young trees, cuddled close against the chill as they looked up at the stars and for once she felt like the universe was big enough to let her breathe...

She fingered the lapel of his jacket beneath her own. Okay, maybe he’d been right too. Maybe the memories were worth having. 

If only she could have stayed. 

She gave another small shake of her head, blinking back tears, keeping her face averted from Audrey slightly. 

“And the colors were atrocious —”

“I told you the color scheme was wrong,” Marinette said before she could think the better of it. 

“It’s your job to make it work,” Audrey snapped. “ You sourced those fabrics.”  

“According to your specifications,” Marinette shot back, her tone even but unyielding. “If you want to overrule me, that’s your prerogative, but don’t blame me for the outcome.” 

Audrey pulled off her ever-present sunglasses and looked at Marinette with narrowed eyes. “If you don’t want this opportunity,” she said coldly, “then say so and stop wasting my time.” 

Marinette shrank slightly. “Of course I do,” she sighed miserably, looking back out of the window. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.” 

“And don’t you forget it,” Audrey sneered, sliding her sunglasses back on. “Or I’ll find someone else to clean up your mess.”

Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in her lap, willing herself to stay silent.

Speaking up wouldn’t do any good anyway. 

***

He was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly into space, when Rose got home. Luka didn’t even hear the door open, but he did hear Rose’s footsteps approaching over the wood floor. 

“Luka,” Rose said softly, but he didn’t look at her. She set a small box on the table in front of him. “I’m pretty sure this was meant for you.” When he didn’t move, she slid it over until it touched his fingers. “You should open it.”

She waited a moment longer, and when he didn’t move, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Luka.” He listened to her retreat, leaving him alone again. 

Sometime later he felt fingers slide through his hair, and the familiar song of his mother’s jangling jewelry was quickly followed by her scent surrounding him as she bent and pressed her lips to his forehead. “I’m proud of ye, son,” she told him. “Take as long as ye need.” 

He sat there until it was dark outside, without really thinking about anything in particular. He just felt...numb. 

Finally he looked at the box Rose had left him. He contemplated it for a moment, and then drew himself up with a sigh, and picked up the box. It was a nice box, lined in silver ribbon. Trust Marinette to pay attention to every detail. He fumbled it a little before he managed to slide the top off. 

There was a pair of black leather gloves inside. Luka frowned slightly, picking them up. The leather was buttery soft, like it was already broken in, and...he slid one on his hand and flexed his fingers.

It fit perfectly, with none of the tightness or resistance that had always bothered him in the past. “You little sneak,” he murmured, tears stinging his eyes even as he smiled. “How’d you pull this off, hmm?” 

Luka remembered suddenly how they’d been talking at Sally’s, and she had walked her little fingers over each finger of his hand, like it was something completely idle. He’d thought it was cute at the time. He’d thought she was just teasing him, since she pulled her hand away every time he tried to take it, but…

He’d be willing to put money on it that she had used some of the leather from his wardrobe to make these, and she’d chosen something he’d worn enough to take the stiffness out of the leather. And the accents around the cuffs and along the darts at the back of the hands...those were from the jacket she’d kept. The one she’d had to cut down when she took the lights out.The one she’d still been wearing, when she walked out today.

Luka swallowed a lump in his throat. All that work that she’d done, on the children’s costumes, and she’d found time to do this for him as well. Because she cared about him, and she loved his music, and she wanted him to take care of his hands. 

“Marinette,” he sighed, letting his head fall on the table. “You’re killing me here.” 

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there after that before Juleka’s hand rested lightly on his back. She didn’t say anything, just stayed there, and after a minute, he lifted his head and leaned it back on her. She stroked his hair just like his mother had. 

“You need a ride to the bus station in the morning?” Juleka asked. 

Luka closed his eyes. “Yeah.” 

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet ugly prompts, 15 and/or 21 for ot4?

Here you go! I went with 15: I step out of the bathroom and right into the middle of a bar fight and you punch me accidentally so I punch back on instinct. There's no sex scene, but quite a bit of talk about sex.

Duck’s taken a few hits in his life. He’s not expecting one when he steps from the bathroom of Tarkensian’s General Store and Lunch Counter, but that’s what he gets, sharp and hard in the eye.

“Fuck” He yelps, swinging his fist out to keep whoever the fuck is pissed at him from doing it again. He misses, catching sight of a tall government suit as his momentum spins him into the wall.

At the gunshots, he drops to the floor.

“Goddamn it.” His attacker sprints towards the front of the store. Another shot, squealing tires, banging doors. By the time he’s made a cautious journey to the cash register to make sure Leo is okay, the man who punched him is arguing with another suit in front of a Dusenberg with bullet holes in the right front tire.

“I told you to never discharge your weapon unless absolutely necessary.” All six feet of mr quick fists is staring down at his partner.

“They were getting away!”

“Necessary means life or death, Agent Roberts; if we tracked them once, we can track them again, and stopping them today is not worth the life of the civilians in that store. Or anywhere else.”

“Who gives a damn if some hill-billys take a hit, this is government business-”

“That’s enough.” The taller man’s voice sharpens, “Protecting the people down here is why we’re doing this in the first place. If you can’t get that through your skull, you’re asking for a one way ticket back to the tiny police force they pulled you from.”

The shorter man rips his badge from his pocket, bouncing it off the other’s chest, “Save yourself the fucking trouble, I fucking quit.” With that he stomps down the dusty road towards the only hotel in town.

Duck and Leo, who’ve been watching the exchange like it’s a picture show, pivot to setting knocked cans and scattered boxes right as the remaining agent steps through the door. He stands, waiting for them to look his way and clearing his throat to speed them along.

“I, um, I apologize, Mr. Tarkesian. I only meant to question those two men in a friendly way, but the moment they saw my badge one threw a haymaker. Which leads me to assume they are bootleggers, a conclusion I was deferring until I could speak to them. That’s neither here nor there. Are you alright? Are your customers?”

“All in one piece, sir. Your partner ended a sack of flour, but nothin’ else.” Leo tilts his head at the pile of white dust, “though you gave Duck here a hell of a shiner.”

“Oh my lord.” The man puts a hand over his mouth when he sees Duck’s face, “I’m sorry. You stepped out of the washroom right when I tried to stop the younger brother.”

“S’okay. Not, uh, not the worst thing to ever happen to me at dinner time.” Duck would rather not get involved in whatever the hell is going on here.

“No, it’s not.” The man runs a hand over his slick-backed black hair, “will you let me buy you dinner as an apology? Or at least some ice for your eye?” The chagrin is unusual from a government man in this part of the country, and Duck can think of worse evenings than letting a handsome face pay for his meal.

“You buy me dinner” he tilts his head at the lunch counter, “I won’t be sore about bein’ sore.”

The man smiles, “That seems fair. Mr. Tarkesian, if you’re able to write up a bill for the damaged goods I’ll...well, I’ll do my best to get you paid back for it. Have someone drop it off at Amnesty Lodge for Agent Stern.”

“Will do.” Leo nods, then adds, “Duck, ask Pigeon for some ice on the house for that eye.”

Once their orders are in and Duck’s eye is chilling, the agent sets a thoughtful hand on his hat where it’s resting on the counter.

“I really am sorry.”

“Not the first time someone’s slugged me. Definitely the hardest, though. So, uh, guess that’s somethin.”

“If it’s any consolation, my hand sympathizes with your eye.” He holds up his right hand, bruises blooming on the knuckles. Duck holds out the ice but the agent shakes his head, “it’s my own fault for not opting for a more efficient way of apprehending those men.”

“Take it you’re here tryin to bust some moonshiners?”

“Yes. As you might imagine, it hasn’t led to the best reception.” He tilts his head towards the quartet of men scowling at them from down the counter.

“Doubt your partner helped with that any.”

“You don’t know the half of it. One of those men who wants the respect for his badge but doesn’t give a damn about earning it.” He sighs as Pigeon sets their sandwiches in front of them, “Nevermind. I shouldn’t complain about a fellow agent. Um. What do you do here in Kepler?”

“Arborist for every town in the county. The bigwigs at city hall realized any money they saved lettin me go when things got bad wouldn’t make up for what would happen if trees took out houses or the brush got too high and made it easy for the whole damn town square to burn to the ground.”

“Sounds like they’re lucky to have you.”

“Yep.”

They eat in silence, evening sun searing their backs through the windows.

“I’m, um, well I was going to say I’m usually better at conversation than this. But it’s been so long since I did any talking that wasn’t part of an investigation or government business I’ve forgotten how to be charming. Or even interesting.”

“Buyin a fella dinner is pretty charming.”

“No, it’s just the decent thing to do.”

“Take the compliment city boy.”

The agent raises an eyebrow and Duck prepares to be hit again for disrespect. Then Stern laughs, soft and tired, before sending a Clark Gable caliber smile his way, “It’s nice to be talked to like a person instead of a suit.”

Duck shifts on the stool to more easily enjoy the way blue eyes glint when he says, “Even easier if you told me your name.”

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

“Well, Joe, this is me.” Duck gestures to the house that’s been in the Newton family since it was built. He’s the last one left in town, so the faded paint and sturdy foundation are all his.

The agent regards the house with the same cool curiosity he’s applied to everything else they’ve encountered tonight. It’s only when his gaze lands on Duck that it takes on a new dimension, friendly and almost innocent in it’s hope.

“You, uh, feel like joinin’ me for some coffee? Wouldn’t wanna interfere with government business by keepin you.” He teases.

Joe is already joining him on the porch, “Roberts probably reported on our earlier altercation. I’ll have better luck keeping Agent Hayes from shouting my ear off if I give him until tomorrow to cool off.”

Duck gets the lights on as Joe hangs his hat and jacket by the door. He opens the cabinet, searching for clean glasses and mugs, spotting the bottle of bourbon that was there long before prohibition started right when the taller man steps behind him.

“Uh, any chance I can convince you that’s a bottle of vinegar or somethin’?”

“No. It doesn’t matter, though.” Since Duck’s hands are full, Joe closes the cabinet, “I don’t give a damn if people drink. I don’t care if someone wants to brew up moonshine in their yard or run a bar. What I care about is how this whole mess has made it easier for mobs to flourish, for normal people to get caught in the crossfire of a corrupt police force and ruthless criminals.” The sofa creaks as he sits down, “I’m not in Kepler because I think it’s some cesspool; I’m here because I know a major bootlegging ring has a leg here, and that the people who benefit from it won’t be the people who get arrested in my investigation casts to small a net.”

Duck keeps his mouth shut; he could tell Joe just how much Kepler’s changed since a certain family got their hands on it. But he’s not sure what else he’d reveal without even meaning to.

Even exhausted, Joe manages to look handsome when he adds, “All that’s to say, I wouldn’t mind a drop of that bottle in my coffee.”

The longer he sits on the couch with his coffee cup, the more relaxed Joe turns. He also doesn’t move when Duck scoots closer, and soon their legs and hands keep bumping each other.

“Do you know Amnesty Lodge?”

“Yep. Few of my friends work there, it’s full of good folks.”

“I agree. I, um, the only other person in town who’ll talk to me like I’m a human works there. Barclay’s one of the few people who doesn’t seem scared of me. Or, he did at the beginning. Now, well, some days I’m almost convinced he’s happy to see me.” A secretive blush dusts his cheeks, “I’m sorry, I get rambly after ten p.m. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to about him.”

Duck happens to be privy to what a man in love with Barclay Cobb looks like. So he keeps some gentleness in his tone when he teases, “City boy likes his men a little country?”

“Barclay is from San Francisco.” Joe looks up from his nails, bringing them almost nose to nose.

“That don’t answer the question.”

“Maybe this will.” Joe drops backwards onto the cushions, taking Duck with him courtesy of a kiss and not letting him up until dawn.

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

Practically everyone in Kepler has a job on the side, some legal and others not. Duck considers himself lucky that his is all pleasure with a chaser of business.

He let’s himself into what could generously be called a shack, the ragged exterior giving way to walls of beautiful drawings and a floor that’s more paper than wood. Seated in the far corner at a three-legged desk is a tall, skinny man with pale hair and red spectacles. Kepler’s Van Gogh of Vice, Indrid Cold.

At Duck’s footsteps he turns, angular cheeks and sharp nose a bit sunburnt but smile putting that star (and any other) to shame.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite model.” He stands, undershirt and denim pants hanging off him as he gathers Duck into a kiss. Then he pulls back, concerned, “goodness, what happened to your eye?”

“Hey, sugar.” Duck kisses his chin, “Got caught up in some trouble at Leo’s. Nothin to worry about. What am I today?”

“A brush salesman. Go put on that jacket, the rest of your clothing will do just fine.”

It’s the same routine every time; Indrid sketches Duck in some poor replica of a costume (a policeman, a boxer, a salesman), then instructs him to strip down to some level of undress. If it’s a weekend, Indrid will ask if he can sketch Duck for more complex drawings, some nude and some not, rather than the Tijuana Bibles that help line his threadbare pockets.

He always pays Duck for his time, even though Duck points out that, as his boyfriend, he can see him naked and hard any time for free.

They talk about birds and work, about going to the city sometime soon for a real night out, until Indrid instructs him to remove his shirt.

“My, my, what did you get up to last night?” Indrid traces a finger around the hickey on Duck’s lower belly.

Duck tells him, letting Indrid scoldingly nibble his collarbone as punishment for not inviting him to join.

“I’ve given Agent Stern a wide berth, so it is reassuring to know he’s a decent sort. Though someone really ought to inform him that Barclay shares his feelings.”

“Yeah. Barclay.” Duck chuckles, “they’re two grown men, if they can’t figure out they wanna fuck, I ain’t gonna hold their hands and drag ‘em into bed. Uh, wait, fuck-”

“I got both your intended meaning and the double one. Now kindly remove your trousers and lay on the bed.”

“Any specific pose?”

“Whichever one allows me to be in you the quickest.”

“You’re the boss, sugar.”

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

“He did what?” Barclay thunks the last crate into the back of Indrid’s car.

“Dearest, I know you’re attached to Joseph, but Duck did nothing wrong by sleeping with him-”

“That’s not what I meant.” The cook sets the bags atop the clinking crates, “Duck can’t lie. Him fucking around with Joseph could end really badly.”

“Duck doesn’t know about this” Indrid closes the car, fidgets with the key.

“Yeah, which means he doesn’t know what things to hide. Joseph is smart, Duck could say something totally innocent and give him a clue.”

Indrid rubs his forehead, “We can discuss it further when I get back from this run.”

Barclay mumbles, “okay.” Then Indrid is being lovingly crushed in a hug as his boyfriend speaks into his shoulder, “Sorry I snapped. I get so fucking nervous when you do this.”

“That makes two of us. But I didn’t come by my nickname for nothing. I slip by as quietly as a moth in the dark.”

“But what if the cops lay a trap? Or some other family wants in on Leeshon’s territory and decides to hijack you? Or-”

“Leave the what-ifs to me, dearest. I’ll be back in two days. I promise.”

When Indrid is no more than a shadow on the backroad, Barclay trudges back to the Lodge. He hates this, hates the men who put him in this position, hates the feds who sniff around like dogs waiting to bite, hates how one of the two men who can stop his heart with his smile is also one who could throw him in jail.

The instant he sees Joseph in his usual corner seat, that all evaporates. He knows the agent originally used the Lodge restaurant as a place to eavesdrop. When he’s here these days, it’s solely for Barclay’s cooking and attention. Barclay will give him as much of both as he desires, feed him full of it in hopes of delaying the inevitable. So when the chairs are up and it’s only Joseph leaning on the counter asking if Barclay will join him for a slice of pie, the cook sits on the stool beside him, leaning in as close as he dares, and tries not to think of the future.

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

“Mr. Cold?”

“I’m on the back porch.” Indrid calls, cleaning up his paints as Joseph rounds the house, his pristine shirt, shoes, and hair making Indrid feel a rare bust of self-consciousness at his dishevelment. He stands, brushing off his pants, “how can I assist you?”

“By letting me take a look inside your home. I’ve heard rumors that you deal in items that are only bought in back rooms and I need to see if they’re true. I don’t have a warrant, and I’ll get one if I have to, but then I’ll have to bring other kinds of law enforcement with me who might, um, might....look, you’re important to Duck; I don’t want this to escalate any more than it has to.”

Indrid grins, waving him inside, “Say no more. I do believe there’s been a misunderstanding. Your mind, on account of your profession, went straight to bootlegging. I deal in something a bit different” He flips open a briefcase and gets the pleasure of watching Joseph Sten blush.

“It’s not the kind of art I’d sell if I had my choice, but I have a talent for rendering all manner of lewd acts on paper. Owners of bowling alleys and hunting clubs pay decently enough for them.”

“I, um, I see.” Joseph picks up one booklet, flipping through it, “I must admit these are more realistic than the ones I've encountered in the past.”

“I use models whenever possible in both these and my other work” he gestures to the non-explicit paintings on the wall, “in fact, you know two of my preferred muses.”

“Duck” Joseph’s thumb runs tenderly over the illustration.

“Indeed. And this one…” he holds up a second book, “is based on Barclay.”

“Good lord.”

“That’s the general consensus on that part of his body.” Indrid places both booklets safely in their spots, “does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes.” Joseph runs a hand over his hair, “very much. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Cold.”

“Of course. And by all means, call me Indrid. Should you ever be interested in modeling...” he let's Stern feel the full force of his appreciative gaze, "do let me know."

The agent leaves in more of a hurry than he arrived. Indrid closes the door, slumps against and says to the dust specks, “that was too close.”

He reiterates this point to Barclay in the evening, who agrees with him that, as much as Joseph means to him and Duck, when Indrid returns from this run they’ll talk with Mama about how to get the agent out of the Lodge and, ideally, the town. They finish their conversation right as three members of the Leeshon family arrive, electing to travel north along with their goods for some “official business.” Apparently, word of the The Moth as a skilled driver is spreading, the implications of which are keeping Indrid up at night.

He stoops and smiles for the men with menacing shapes under their coats, blows a final kiss to Barclay, and speeds off into the night.

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

“Is everything alright?” Joseph hovers over Duck’s shoulder, his eyes locked onto Barclay.

“‘Drid does these trips to sell his stuff, and he ain’t back yet. Ain’t called either of us, which is mighty strange. Usually he lets us know when he’s headin home.”

“And I tried the motel where he usually stays on his last night back down. They haven’t seen him.” Barclay wipes the same spot of table for the fiftieth time, “Duck’s truck is busted and Mama’s got the one we use for Lodge business, so we can’t go look for him ourselves.”

“We could take my car.” Joseph offers without hesitation, “if you know his usual route, we can at least rule out a wreck.”

Barclay shudders; he doesn’t want to think about Indrid, caged and lifeless in twisted metal. He wants to think about it so little that he does the most foolish thing possible; he decides to give a federal agent a guided tour of their bootlegging route.

Soon, they’re creeping along the winding backroad, Barclay navigating from the front seat while Duck bounces his leg in the back. The longer they drive, the more somber the expression from the man beside him.

“Indrid’s the Moth, isn’t he?” Joseph murmurs.

“Hate to say it Joe, but you’re so outta bounds you ain’t even in...the...game” he catches Barclay’s eyes in the mirror, “oh you gotta be fuckin kiddin me.”

“Wish I was” Barclay locks his hands in his lap, “Started about six months ago. Leeshon and his mob decided Kepler was a good spot to stage some of their smuggling. They went to the lodge first; Mama told ‘em hell no, told ‘em to get gone, and they threatened to shoot her then and there to burn the whole place and everyone in it. I stepped in, offered to do it. I was so fucking bad at the driving I almost got caught. Indrid offered to help to keep me safe and keep them from going after the Lodge.” He glances at Joseph, “we’re just trying to protect our family.”

“I don’t doubt it. But you haven’t exactly put me in an easy position. I had a hunch after I was in Indrid’s house; the faint smell of alcohol on certain bags, the regular trips along the exact same route. I just...I was hoping I was wrong.”

“You know damn well ‘Drid ain’t a threat to anyone.”

“He’s aiding the mob”

“To protect us--ohfuck” Barclay’s door is open before Joseph even stops the car. At the crossroads before them are two cars, each riddled with bullet holes. The one on the right, back half full of shattered bottles, is Indrid’s.

“No!” Barclay dodges the other bodies, Duck right behind him, and wrenches the driver-side door open. There’s bullets in the seat, but no body.

“Rival family, I can tell by the rings. They must have ambushed them.” Joseph stares down at one of the bodies by the second car.

“We gotta find him, he might still be, there-” Duck grabs Barclay’s arm, pointing towards the brush, “someone dragged themself that way.”

Duck leads the scramble through the foliage, following signs Barclay can’t see until they reach scuffed shoes on long legs.

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, c’mon sugar talk to me.” Duck is on his knees, guiding the unconscious man into his arms.

“He’s breathing.” Barclay runs his hands over Indrid’s body, looking for broken bones. Finds one on his left leg, making his boyfriend groan in pain.

“You’re gonna be okay, we’ll get you home.” There’s a clanking noise from the direction they came, “I like Joe an awful lot, but if we gotta steal his car I will.”

Indrid manages to smile with dry lips, “I tried so hard to get back. Hard to crawl on a broken leg after playing dead for as long as it took everyone who’d been shot to finish dying. I just...can we...I want to go home.”

“You clear a path, I’ll carry him.” Barclay scoops Indrid up, follows Duck back towards the car as he snaps and pushes at brush.

“Thank the lord.” Joseph opens the back door of the car, “here, he can lay down. We’ll take him to the doctor right away.”

Duck stays in the back, Indrid’s head in his lap, petting his hair and whispering to him as Joseph turns the car towards town.

“You realize I have to report the shoot out.”

Barclay never takes his eyes off Indrid, “Do what you have to. Just don’t expect a warm welcome back.”

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

“....no, Agent Hayes, there were no survivors of the shoot-out.”

“Any records on the cars?”

“Only one. The other didn’t have plates.” Joseph keeps his breathing even as his boss mulls over his report.

“Alright. I won’t send a second man down, but if this escalates I expect you to alert me at once.”

“Understood, sir.” He hangs up, relieved, and steps into the hall of the Lodge. There’s not much spring in his step, since he doesn’t dare show his face in the restaurant.

Then there’s a lot of spring as he’s yanked through a door. Before he can raise a fist, calloused hands cup his cheeks and a beard prickles his skin as Barclay pins him to the wall in a kiss.

“Did, did you hear the callmmpph” He holds tight to Barclays shoulders as the cook manhandles him towards bed.

“Yep, had Aubrey eavesdrop on you.” Duck grins from his spot on Indrid’s comfy sickbed, “you gonna tell us why you covered our asses?”

“Barclay may have to release him for that.” Indrid pats the space next to Duck and the cook let’s Joseph drop into it.

“Arresting Indrid would have put the whole Lodge in danger and done nothing to stop the mobs vying for power on this bootlegging route. It’s the better call to let people think you’re dead for a time and see if I can catch Leeshon as he’s sniffing around for a new driver. And, um, I, I couldn’t hurt you. Any of you. You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in years and I, I just want to help you protect the town.”

“Aww, knew you were soft deep-down, city boy.” Duck kisses his cheek.

“I never did get to thank you for your role in saving my life. Come here.” Indrid crooks his finger and Joseph leans in, expecting a kiss on the cheek. He gets one full on the lips, Indrid humming when he brushes their tongues together. He purrs when they part, “after all, if you’re staying in town, I intend to join my boyfriends in their admiration of you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Wonderful. Iin that case, perhaps you’ll model for me.”

“Only if you buy me dinner.”

“Hey, I had to get punched to get dinner.” Duck teases.

“Let me go get it started.” Barclay winks, “don’t get into too much trouble until I get back.”

[gloriainalbis]

Strangers

Part 1 - Losers (S1E1)

Nathan Young x Reader  Words: 4.4k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, drugs  Songs:  Strangers - The Kinks  Bad Reputation - Joan Jett 

“So you've been where I've just come From the land that brings losers on”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

--

    As bad days go, you’re having a pretty horrible one when you arrive at the Wertham Community Center. It’s the first of many to come, part of the court-mandated service that goes along with your ASBO. Your dad keeps telling you that you’re lucky the judge had been so lenient and should be grateful that he’s allowing you to stay with him and your stepmum again– even though you have no one to stay with and nowhere else to go. And he’s your dad. “In the future,” you tell him while getting out of the car, “I think I’ll walk.” 

     Striding through the frosted glass of the front doors, you continue on to the locker rooms to change into the orange jumpsuits you find waiting for you. You choose a locker on the far wall and dump your stuff there. You decide to leave your t-shirt on underneath, zipping the suit up most, but not all, of the way. Finished, you lean back to take a look at your designated companions for the 200 hours to be dispersed across the next few months. One girl has chosen her locker to be in front of the mirror. Her hair is short, curly, and pinned back on the side to form some cute bangs-like fringe. You notice an ankle monitor adorning her lower leg as she strips down to a pink lace pushup bra and panties and steps into her jumpsuit, rolling up the sleeves and bottom cuffs and adding a gold belt around her waist to complete the ensemble. The color of her earrings and bangle bracelets– both large, round, pink, and plastic– match her underwear. She steps back to take a look at herself and smiles. Another girl brushes her hair back into a high and tight ponytail. She looks curvier than the first girl, but just as confident, pairing smoky black eye makeup with shiny, pale pink lip gloss and gold hoop earrings. The guy who’d taken a locker near yours fishes a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips. He looks equal parts cute and odd, tall and lanky with a mop unruly, curly hair framing his face. He wears a red and black checkered shirt and an air of swaggering cockiness radiates from him with a pungency usually reserved for uncommonly offensive odors. He smirks at you slyly. The guy with the locker across from the two girls looks vaguely familiar to you. He has two gold chains, one with a cross, and a grey tank top. His jumpsuit is only zipped up halfway, with the arms tied around his waist. He looks remarkably fit, and, not having much of an affinity for sports, you wonder where you recognize him from. The last person you see in the locker room is shadowy and reserved. His hair is short and neatly combed and his jumpsuit is buttoned up all the way to the very last button. He holds a small, black camera phone in his hand and shifts his gaze between people nervously. As you start to file out, one last person stomps in front of you, looking you up and down as he nearly bowls you over. You grimace as he winks. The first thing you notice about him is the immaculate green flat-brimmed baseball cap. You suspect that this hat and others like it are a large part of his personality. Once you’re all together, a man introducing himself as your probation worker, Tony, leads you outside and has you line up against some railing as he gives what you believe is supposed to be a rousing speech. From left to right is Curtis, Gary, Nathan, you, Kelly, Alisha, and Simon. You would learn their names later, but for the purposes of clarity, we’ll start using them now. Tony paces before you, attempting to assume the macho, fear-inducing demeanor of a boot camp officer. “This is it,” he barks. “This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people, you can really make a difference to people’s lives. That’s what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you’re scum. You have an opportunity to show them they’re wrong.” He has the tone of someone who has given this speech before and is just barely holding onto their faith in its underlying message. The girl to your left, Kelly, looks mildly offended at the word “scum,” as if Tony had been speaking directly to her. “Yeah, but what if they’re right?” Nathan interrupts on your right. He looks around at the rest of you, “No offense, but I’m thinking some people are just born criminals.” You smile to yourself and try to hold back a chuckle as a look of anger flashes over suspected-douchebag-Gary’s eyes and he bursts out with “Are you looking to get stabbed?” “You see my point there?” Nathan asks, turning back to Tony. A phone rings and Alisha answers with a casual “Hey,” while twirling a curl between her manicured fingers. Tony tries to continue, but he’s becoming increasingly exasperated. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past-” “Doin’ my community service,” Alisha speaks to her phone. “Hey!” He tries and fails to catch her attention. “Boring as fuck,” she continues. It was getting harder not to laugh and you glance at Nathan out of the corner of your eye, amused at the part he had to play in the deterioration of Tony’s speech. “Excuse me!” He tries again. “Hello, I’m still talking here.” “What, I thought you’d finished?” She didn’t care, evidently. “You see my lips still moving, that means I’m still talking.” He tries to assert something akin to authority but clearly doesn’t realize how poorly that approach tends to work on rag-tag groups of rebellious young offenders. “Yeah, but you could have been yawning, or chewing,” Nathan points out facetiously in a drawling tone. Tony ignores him, but you are full-on laughing at this point. “End the call! Hang up!” He shouts at Alisha to no avail. “My probation worker,” she explains to the person on the other line. “You all right there, weird kid?” Nathan leans past you to point at Simon, who stood alone at the far end of your lineup. Tony fumed. “Don’t be disgusting. I’ll call you later.” She finally hangs up, looking over at Nathan, who was approaching Gary and making kissing noises at him. “I’ll rip out your throat and shit down your neck,” Gary snaps back. He looks amusingly short in comparison, you now realize. Curtis grimaces and leans away from the touchy ball of anger standing next to him. “I shouldn’t be here, man.” Kelly gapes at his arrogance as Gary starts to scuffle with Nathan, grabbing at his jumpsuit. “We need to work as a team here. Hey, that’s enough!” Tony takes a few steps forward. “Can I move to a different group? This isn’t going to work for me,” Curtis continues, even though Tony is clearly otherwise engaged. You lean back, nearly bumping into Kelly as she steps to Cutis’ indirect insults. “Um… What makes you think that you’re better than us?” “What is that accent?” Nathan comments, drawn out of his conflict by the way her “us” sounded a lot more like “oss” “Is that for real?” Curtis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What, are you tryna’ say something or yeah?” She speaks, the latter half her sentence mostly lost due to her lack of enunciation. “Its- you- that’s just a noise! Are we supposed to be able to understand her?” Nathan exclaims. You shake your head and raise your eyebrows at their audacity and Kelly’s incoherence. She sticks her hand out and flips him off, “Do you understand that?” Things escalate again when Nathan puts an arm around a violently unwilling Gary who responds by grabbing him and preparing to punch. “Hey, pack it in!” Tony lunges forward to separate them “It’s love, man!” Nathan yells. You double over, stepping back to get out of the way. Kelly meets your gaze and smirks at the growing scene before you. Alisha laughs, a high-pitched giggle. Tony stood between them now, pulling Gary further and further away from Nathan, who assumed a boxer’s stance and put up his fists comically. “Do it man! Do it! You’re a prick, man, look at you!” Gary calls, trying to push past Tony. “What the fuck are they doin’?” You say to everyone behind you as Kelly looks between you and Alisha. Simon looks like he’d rather be elsewhere, as does Curtis, but for different reasons. Nathan had taken to punch the air, which only served to further aggravate Gary. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, bruv! He’s takin’ the piss, come here!” Cue the intro music. --     Tony eventually diffuses the conflict between Nathan and Gary and finally leads everyone to some benches by the lake, which you are told to paint white. Paint drips everywhere, from your shoes to the concrete sidewalk, but you hardly care. How different is this from the reason you were here in the first place? You were reprimanded for painting on someone else’s property and were told to instead paint on someone else’s property to pay for it, how is that supposed to work? The only difference is that the first time had been art, and this was largely pointless. They wanted to cover up the graffiti on these benches, but the new paint job would only make future acts of vandalism easier to see. You did it anyway, though, happy to peel off with Nathan and Kelly as Curtis and Alisha and Simon and Gary pair off to the benches on either side of you. You watch as Gary leans down to pick up more paint on his brush, his hat brushing dangerously close to the fresh paint before it finally touches, leaving a stark white smear on the brim. You poke Nathan’s shoulder and point as Gary notices, ripping off his hat in horror and stomping off in a huff, kicking a bucket of paint into the lake and leaving behind a violent burst of white. “Oh, man! There’s paint on my cap, this is bullshit!” “Ooh!” Alisha whistles as he walks past. Everyone turns and stares as he struggles with a shopping cart that’s in his way, kicking it at first before trying and failing to shove it into the lake as well when it simply falls in front of him, still blocking the path. “I know you,” you hear Alisha say to Curtis, perking up due to your own curiosity. “No, you don’t,” he brushes her off. “Yes, I do,” She continues, unphased. “You’re that runner guy. You screwed up big time.” That’s it. You’d seen him years ago at your secondary school’s track meets and races, and later in the news for his accomplishments and subsequent arrest. “You noticed, yeah? Thanks for reminding me.” He grew increasingly annoyed, and it was abundantly clear. Overhearing, Nathan glances up at Kelly and tries to strike up a conversation, “So I’m guessing shoplifting?” She ignores him. “No?” He was about to speak again when she cuts him off, “Don’t act like you know me, ‘cuz you don’t.” “I’m just makin’ conversation!” He motions to you and Kelly, “This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swapping tips. Brainstorming!” He looks at you to continue, but you stay silent, also curious about Kelly’s infraction. You shrug and he looks back at her. “Come on, what did you do?” “This girl called me a slag so I just got into a fight,” she admits, slapping her paintbrush to the bench in annoyance. “Was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?” He jokes. “No, it was at Argos.” “Argos?” you ask, finding the store an odd place to get into fights. “You know what you should’ve done? You should have got one of them little pens and jabbed it in her eye.” He was referring to the pens for filling out the catalog cards at Argos and you smirk at the image, but Kelly just stares at him incredulously. It’s an odd thing to say to someone you barely knew. He turns to look at you, “And you? I need to know what we’re workin’ with here.” “Ah…” You glance between Nathan and Kelly before continuing, “Graffiti, mostly, and throwing a party that bugged my neighbors, breaking the peace.” You had broken the law, technically, but it was nothing compared to punching someone and getting into a fight in the middle of Argos. He raises his eyebrows curiously, “Is there a story behind it or was it just mindless vandalism?” “It was on the wall of my apartment, my landlord saw it when he went to break up a party that my friends were throwing and he said he’d report me.” “Oh, what a wanker!” Nathan exclaims. “The worst part is I lost the apartment and now I’ve gotta live with my dad and stepmum again and it’s a living nightmare.” You don’t want to exaggerate or sound like too much of a cliche, but your stepmother is one of the meanest people you have ever encountered. You could understand it to some extent, as she has two young children and you aren’t the greatest of influences. You call these siblings stepfuck and stepcunt respectively, case in point. “Well, I can sympathize with that. But at least yours is a stepmum, they’re, like, inherently kinda hot, amirite?” You glare at him and begin to understand some of Kelly’s annoyance. He redirects, turning his attention to Simon, who is now painting his bench all alone after Gary’s outburst. “What about you, weird kid? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty-sniffer.” He holds his hands up beside his face, mocking a disgusting sniff of some invisible panties. “I’m not a panty-sniffer,” he responds. “I’m not a pervert.” He tries to return to painting the bench, but Nathan begins walking towards him, pretending to jack off with his paintbrush still in his hand, grunting disgustingly. You sigh and roll your eyes, glancing at Kelly. He could be funny, sure, but you were quickly learning about his tendency to take things too far. Kelly shrugs at you. “I tried to burn someone’s house down,” Simon blurts out to get Nathan to stop. Everyone who’d heard snapped to attention, as arson seems considerably more serious than vandalism or a few punches. “Fire?” Nathan laughs and walks back. Kelly looks up at him, “What did you do?” You were still curious about the fire and arson, but you let the conversation move on regardless. “Me? I was done for eatin’ some pick ‘n’ mix.” “Yeah, right,” you scoff. “Bollocks,” Kelly agrees. “What is goin’ on with this weather,” Nathan muses, distracted, as thunder rolls down from overhead and you quickly noticed the growing dark storm clouds in the sky just across the lake. Huh, odd. That hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. “How did that happen?” you hear behind you, looking around to see Tony returning, an angry look instantly plastered to his face. He points to the overturned paint can, part of Gary’s carnage, and holds his arms up in exasperation. “I mean, you’ve been here five minutes. It’s painting benches. How’d you screw that up? You tell me, because I’ve got no idea.” From out of nowhere, a giant white ball of something smashes down on the car behind Tony, completely caving in the roof and sending the car alarm blaring. Shocked, you jump back and duck amid the various screams and cries of “What the hell was that?” and “Oh, Jesus!” Nathan’s smug grin immediately falls and transforms into fear and wonderment. Alisha shrieks, crying out in a warbling tone, “What’s goin’ on?” Tony turns around slowly in disbelief and gasps, “That’s my car!” “Oh, fuck,” you mutter under your breath. But Nathan isn’t taking it as seriously. “Classic,” he chuckles, thinking it to be some sort of prank. But then another thing falls from the sky into the lake behind you, whizzing past your heads and spraying you, Nathan, and Kelly in an onslaught of lake-water. “Okay, so I’m a little bit freaked out!” he admits. “No fucking shit!” you agree. “What is that?” Alisha asks, turning your attention to the storm Nathan had pointed out just moments ago. It had grown, somehow, turning dark and dangerous as it travels at an unnervingly fast pace towards your group. Simon holds his phone up to film the storm and its effects just as another ball crashes into the dumpster beside him, knocking over the heavy, metal container and spewing ice at him as he ducks and runs from it. More and more ice falls from the sky, huge blocks larger than your head, and you don’t want to think of what could happen if one of them hit you. “Right, let’s get everyone inside,” Tony instructs as more and more of them fall all around you. “Move! Move! Run!” You sprint back to the community center at top speed, holding your head as ice shards rain down on you, pelting and stinging your face and arms. Your heart practically beats out of your chest. One ball of ice pummels into the sidewalk in front of you, breaking a concrete tile. Another falls into a phonebooth, and the glass shatters to the ground around your feet. The storm seems to get thicker as you near the center, and your hair is plastered to your face from the mixture of sweat and water that you were drenched in. You could barely hear Tony yell “Keep going!” over the crashes and booms that fill your ears as you run for your life. Curtis reaches the door first, pulling on the handles and banging on the glass before stepping back and yelling over the din to Tony, “It’s locked! Open it!” Tony groans, “Come on…” and fumbles with the keys. You throw yourself against the wall, as far away as possible from the mega hail storm, and scream, “Just fuckin’ unlock it!” “What is happening?” Kelly shrieks as another massive ball of ice falls onto the pavement beside her. “Open the door, come on!” Nathan yells as Tony grows increasingly frustrated. “I’m finding the right key!” he bellows back “Open the door!” Curtis yells again, and Alisha agreed. “Open the fucking door!” Tony whips around in a burst of anger, “Don’t speak to me like that!” You were about to berate him for his poor priorities when a bright white burst of cold lightning cracks in front of you and sends you flying backward in a chorus of screams. Time slows as you fly through the air and the electricity transforms from a chilling shock to a burning flare, searing and snaking through you as you soar and tumble backward onto the hard pavement. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, from which groans and cries of pain follow. A few remaining snowballs hit the ground around you, but the storm appears to have passed. “I feel really weird,” you hear Kelly say. Your vision is still black, which has you worried until you realize it’s only because your eyes are still closed. You open them and sit up, rubbing the back of your head, which is still screaming in pain. “That’ll be the lightning,” Curtis says to try and explain what just happened. “We should be dead,” Simon points out. “Well, that’s comforting,” you snap back. “A little reassurance might be nice, you know,” Nathan agrees, instead directing his comment to Tony, who is sprawled before the door of the center and has just started to sit up. “‘You’re fine!’ ‘Looking good!’” he elaborates. “Wanker…” Tony groans, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Did he just call me a wanker?” Nathan asks, indignantly glancing at you and everyone else. He snaps his fingers at Tony, “Hey? Hello?” You see a quick look of anger flash across Tony’s face before he grumbles, “Is everyone alright?” “We could have died, you dick,” Alisha adds. “Are you alright?” Kelly asks tentatively as Tony shakes his head and coughs out a growl. “You’re actin’ like a freak.” He ignores her, “Maybe we should call it a day.” --     Tony finally manages to unlock the door, and you return to the locker rooms to gather your things. You feel like you should be annoyed, leaving early only means you’ll have to spend another day here, but you are too exhausted to feel anything. That was probably the closest you’d ever been to death. You can still feel your heart beating, a deep, steady drumbeat, and your lungs ache from the running and adrenaline. Beside you, Nathan closes his locker and leans against it before turning to you, “Do you think we’ll stick together now, bonded by our shared experiences?” “Dunno. I’d rather spend as little time here as possible,” you explain, closing your locker and stepping away to put on your hoodie. “Oh, you’re one of those types, are you?” Nathan smiles. “What type?” You glare at him. “The I’m-too-cool-for-this type.” “No, that’s Curtis,” you quip, knowing that he’d already left the room. “I just happen to not like community service.” Or any of these morons, all the other girls are total slags. “Hey!” Kelly snaps, swinging around to glare at you suddenly. “Oookay?” You turn away awkwardly and leave, you can’t imagine anything you’d said having offended her. Maybe she just really loves community service or something, but that is decidedly not the impression you’ve gotten from her so far. You walk out to the waiting area by the vending machines, where you find Curtis and Simon standing around in heavy silence. Nathan follows after you moments later. “Do we just go, then?” Curtis asks, clearly annoyed. “Where’s the probation worker?” “I think there’s something wrong with him,” Simon speaks up. “It’s like he was having a spasm.” “He was probably just faking it, trying to get some compensation. Cheap bastard,” Nathan scoffs. “I don’t think he was faking it,” Simon insists, looking back down at his phone. “And you know all about being… mental.” Nathan takes a few steps forward as he talks, leering at Simon and lowering his voice. Then he pretends to convulse and yells “Wanker!” You punch him in the shoulder. “Ow, what the hell was that for?” He sticks his head out at you almost comically. You stick your head out back at him. “Stop being such a prick, he might have a point.” Alisha walks in, already looking bored. “Are we waiting for something?” “Probation worker,” Curtis explains. She scrunches up her face in disgust. “I’m not hanging around for that dickhead.” She turns on her heel and leaves, which everyone else seems to take as their cue to leave as well. You can’t be bothered to be the only one waiting around, so you follow suit. Once outside, everyone pretty much goes their separate ways. Nathan, however, trots after you. “What’re you doin’?” You ask. “Thought you looked a little lonely, and, well, I’d like to recommend my own company as recompense.” He motions to himself like he’s all that, which honestly has you snorting to hold back your laughter. “You can’t be serious.” You raise your eyebrows. “Fine, I happen to live along this way, alright? I’m Nathan, by the way.” “Y/n.” You smile at him. “And I’ll have you know that to date, I haven’t had a single complaint.” He says it like you should be impressed or something. “Can’t have complaints if you haven’t been with anybody,” you joke, smirking. His jaw drops in mock surprise, “Oy! I have, too!” He keeps trying to impress upon you the depth of his sexual prowess, offering many stories as proof, all of which have you in stitches. He peels off when you were about halfway home. You say your goodbyes and wave as he walks away, grateful for the company. A few houses down from your own, though, you stop walking, contemplating what to do next. Home doesn’t seem like a particularly fun place to be right now, but it’s not like you have anywhere else to go. It’s still the early afternoon, so it would probably be only your stepmum at home, with your dad at work and your step siblings at school. It’s practically a worst-case scenario, as you doubt she would believe that they let you go early. You wish this day had gone differently. As you’re musing and trying to work up the courage to walk the thirty or so meters left to your front door, the skies begin to darken. You look up to see if a cloud had rolled in overhead, not exactly trusting the weather as of late, but as soon as you do so, it disappears and the sky goes back to normal. You think nothing of it, which is probably a poor choice on your part, but you are too burned out to care. You finally reach the front door, closing it gingerly behind you, but to no avail. “Y/n? Is that you?” You hear from the other room. “Yup.” You stand in the doorway to the kitchen, knowing you need to address this, but desperately wanting to leave. “They let us go early today.” She eyes you quizzically, “Really?” Now here’s the thing, the truth isn’t even remotely believable– There was a freak hail storm and everyone in our group got hit by lightning or something but now we’re all okay and our probation officer did too, he let us go early and then disappeared– so you have to lie. “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the first day. They mostly showed us the ropes, got us started on something, and then let us go.” You wait, holding your breath. “Oh.” She looks disappointed. “I thought you’d be out today.” “Yeah, well I did, too,” you mumble as you walk away, not really caring whether or not she heard. “What’d you say?!” she calls after you. “Nothing!” you yell back as you walk as quickly as possible to your room. Once inside, you sigh and collapse onto your bed. You feel like a teenager again and it’s horrible, being forced to be somewhere where you’re treated like immature crap every day, living at home again, constantly having a row with your stepmum. You hope, but doubt, that the next day will be better.

[avversiera-writes]

try again; in everyday we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Now

Summary: some moral teetering here and there; tobi and you as his wife switch attitudes, as you realize not everything is what it cracks out to be

Word count: ~3k

available on AO3.

Chapter 1 - Now | Chapter 2 - Then, part 1 | Chapter 2 - Then, part 2 |

When you finally come to, you feel an IV drip inserted into your hand. A heavy hand is resting on your arm, and it lifts off when you turn your head to the side. Tobirama stares at you, neither angry or placating, and once you get a good look at his face, you realize that he is quite sad. There is no sound in the background, but the desire to fill in the silence is strong. For once, you have run out of words. 

  “You didn’t want to let me know.” Tobirama states after a long time. “Do you think I would not find out?” 

  You bite your lip, just in case you say something wrong. 

  “Do you not trust me?” Tobirama continues, and his tone becomes a little scalding. “Why would you want to keep this from me? I am the Hokage.” 

“Tobirama,” you say. 

  Tobirama looks away, and he takes a deep breath. “You have to be okay.” 

  “I am okay,” you tell him what he has to believe. “I really am. All right?” You meet his eyes. 

Tobirama looks at you coolly, and he puts a hand on your forehead. “Rest, and I am not asking.” 

  You take his hand from your forehead, and plant a kiss on his knuckles. Tobirama squeezes your hand and then nods at you, and he turns to exit the hospital room. You close your eyes again, but your mind replays the memories you would rather not revisit. You remember the pain, the way you felt like you were going to die. You remember how beaten and bruised Tobirama was when he found you, how close he was to losing his life, but he still found you and fought for you and for the child that you have lost. 

  You were going to be okay, but the simplest things are often quick to trigger your emotions. You do not want to go back to the days where you can barely step out of the bedroom without having a breakdown. 

  No, you have to be strong. You have to make it stop. 

You swing your legs to the side of the bed and take a deep breath. There is one way to make it all stop. You just have to eliminate the root of it all. 

//

After being enlisted by Mito to search for Hashirama, Tobirama finds himself wandering through the dark woods that are just outside of Konoha’s walls. At this hour of the night, the trees are not just trees–they are alive, they talk and they stand tall and eerie, covering the ground with their own world. The cold night breeze blows through, and the branches above him sway, and the shadows on the forest floor created by the wane moonlight begin to dance. 

  Tobirama senses that he is getting farther and farther away from Konoha and not even closer to his brother, even though he knows that he is somewhere out here. Well, as of this moment, his presence seems to be everywhere. 

  The air is not crisp, despite its chilliness. It feels tangy, and it almost makes Tobirama dizzy. Hashirama’s power here is so dense, so overpowering. The trees are literally weeping from it. The ground trembles from it, with the rocks rolling around and skittering, and the roots of the trees rearranging underground, restless. Probably like his brother.  

  “Brother?” Tobirama calls, just in case. He hates how small his voice sounds, how human . 

“Tobirama,” Hashirama suddenly appears beside him, and Tobirama whirls to his brother. 

  Hashirama plants a hand on his shoulder and a shiver runs through Tobirama’s spine. 

  “What–” Tobirama breathes out. His brother feels different. He feels like a part of something bigger, like this forest. 

  “You’re out late, shouldn’t you be home?” Hashirama asks, and Tobirama notes how light and burden free he sounds. 

  “Shouldn’t you?” 

Hashirama smiles and he pats the back of Tobirama’s neck. “I am home, brother.” 

  “Your wife and children need you at home, elder brother,” Tobirama searches his brother’s face. 

  “I need you,” Tobirama whispers, afraid of what Hashirama will say this time. He does not want to be rejected by his own brother. The last of his siblings. 

Hashirama looks to the sky, clear and dark, with countless stars glittering over the world like diamonds. The moon is halved, luminous yet it looks incomplete. 

“It’s calling me out,” Hashirama says, his voice sounding far away. 

  Tobirama’s heart hurts, because he does not know what is ailing Hashirama. He wishes he can fix this. He takes his brother by the arm and he starts to drag him back towards the village. “We are going home.” 

  “Do you not hear them?” 

  “Hear what?” Tobirama snaps. He needs to get his brother away from here. 

He hurries, not caring if Hashirama is probably tripping over his own feet. They pass the familiar landmarks that lead to Konoha, and finally, they arrive just outside the walls. 

  “The trees, brother,” Hashirama finally replies. “The trees are alive. Here, there. Everywhere.” 

//

You sneak into the underground prison where Miura Kimiko is currently detained. Alone in the dingy hallway, you detect the scent of mold, and the light on the ceiling crackles in a green-ish dim light. You brandish your sword, and it hangs by your side, waiting and thirsting for the next cut for blood. You grip the hilt, and you slice at the air to prepare yourself. 

  You stop in your tracks as a shallow laugh echoes ahead. 

  All the fight in your drains away, and you slink to the nearest wall. Your sword drops to the floor with a clang and you flinch from the noise. Immediately, you swoop down to grab it and you let out a shaky breath. 

  You do not like this. You know that you are acting irrational. Even if you do what you have to do here, there will still be the pain and the guilt left behind. 

“Come back for a second attempt, m’lady?” You hear Kimiko rasp. She chuckles, sounding like rusty metals rubbing against each other, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

  You let out a deep breath, trying to will away the black spots in your vision. 

Then, without thinking anymore, you march up right outside her cell and wield your sword into a thrusting position. 

  “Beautiful, merciful and graceful, wife of Senju Tobirama,” Kimiko drawls. “That’s what you’re known for, right? But we both know deep inside, you are just as twisted as your degenerate husband.”

  You swallow, and you make out her frail silhouette in the darkness. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Suddenly, Kimiko slams herself into the metal rails of the cell and you step back from surprise. 

  “Don’t I?” Kimiko almost screeches. “Why don’t you just die and see what I mean?” 

Her eyes stare you down, unhinged. Her hair is everywhere, matted and dishevelled. Her fingers on the rails look like finger bones. 

  “Why won’t you just die?!” Kimiko shouts and she bangs at the cell bars. Then, she murmurs under her breath, “He will bring you back anyway.” Her arm juts out and she grabs on to the front of your collar. “While I will be alone!”

  “Why did you do it?” You demand, leaning your face away from her. You finally gather up enough bravado to face her. You narrow your eyes at her words, unsure of what she means. Of course, you know that Tobirama will do everything he can to save you. He has proven it time after time again. 

Kimiko chuckles darkly, and you take your sword and place it next to her neck. 

  “Finish the job then,” Kimiko sighs. “See how your husband will bend the rules because family is always the exception for him. He doesn’t care about us!” 

  “You’re wrong!” You snap angrily. “He has done everything for this village. He has given his life for it every single day, and you cannot even begin to comprehend what the scope of his job is.”

  “He is a hypocrite! You, him, and the rest of your damn Senju clan!” Kimiko glowers at you. “You and your shinobi ways. There is always some war to fight. Peace was never an option as long as you live!” 

You grit your teeth, feeling so vindictive at the audacity of assuming that your husband does not care about the village and its people. He cares so much that it is painful to watch him give his all, every single day in that damn office and his damn Hokage hat.

  “How dare you?” You threaten. “You try to kill me, and have succeeded on killing my child–”

  “You killed my child!” Kimiko screams. “Our Hokage, who is supposed to be our protector, killed my child!” 

  “That is part of being a shinobi,” you bite back. 

“You can only say that because you are not out there, risking your life!” 

“Why me?!” You yell above her voice. Tears begin to stream from your eyes.

  Kimiko’s hand withdraws from clutching your collar, and her shoulders slump down. “I do not know,” she says, hushed. 

  A moment of silence passed, and the sheer rage you feel overwhelms your logic. All this pain, and for naught. You have done this a thousand times, have taken lives without much of a thought, that this should not be much of a chore. 

  “Your husband dwells in the darkness, my lady, and in the shadows, he plays god with the dead,” Kimiko whispers. “He could just bring her back.”

  “What did you say?” You demand, her words passing over your ears. War cries into your ears, drowning out every voice.

  Kimiko’s body shakes as she laughs, and the sight is horrendous. You want to stop it. It sounds mocking to you.

“Do it, wife of the Hokage! Do it!” 

  Your hand shakes, and you wind your arm to strike at her neck, wanting to make yourself to really do it, to go through with this once and for all, when a hard grip stops your arm and suddenly, the world bends around you, swirling into hues of black and blue. When the world comes to, you fall to your hands, and you hear your sword drop with a thud. Your vision clears, and you see Tobirama’s long legs in front of you. 

Your hands clenched into a fist, gathering the dirt into your palms. 

  “Why?” You say in a low voice. 

  “Because if you do kill her, I would have to act as your Hokage and not as your husband,” Tobirama snaps in a hard voice. "Do not act unreasonably, like what you are doing right now."

  “I don’t need my husband, I need the Hokage to punish her,” you lash out. 

Tobirama grabs you by the arms and forcefully stands you up. He looks angry. “I am punishing her. In accordance with the laws.” 

  “The laws you and your brother constituted!” You push him away from you and you start to cry uncontrollably. 

Tobirama takes a deep breath, and he clenches his fists. “If you want to kill someone, then kill me, as I am the one who withdrew you from that mission that took your students’ lives. At least, dying by your hand, I know that justice is served. There is no better way to go.” 

Your tears fall down your face, and down to your chest. You look at him, and despite all the resentment you feel, you are able to process what he is not showing you.

  You shake your head, and you face the village before you. He has taken you on the top of a hill that is opposite the Hokage monument, and from here, you can see what Tobirama has built. How beautiful it looks from above.

"I would, but you will never fight back," you cringe at the way you sob your words out. 

Tobirama stays silent, but you feel how heavy his heart is, and his frustration and helplessness is rolling out in waves. You are supposed to be the one supporting and helping him, but you feel so weak and out of place, like time just stopped for you and no matter how much you try to move forward, you are put back into your place.

You close your eyes, and you hear Kimiko's words replaying back into your mind, now that you are starting to calm down. 

  You glance at your husband, who is staring lasers at the ground.

  You clutch your arms with your hands and you step closer to him. 

Tobirama looks up and you sense anguish beneath his eyes. The both of you had lost a lot. Your eyes meet his, and you see him struggling to put his walls up. 

"Let’s get you home," Tobirama curtly says, and he gestures down the path.

  You step forward and take one more glance at his face. He cannot seem to meet your eyes again, the more your stare lingers.

Your husband dwells in the darkness...and in the shadows, he plays god with the dead.

Your hand juts out to take his and Tobirama flinches. His hand is very cold. 

You look at your joined hands and you exhale slowly. “I am sorry.” 

  Tobirama looks shocked at your words. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You nod glumly, and Tobirama laces his fingers with yours. “I wasn’t going to kill her. I don’t think I can. I tried to. I wanted to.” 

  Tobirama tugs your hand and you end up even closer to him. There are tiny steps to get closer, and he is running through them all at once. 

“I know,” Tobirama whispers. He sounds relieved. 

“I’m not really as good as people let me out to be, hm?” You tell him sadly. “I have been feeling so numb and distant for all this time. I wasn’t thinking. I have failed you.” 

  “You will never fail me,” Tobirama reassures, and his large palm covers the side of your face. “Please do not say that.” 

His thumb catches a tear, and he slowly pulls you into his embrace. He rests his chin on top of your head, and he starts to berate you. “I told you to rest, and because you did not heed my advice, you are acting irrationally. Do not get out of bed tomorrow. I will send Biwako to check on you.” 

  You roll your eyes, despite the grimness of the situation. 

  “Focus on getting well,” Tobirama continues on, but the usual bite in his voice is gone. “ I need you to be well.” 

You hear the plea in his voice, the desperation that he refuses to show but it bleeds out in various ways. He does not say please or beg, but you notice that he is not imposing. You almost lost your mind today, and acted on an impulse that you can never come back from. You forget for a moment that the ground you stand on is solid, and that you have your values that you hold close to your heart. You realize that you will lose yourself to that darkness, but you are not the only one losing here either. There is Tobirama, who teeters between the gray area of black and white, who is capable of many heinous things as long as they are justified, but he still looks to you for some understanding and depends on you. 

The revelation reels you in. You always refused to acknowledge it, but you have always known that you had a penchant for understanding even the most derelict person. Even Kimiko. You understand her too well, but this time, you had let your anger and resentment control you. You understand that she is hurt, and because of that, you want to hurt her back. However, if you continue on this path, you are no better than the enemy shinobi out there. You are no better than her. 

  Sometimes, it is hard to be aware, and to possess a conscience that speaks loud and clear. Sometimes, it is hard to follow a steady moral compass. 

You want her atonement, as you simply cannot let go what she has done to you, but that cannot happen if she dies. Merciful as people, as Tobirama, makes you out to be, you are also human. 

  Once, everything was so simple. You lived by the ways of shinobi. You fought as one. Now, things have changed. You cannot have the same narrow view anymore, despite wanting–no, forcing yourself to see through a gilded scope. There will always be the bad things, but you need to acknowledge that, and learn and be better because you are needed. 

  You remember Madara’s words to you, of your husband setting himself up to fail, and you revitalize the drive to ensure that he will not. 

  Not in this lifetime, if you can help it. 

To be continued...

Chapter 4 - Then >>

[risottoneroo]

Between His Fingers, Chapter Two

a/n: so it looks like i’ll be updating weekly! this one is longer, and i hope u guys like it!

tags: @kakyoins-bang​ @i-mean-i--guess​ @spaceeballs​ @casketjuice​

warnings: minors in a strip club, reader is disguised as a cocktail waitress, some very mild sexual content, mentions of Dio grooming(?) reader, stand fights, canon typical violence

chapter one

one year later

“Find the Joestars, huh?” You muttered under your breath. “Seems easy.”

You looked around the Saudi Arabian strip club you were currently disguised as a cocktail waitress for. The disguise was a leather tube dress, accentuating your curves and showing a little window between your tits. It didn’t disguise the scars high on your back, covering your shoulders in a crude impression of wings. Your Stand, in materializing, had seared its wings onto your back forever. Your scars didn’t bother you. 

You were still more than pretty, and decidedly more confident. In just one year, you’d gotten very good at seduction and deception. Dio was a good teacher. You’d practiced in clubs just like this, finding men and making them buy you pretty things, before leaving without so much as a phone number. You were well known in Cairo for this trick.  Dio knew how to get his way, and now, so did you. He’d been reluctant to let you leave his mansion, but it was necessary to get rid of the Joestars. 

He didn’t like you smoking, and only let you do it in the bars you frequented to make money off stupid men. Your loyalty to Dio was such that you were even trying to stop that habit, but in this dark, hazy club, it was hard to not want a fucking cigarette. You took a deep breath and scanned the crowd.

Dio had said they’d be the tallest and worst dressed people there. You held back a snort. Like Dio had room to pass judgement on who was worst dressed. Regardless, the group you were focused on was definitely the tallest. Worst dressed? Debatable. Highly so. It wasn’t well lit in here, and they were a few yards away, but the biggest one was wearing some kind of school uniform. It looked tight, but he also looked very good in it. He looked bored, a cigarette dangling from his lips and surrounding them in smoke. Fuck. 

The next one was a redhead, with long, messy hair. His outfit was far from messy, being a much tidier school uniform. He looked uptight, but he was still pretty cute. He looked as if he was trying to communicate to the other man there that he didn’t want to be there. It was too loud for you to hear anything, the bass pounding in your chest. 

The last man was definitely the worst dressed. Even compared to Dio. A black shirt with one strap, slicked up hair, and white pants with boots? Wow. There was a lot of bad taste in that package. He looked drunk to top it off, and was laughing at the redhead. 

You started to make your way over. As you came closer, their conversation became audible over the bass. 

“Come on, Kakyoin, lighten up! Have a little fun!”

“We shouldn’t be here. It’s too public. Especially with the blood bond, Dio definitely tracked us here.”

You stifled a laugh, coming up to sit on their table. You put on a bubbly, airheaded front and said, “Who’s Dio, handsome?”

The redhead glowered. “Nobody.”

The biggest one snorted and flicked his cigarette ash behind the seat. You smiled charmingly. “Well, can I get you any drinks, boys?”

The one with slicked up hair nodded, already staring at your legs. The redhead seemed to be trying not to look at your tits, but failing miserably. He was blushing madly. The tall, dark haired one was impassive. He glanced you up and down. “A beer for me. I don’t care what kind. The drooling one gets water. Eh! Polnareff!”

The worst dressed of the bunch managed to tear himself away from your legs and look at the tall one. “Oui, JoJo?”

“Jojo” sighed and pulled his hat over his eyes. “Yare yare daze.”

You perked up. “Are you Japanese?”

He nodded. The redhead nodded with him, and said, “We both are. Japanese students.”

Time to gush. You gasped. “That’s so cool! What’s your names?”

The redhead glanced at his friends and smiled at you. He seemed to be warming up to you, which was good. “I’m Noriaki Kakyoin, that’s Jotaro Kujo, and the drunk one over there is Jean Pierre Polnareff.”

You had identified them from Dio’s descriptions by now, but he was cute. Kujo was the one with the most dangerous Stand, though they were all very powerful, and Kakyoin and Polnareff were both deserters from Dio. That couldn’t stand.

 You opened your mouth to say something else, and Jotaro got tired of it. “Eh, woman. Get us our drinks already.”

You smiled and stood up, walking over to him and straddling his lap. He averted his eyes, grumbling. Polnareff whooped. “Get it, Jojo!”

Kakyoin chuckled at him. Your smile turned to a smirk. “Now, is that any way to speak…”

You ground down on his lap and whispered in his ear, “To a fellow Stand user?”

Jotaro stiffened against you, becoming a wall of flexed muscle. His hands closed on your neck, and you smirked. “First mistake, Kujo… My Stand isn’t limited by me.”

A wing flicked out from your back. It threw Kakyoin and Polnareff against the wall. Kakyoin hit with a grunt and crumpled, and Polnareff went limp on impact. Your Stand’s hands materialized around Jotaro’s throat, burning through his skin. Its other pair of arms materialized around his wrists, searing skin and burning into his flesh. He cried out, not expecting the heat of your Stand. His grip slackened, and you pushed off him and jumped a few yards away. The music had stopped and people were fleeing the club at the first sign of trouble. You smirked. “You might be fast, but nothing can stop the holy light of my Stand, Angel of Judgement. It suggests the Judgement card in the tarot deck, and it will not rule in your favor, Kujo. My name is Y/N. You’d better remember that when you’re begging for mercy.”

His hand was on his neck, feeling the burns. “How is your Stand tangible, woman?”

You said, “It’s not. My Stand has harnessed ultraviolet light and radiation. It radiates the light of Heaven, and that light is still intangible, even if it sears your flesh, Kujo.”

It materialized behind you, and Jotaro squinted. It didn’t make any sense. It was almost as humanoid as Star Platinum, but much more graceful and angelic in appearance. It… No. She had four arms, three heads, and uncountable wings, pinwheeling around it like a halo. Her body was covered in countless eyes, opening, closing, blinking, glowing. It shone with an unimaginable radiance, lighting up the dingy club and setting the tables close to it aflame. Staring at it was giving him a headache. He shook his head and looked away. The moment it saw him turn away, it attacked. Your Stand grabbed his jaw and slammed him into the wall. He slumped to the floor, hand shaped burns littered on his body and his head bleeding onto the floor. You licked your lips. “Damn, Kujo. I’d hoped for more. Where’s that famous Stand of yours?”

He looked up and coughed. “As the old man says, ‘The moment an enemy starts to gloat about victory, they have already lost.’ Where is my Stand, you ask? Behind you, bitch.”

You gasped and whipped your Stand around, but Star Platinum was already there. Its fist crashed into your Stand’s jaw, and your vision went black.

You woke up in a hotel bed, with warm sheets over you. You sighed and stretched before remembering what had happened last night. Shit. Where were you? You got up and looked around.  It was a hotel room with two large beds, one of which was made neatly and one of which you had just gotten out of. You heard something faintly. Muffled conversation was happening outside. You crept to the door to listen. The redheaded one was talking. Kakyoin? Yeah. “You removed it?”

Jotaro spoke. “Of course I did.”

Kakyoin breathed a sigh. “Good. She’s no longer a threat?”

Jotaro must have shrugged. Kakyoin spoke again. “Her name again?”

Jotaro huffed an irritated breath. “Y/N. I told you. She told you. Yare yare daze...”

Kakyoin must have nodded.

You noticed you felt different, and immediately touched your forehead. No flesh bud, only a bandage. You sighed, then noticed you were in a long shirt, your bra, and underwear. You shrieked. Someone had seen you naked. Your scream brought in the two inhabitants of the room, Jotaro and Kakyoin. Kakyoin looked frazzled. “What’s wrong?”

You stood up. Oh. Fuck, they were tall. Standing tall, you reached Kakyoin’s shoulder, and Jotaro was at least half a foot taller than him. 

It didn’t matter. You mustered up your courage. “Where are my clothes?”

Kakyoin glared at Jotaro, who looked even more stoic. “I told you she wouldn’t be happy about us undressing her.”

Jotaro glanced at you, pulling his hat down. “Yare yare. We thought you’d be more comfortable like this.”

You glared at him. “Where are my clothes?”

Kakyoin pointed to the armoire. You pulled out your clothes and your bag, which you supposed someone else had grabbed. You went into the bathroom, feeling considerably irritated. You pulled on a pair of shorts, and a tank top from your bag. You stared in the mirror. You looked decent, except for the bruise on your jaw from Jotaro. 

Fuck, you wanted a cigarette. You took a deep breath. Stay calm. 

You went back out, carrying your bag and the shirt they’d dressed you in. “Whoever owns this shirt can have it back.”

Jotaro reached and took it. You shook your head and chuckled a bit. Kakyoin looked confused. “What’s funny?”

You smiled. “You two are hopeless with women, huh?”

Kakyoin flushed. “Uh.…well.”

He scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.”

You walked to him and craned your neck up to see him. “It’s okay.”

You put your hands on his shoulder to pull him down, and kissed his cheek, then did the same to Jotaro. Kakyoin flushed bright red. Jotaro grumbled. “Yare yare daze.”

He pulled his hat down to hide his blush. You laughed at him. He glared at you through his flushed cheeks. “Watch it, woman.”

Kakyoin hid a smile. Jotaro turned away and walked out the door. Before he left, he turned back, refusing to look directly at you. “The old man wants to talk to you.”

He slammed the door behind him. Kakyoin smiled at you and mussed your hair. “I think he likes you.”

You glared at him. “Don’t be dumb, Kakyoin.”

Kakyoin laughed. “Call me Noriaki. Nobody else does.”

You frowned at him. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Kakyoin blushed. “Well, I…”

You cocked your head. “Whatever you say, Noriaki.”

You walked after Jotaro. Kakyoin stared after you. He’d been joking about Jojo, but he was starting to realize that he himself really liked you.

[phantomrose96]

Ghost Speak: The Teacher Part 6

part 1- part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

A secret santa gift for @thickerthanectoplasm - who asked for something with an OC of hers (I chose Annie!)

...

When Annie Fenton got home from school, she shut the door a bit harder than usual, and wriggled off her shoes a bit more forcefully than usual, and stomped to the kitchen to start eating cereal out of the box a bit more angrily than usual.

“How was school, Annie?” Danny asked over his shoulder. He kept his words light, hands still tinkering with the ecto-earpiece he’d been trying to sync to his phone’s bluetooth for a while. The gadget was meant for communication during battle, but Danny wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity for ecto-powered (therefore, him-powered) running headphones.

Annie only huffed. The sounds of fist-being-shoved-into-cereal-box and angry-cereal-crunching got louder.

Danny set the ear pieces down, and sat up straight on the living room couch, now properly angling his body around to see his daughter standing on the other side of the kitchen counter – phone in hand, angry-cereal-grabbing with the other. “Not great then?”

“School was stupid. I wrote an awesome essay and Mr. Flannigan failed me on it.”

James, seated at the kitchen table, perked up a touch. “Mr. Flannigan’s an asshole. You probably shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Hey, language,” Danny chided, now fully rising from the couch.

James looked up. “Dad I’m 15. I can say asshole.”

“No you can’t. I was 15 once and I definitely couldn’t say asshole.”

James grumbled. Danny smiled. He rounded the couch and stopped just shy of the kitchen counter. He lowered his elbows onto the countertop and leaned in. “So, that essay?”

“Look!” Annie tossed the cereal box down, yoinked her bag from the floor, tugged the zipper hard enough to risk snapping it, and rifled through the scores of smashed and stashed papers in her bag before emerging with a crumpled, stapled-at-the-corner document. “Read it!”

Danny took the paper from her. A half-sheet rubric was stapled on top. At a glance, Danny could see all categories of the rubric had been slashed-through. Scrawled at the top in black ink it said, “Not legible. Cannot grade. Please write neatly next time.”

Danny flipped the rubric. He cleared his throat and began reading. “In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, numerous types of symbolism are used throughout the story. Such things as Gatsby’s car, the green light, and T.J. Eckleberg’s eyes all are symbolic of the themes in the story.--”

Annie slammed her hands on the counter, then threw both arms out. “See! You can totally read it!”

James nudged his way into the kitchen, ducking under Annie’s outstretched arms and sidling up behind Danny to glance at the essay.

“Annie I can read this too. I don’t know what the hell Flannigan’s problem is.”

“Language, James.”

“What the heck Flannigan’s problem is,” James amended.

Danny focused back on the essay, a bit of righteous indignation rising in his chest. He continued to skim, and not a single word was illegible. Annie’s handwriting wasn’t perfect, perhaps, and the ink had smudged in a few places. But it was neat enough, and clear enough, and certainly readable.

The front door clicked open, a gust of crisp fall air funneling in as Sam wiggled her key loose, a complicated effort with both arms wrapped about brown bags of groceries. Danny, Annie, and James all turned to watch her as she kicked off her shoes, and kneed the door shut, and set the bags down on the counter.

“You would not believe the lines today. I’ve never seen that place so crowded on a Tues—what?”

Sam paused mid sentence, eyes flitting among her family members all gathered in the kitchen, hunched over a sheet of paper. “What did I walk in on?” Sam asked, more than a little used to catching her whole family conspiring to do something stupid, dangerous, or both.

“Mr. Flannigan failed me because he’s an asshole!” Annie shouted.

“I said language,” Danny responded.

“What?” Sam asked.

“He said my writing ‘isn’t legible’,” Annie continued with air quotes. “But that’s bullshit because Dad AND James can read it no problem. Flannigan’s just a jerk and too lazy to read the essay I SLAVED over.”

“Annie’s totally right like it’s not even that messy,” James chimed in, head angling past his father.

“Yeah I skimmed the whole thing and nothing’s wrong with it,” Danny said.

“See?! Validation! And corruption in the system!” Annie banged her fist on the counter top. “I will not stand idly by as the oppressing teaching class tries to tank my grades!”

“I think we should call the school, maybe,” Danny said.

“Or I can talk to Flannigan. He knows me, and I think kinda likes me,” James offered.

“And I’ll kick his butt!”

“Or we could—” Danny started.

“Give it,” Sam said, hand outstretched and fingers curling in twice in quick succession.

“Huh?”

“The essay in your hands that you’re waving around. Let me see it.”

“Oh, right,” and Danny handed the paper over.

Sam set her eyes to it. Annie pounded one fist into her open palm.

“Whole Fenton family’s got my back,” she said. “Flannigan’s ass is grass!”

Danny cuffed her lightly on the shoulder “Language.”

“Yup, it’s exactly what I hoped it wasn’t,” Sam declared, hefting a sigh that could be felt across the room as she set her free hand to her forehead and dragged it down her face. “It’s been what, 20 years maybe? Since I’ve seen this stupid language.”

“Wait, language?” Danny asked.

“What language Mom? This is my English essay.”

“Maybe she means all your swearing?” James proposed.

“Why the hell would I swear in an English essay James? I’m not stupid.”

“Annie for the last time you better watch it with that langu—” Danny stopped cold. “…Oh. Oh. Oh no,” he said with a single quiet breath. “Wait, give it back. Give it here.” He motioned for the paper, which Sam handed to him. He smoothed out the wrinkles, and began skimming the essay again.

In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, numerous types of symbolism are used throughout the story. Such things as—

No, Danny stared closer, squinted at the paper, willed himself to see the words one-at-a-time. Dissect. Isolate. Read. Really read.

Im F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, hyrrelt num krechnor fa knurriert gan tepeirier van flyrr. Grakk kann nyrut—

“Oh no,” Danny muttered. “Oh no Annie, not you too.”

“Oh thank god!” Sam declared, throwing her arms up in the air. “Some sweet sweet English!”

“Some sweet—wait—wait was I--?” Danny motioned to himself, fingers spread, palm toward his face, hand waving up and down. “Have I not been speaking English? This whole time?”

“Nope,” she poked Danny in the chest, “not a single English word until ‘Oh no Annie’.” 

“…Really?” Danny asked.

“I walked in here. Put the groceries down. Asked ‘what’s going on?’ And all three—all three of you—just went off. None of it was English. I’ve been working off context clues.”

“Hang on what do you mean not English?” Annie grabbed her own paper back, skimming through. “I only know English. What other language could this even be in?”

“Danny, please, answer whatever she just asked, because I don’t have the first clue what she said,” Sam said, turning to rifle through her grocery bags. “I already did this whole dance with you. I’m clocking out on this one.”

“Ghost, Annie,” Danny answered, angling his shoulders just slightly to face his daughter head-on. “Ghost Speak. Ghosts and half-ghosts just kind of, know the language, I guess. We slip into it sometimes without meaning to. Well, I usually don’t. Anymore, at least. But I did right now, I guess, accidentally.”

Annie squinted at her paper. “I wrote an essay in Ghost? I can speak Ghost?”

“You’re speaking it right now.”

“This is Ghost???”

“Listen to yourself closely. You can like, hear it on the fringes of your words.”

“Are you messing with me?” Annie shut her mouth, suddenly tingling with the feeling of sharp edges and enunciations from her mouth that she wasn’t used to. Weird curves and curls of her tongue. A hiss. A light growl. Her smile spread across her whole face. “Oh wicked. Hell yeah, hell yeah! Also, um, how do I stop?”

“With practice. And with training. And with… help… unfortunately,” Danny muttered, seeming to go a little pale.

“Oh no.” Sam paused, letting the groceries sit. “Danny, you’re not going to.”

“I am. For Annie’s sake, I’m willing to make this sacrifice.”

“What sacrifice?” Annie asked.

Danny pulled his phone from his pocket. He thumbed through his contact list and settled on one, and raised the phone to his ear, and the sound of muffled ringing filled the room. A click. A muted hello?

“Hi. Mr. Lancer? It’s Danny. Yeah. Yeah. Good, and you? Yeah, so, I need a favor from you. And before you ask, yes I’m serious—”

…

Hardly 40 minutes had passed when the doorbell rang. Annie opened the door to the sight of an old man almost too tall for the frame, and yet comically too lithe for it as well, almost like she had opened the door for a tree sapling. The old man tipped his bowler’s hat, and seemed to roll and bounce into the house with limbs made of springs.

“Yo! Danny! It has been ages! How the kryypt are you?!”

“Ryan, language,” Danny said, his tone every ounce defeated.

The bean pole man wrapped Danny in a hug, gave him two quick pats on the back and shoved him back. “Yes, language for sure. What’s the damage? Where’s the culprit? I need details.”

“This…” Danny started slowly, motioning to Annie, “is my daughter, Annie. She slipped into Ghost today and hasn’t yet been able to unslip.”

Annie blinked, trying to catch up with the conversation. She got a good look at the newcomer for the first time, as he had finally stopped moving: The man was definitely in his 70’s, his graying hair spiked up front, smushed and disheveled slightly from the bowler hat. His face was deeply wrinkled, skin practically carved into puzzle pieces from—Annie could only speculate—the way his face seemed to bend to an absurd degree with every single emotion that crossed it. He wore square-frame glasses that magnified his eyes, bug-like. His outfit was thrift store chic: hawaiian palm unbuttoned shirt, graphic T beneath with a winking cartoon alligator, tie with stacks of library books printed on it, military camo pants, socks, sandals.

“Your outfit…” Annie spoke slowly, almost in mirror of her father. Her eyes lit up. “absolutely fucking rules.”

“Ha!” the man struck a pose, superman-like, and then flipped his tie over his shoulder. “Thank you! Someone who appreciates fashion!” He stuck a comically-too-large hand out for Annie to shake. “Ryan Finn, spectral enthusiast, and long-time-Fenton-family-friend!”

“More of an acquaintance,” Danny interjected.

Annie took his hand and shook it vigorously. “I didn’t know my dad had any cool friends. Besides maybe Aunt Val.”

“I set a high bar, that’s for sure!” Ryan angled his head over his shoulder toward Danny, still shaking Annie’s hand. “Danny, this child is fantastic!”

“I’m gonna take a nap,” Sam said, rising from the couch and shutting the book she was reading. “Wake me up if anything’s on fire.”

Danny watched her go, staring at the creaking staircase until she had vanished entirely. He looked back on the room, eyes a bit wider, as if suddenly much more afraid of his current company.

“Yeah I’ve um… got to go… patrol… actually… Box Ghost… you know… yeah…” Danny rose too, much more suddenly and tensely than Sam, and transformed on spot. “If you two need anything, don’t hesitate to call Mr. Lancer.”

“Good ol’ Edward!” Ryan chimed back.

“Wait, as in Zelda’s dad?” Annie asked.

“He owes me like, a million times over. Ryan’s kind of his, anyway.”

And with that, Danny shot through the roof, disappearing as a pinprick on the horizon already several hundred feet away. Ryan watched him disappear, then turned back to Annie with a grin.

“I’ve got plenty of experience teaching Ghost, so trust me you’re learning from the best of the best. I also had plenty of time to iron out the wrinkles with my lesson plans when I was running this course on your dad.”

“Wait, you taught my dad?”

“Oh he taught me plenty too. It was mutual! It’s the mark of real life-long friends to bring out the best in each other.”

“How long ago?”

“Oh, man, 20 years ago at this point.”

“So like, you taught him as a teenager? As in when he was my age?”

“Yup and yup.”

“Do you have embarrassing stories about him I can use as blackmail? Can you tell me?? Dad acts like he was only ever cool growing up, and I need to know these things. I need dirt.”

“I will tell anything to anyone who asks with enough enthusiasm! I can keep no secrets, ever! Except one, which is your dad’s identity. I kept that one. But you already know that so I am sworn to no one and nothing! And I can confirm your dad was an absolute mess as a teenager. But still, you have to earn embarrassing stories. Do well with these lessons and we’ll see what I can dish out on your dad. So! Ghost Speak Lesson One! How to stop speaking Ghost! Are you ready kid?”

Ryan struck another pose, and with a grin, Annie mirrored it.

“Oh fuck yeah I’m ready,” she answered.

“Hey!” Ryan stuck a finger out, pointed at Annie. He paused, and the grin on his face spread wider. “I like your fucking language, Kiddo.”

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: October 23 - Whispers

Western! Please comment

Someone give me suggestions for a gothic rockstar au please (for one of the later prompts)

-

Your carriage rattled to a stop, the hot western sun blazing down on you. Wiping your brow with the back of your hand, you gazed up at it from your low brimmed hat as you pulled back on the reins of your horses leading the carriage. Pursing your lips, you grunted when you saw a familiar carriage parked outside the bank, two familiar black stallions nervously pawing at the ground and tossing their heads.

Shaking your own head, you leapt down from your driver's seat and tossed the lead rein over the hitching post, ensuring your horses wouldn't wander. They were well trained, but if any shooting started, it was best to not take chances.

Your spurs clacked as you walked, strolling over to the door of the bank and pushing the door open. One last glance over your shoulder at the other carriage told you that most of the goods had already been taken. Again you shook your head, pressing your lips together in a thin line.

“Loki!” You called, walking into the bank. The two bank tellers were ducked down behind their desks, looking in fear as they saw you enter. “You dirty snake, you knew I was planning on coming here today and you just had to take this target anyways, didn't you?” You called with a heavy drawl.

A tall man in a low brimmed green hat with a gold horned motif stepped out from the vault, easily slinging over what you figured was the last bag of valuables. He wore a deep green button up shirt and long black slacks under his black boots and stirrups. “You clever vixen,” He replied, in a drawl, his voice as enticing as ever and you couldn't help but squirm a little at the sound of it. “You caught me.”

You tilted your head, loosening the whip at your waist, ignoring the gun at your other hip. “This claim's mine.”

“Are you really going to fight me over this?” Loki asked, reaching behind his back and drawing a large hunting knife, also ignoring the gun at his waist.

You cracked the whip. “I can't let you walk away with what's rightfully mine. This city is my territory. You were to get the land east of the river and south of the big rock.”

Loki blinked, “No I had the land east of the river and north of the big rock.” He held up his hands defensively, still brandishing the knife.

You squinted your eyes at him, “Don't you try and weasel out of this one, snake.”

“I promise you, my little vixen, that's the terms we agreed on.”

“You're just trying to trick me, the other bandits warned me of your silver tongue.”

Loki grinned, opening his mouth and waggling his tongue. “No trick here, you just misremember.” Slowly he stepped forward, more of a saunter than a walk, “Should we agree to split the goods?”

That would be the peaceful option, you knew, but you had a reputation to maintain. You couldn't let people think you were weak. “All of it.”

The bank doors banged open, “Stop! Both of you, in the Sheriff's name you're under arrest.”

Quick as a fox, you and Loki had both drawn your guns, turned, aimed, and shot the deputy. Both of your shots aimed true, one in the heart, and one in the head. Whose was which you couldn't tell, but the man slumped to the ground.

Loki blew the smoke from his gun and slowly put it back in its case.

You spun your gun around your finger before gently returning it to its holster.

Once again, you and Loki locked eyes. “Now, about my money.” You growled.

Loki raised an eyebrow coyly.

Raising your whip, you cracked it down, striking at his feet in a warning shot. Loki was much faster than that. He easily moved back, before putting his foot forward and pinning the whip in place.

Loki lunged forward, holding the whip with one hand and rushed at you, his dagger aimed at your throat.

You twisted the whip, curling it around his leg and knocking him to the ground.

Loki kicked his feet and jumped back onto his feet, spinning around like a dancer, narrowing the space between the two of you rapidly. You had to use the whip to keep him away, distance was your only advantage and you were losing it fast.

You lashed out with the whip again, tearing Loki's sleeve, but he caught it with his hand, wrenching it away from you. This time it held fast in his grip. He tugged you towards him, a blow to the chest sent you reeling as you backed away coughing.

Loki released the whip and you stumbled back, until your back collided with the bank wall. He stalked towards you, knife held up, and you knew there was nothing you could do.

Loki took your wrists and pinned them above your head, his body pressing against yours, legs pressing your legs against the rough wooden wall. Swallowing hard you gazed up at him as he looked down at you.

You glared up at him with blazing eyes. This is not how your reign would end. You tried to shift your hands between his one larger hand but his grip held firm, pinning your hands above you in place. Huffing, you blew the loose strands of hair that had fallen in your face as you were finally forced to stare at his face, really truly stare at his face. The green eyes, the sharp cheekbones, the angled jaw, the high forehead. It was all you could do not to bite your lip.

Loki seemed to be seeing you in a new light as well. With his free hand that wasn't pinning you to the wall, and was holding his knife, he flipped the knife down and gently wiped away at a small nick on your face, wiping at the blood.

You hissed at his dirty hands but found his touch to be gentle and caring.

“I've gotten dirt on your face.” Loki murmured softly, looking you over.

“'S fine.” You grunted, trying to hide your blush, glancing away. His chest was pressed to your breasts.

Slowly Loki leaned forward and whispered into your ear, “I think we can come to an arrangement about our mutual territory.” He slowly pulled away. Pulling back, he dragged the tip of the dagger along the edge of your through, tracing the line of your jaw, grinning lazily as he did.

Your breath came in short shallow gasps as you felt the cool steel drag along your skin.

Loki turned away, walking over and picking up the bag. With a casual salute, he winked and waved at you, before turning and strutting out the door.

Your mouth hang slightly agape as you watched his broad shoulders disappear out into the street, hugged nicely by his shirt. Slowly you rubbed your throat where the knife had been and felt goosebumps on your skin.

“Dammit, he played me.” You slammed your fist on the ground and picked up your whip. The sound of his carriage already long gone. Standing up, you dusted off your trousers and shook your head. Next time.

[everyonesawhoregrace]

Nothing But A Memory

@awesomemikaus​: request where reader is Campbell's daughter, but she doesn't know anything, about the reason she came to town and so on, and Tommy plans to use her as a spy, approach her with that motive, but when she realizes that she doesn't know anything , falls in love with her, also that the reader is an angel. And then hell breaks loose when he finds out. very angsty pleaese

An: I'm gonna name my CHILD Sloan. Also , thank u for requesting this bc wow. I loved this. So much. So much that it's 4K words. X

"She can't get hurt, Arthur! Oi! Listen to me!" The brother was clearly upset by how nonchalant Arthur was to his statement. Only once the brothers met each other's eyes did Thomas feel comfortable enough to speak again. "She can't get hurt."

"She's our enemy, what the fuck do you mean she can't get hurt?!" Arthur's eyes widen, he can't wrap his head around Thomas's statement. Not even a bloody week ago, the two were plotting her death.

Thomas grabs a fistful of his brothers shirt and pulls him to his chest. "You lay a finger on her and I swear, Arthur..."

"She's Campbell's daughter." He reminds his brother, just in case he tumbled and took a fall for the worse.

"Please!" Tommy's never pleaded to anyone, let alone his brothers.

But with the weak way Thomas executes his words, Arthur feels a pang in his heart. Thomas falls back to his chair and lets out a shaky breath. He knows that his brothers fell spellbound to the lady.

"Fuckin' hell, Tom..." Arthur takes a step back, swallowing. You've fallen for her, haven't youse?"

3 Days Ago

Sloan Campbell arrived to Small Heath by the luck of the late night train. She was overjoyed to enter Birmingham, the busy, underdeveloped city. As a lover of history, she stayed concentrated in the vast city, occupying her time in libraries, city hall and the museum. Of course she was oblivious that her father, was on a special mission in the very city she was visiting. Alas, twas only Aunt Pol, John, Arthur and Thomas knew about Sloan's visit. It was the Shelby clan who had a plan to mercilessly sacrifice the lady in return for Campbell's injustices to them.

"He's causing chaos throughout the damn city nevermind our own business." Thomas banged his closed fist on the table, during their regular meetings.

The topic of inspector Campbell was brought up. Thomas got upset rather quickly before Polly Grey decided to make the boys feel reassured.

"You don't pay him no mind, we'll get him soon enough." Polly snaps, "Thomas sit down, I've got something to tell you lot."

She watched the colour return to their faces as she told them about Sloan Campbell, the only daughter that stems from the likes of inspector Campbell. She explains Campbell had a love so deep for his only child. He would do anything for Sloan. Anything.

It was Polly Grey who suggested the boys dangle the life of poor Sloan over Campbell, allowing him to flee the city in return for his daughter's life. It was going to be an exchange, simple, harmless. It would only scare the girl.

But it was Thomas who had allowed the darkness to consume him. Once Polly left, he had begun to stir up another plan.

"We need to punish him the way he's punished us." He said after a few drinks were in his belly.

Thomas put down his hat on the table and looked at the blades within the stitching of the flatcap. He was motivated by the idea of killing her.

Polly was discrete, only use her, do not actually harm her. Polly would no allow for the brutal killing of a lady. Especially an innocent one. And innocent she was. And yet, Thomas had different intentions.

Thomas continued. "Like the ones in the war who wanted us dead. We need to kill them before they kill us."

"Fuck yea..." Arthur concludes, after a line of coke. He rubs his nose and grabs a glass of whiskey from the table.

John speaks up. "We ought to blind her Tom,"

"No, worse. We kill her, and lay her body on the same ground Campbell walks so brazen on. This is our city, it's about time we show 'im that boys."

So, it was a plan, the brothers all agreed. Thomas was to be responsible for the capturing of the lady. Arthur and John were going to gut like her a pig and that Inspector Campbell will go running back to Belfast.

There he stood in city hall, awaiting her presence when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Who would've thought the person who tapped him was the lady herself.

Of course, she didn't know who he was. All she wanted was to know where the ticket booth was, after all, she had noticed the stranger had a ticket to the tour.

"Sorry to bother you, but could you point me where the ticket booth is?"

Thomas was frazzled, no, he was rather nervous. Not by the woman herself, nor the fact that the person he was going to shoot dead was standing before him, but rather, her remarkable beauty. She looked nothing like the photograph he was given, no, that was too old of a photo. It was blurry and did not do her justice. The woman before him was breathtakingly stunning, God like. She took his breath away, alongside everyone else within her presence.

He pointed to the ticket booth, she had smiled revealing such a pure soul.

She looked nothing like the awful Chief Inspector Campbell.

Following that dreadful day, Thomas followed Sloan around the city. She was shy, happy, she wore her emotions on her chest. She was unjustifiably beautiful. Petite, brown hair that framed her perfect face. She was the type of woman to use her hair to hide her face, and she smiled, and she laughed. She was goofy, original, she didn't want to please the fucking world. She simply wanted to live. Sloan would always drop a coin into the beggars hat, but more than that, she would stand beside him and ask him if he's alright. She was perfect, the more Thomas studied, the more his cheeks grew hot and his hands grew sweaty.

Yes, that she was, picture perfect.

Finally, Sloan had noticed him peeping one day while she read a book in the library, she raised her head as he ducked his. Pretending to be occupied in a book until she cleared her throat. Sloan stood before him.

"Can I help you?" She asked Thomas, who had looked up at her.

He wanted to run away, feeling his throat dry. He shut his book and got lost in her eyes. "Sorry?"

"You've been watching me from the second I got here. Never mind the fact that I'm nearly certain you're the same lad I had encountered a day ago 'round City Hall."

"I-" He began. Again, she's taken him by surprise. Thomas thinks fast. "I wanted to ask you if I can take you out. I find you beautiful and, yah, will you allow me to take you out for tea or somethin'?" He felt his heart race, his face heating up. He wanted to roll his eyes to the back of his head. Take you out for tea or somethin'? Really Thomas?

She chuckles, narrowing her gaze at him. But the truth was, Sloan was flattered. The man before her was a tall and handsome with great posture and teeth. Hopefully he's got a good paying job too.

No, to Sloan, the man before her was undeniable, most of the men in the world were pretty fucked up from the war. All they do is drink and fight. So, she cracked a smile and replied dubiously, "Alright then. I'm staying at the Midland Hotel, pick me up for eight tonight."

And with that, she spun around and walked her way back to her seat, where she opened up the book she was reading and started where she left off.

Thomas didn't tell the boys that he was going on a date with Sloan fucking Campbell. Instead, he told them that he was going to entertain the new barmaid Grace. They cheered him on, and off Thomas went.

Though it was a fake date, the closer the lad got to the Midland hotel, the more anxious and uneasy he got. Thomas was fumbling with his tie, shifting in his suit. He got feverishly irritated with the cuffs on his blazer and nearly tore them from his suit altogether.

Meanwhile, Sloan readied herself rather quickly. Wearing a navy blue dress and black kitten heels. She had allowed herself to calm down after finishing two glasses of champagne.

She stood before a mirror once finished and beamed at the finished product. "So, you find me beautiful?" Her serious, sexual face makes her giggle.

"Oh Sloan," She turns to her side and runs her hands along her dress. "You do look mighty fine though."

And she did, with her hair in light curls and a touch of makeup on. She put on her favourite perfume and listened to the radio, Sloan was a natural beauty, but she looked especially stunning tonight.

So stunning that when she walked down the stairs to the lobby, two men had offered their hands to assist her before Thomas was able to get to her. He made sure to claim her before any man would.

"Hi." She says, her hand falls into his. His hand is warm, and she flushes. The two are nervous.

Thomas stands tall, "Hi, you look..."

She's taken his breath away, all he does is shake his head. The silk material of the dress is plush around her curves. Thomas notices her décolletage, Sloan's stunning. Thomas quickly concluded and leans down to kiss her cheek.

"You look absolutely mesmerizing tonight, Sloan." He whispers in her ear.

She blushes, and as the two get on with their first date, she can't help but hold her tongue, wanting to tell Tommy the same thing.

He was kind hearted, chivalrous. He took her to a restaurant where people grew rather interested in Tommy and Sloan. 

They were numb to it, she discussed her passion of history he explained his passion of horses. They listened to each other in great detail. He explained that he had three brothers and a sister, to which she told him that she was an only child.

"Are your parents alive?" He asks, knowing the answer. But there was something so sweet about listening to her speak. Thomas grew fond of her voice, among many other things.

"Yes, and yours?" She tore apart a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth.

"No. Are you close to your parents then?"

She takes a sip of her wine. "I'm sorry to hear about your parents. Also. Yes and no. My mum and I are very close, but my father and I could have a better bond for sure." Sloan mentions Thomas's full plate. "How come you're not eating?"

He runs his sweaty palms over his pants, "I'm too nervous to eat." He replies honestly. His stomach twists and turns in knots. Somehow, the dinner that was supposed to be a stall before her death, ended up being so much more than that.

She blushes, looking down. "Do I make you nervous?"

Sloan looks at him with big eyes, and Thomas is nearly certain she's capable of murdering him. Right there. At that very moment. All he desires is her lips against his, and her body against his.

You take my breath away, Sloan.

After dinner, the two walked side by side down the street. Thomas has so many good qualities about him, it made Sloan very happy. Even though he was a hard shell to crack at first, he opened up and revealed things to her that he would have a hard time with admitting to anyone else.

Beaming, she up and into his eyes, "Thomas,"

"Yes." He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her.

"The people of the city practically bow down to you, I can't help but wonder what it is that you do."

His mouth twitched, "I own several businesses."

"Business that involve horses? You had told me you love them."

"Yes, something like that." Thomas doesn't want to give much away. After all, he is a no good criminal.

She chews on her inner cheek and Thomas smiles.

"Is there something else you'd like to ask me?" He stood in front of her, preventing the two from continuing their walk.

"No." She reveals, meeting his baby blue eyes. "I just want to tell you I had a great time with you tonight."

He ought to grab that face and kiss her all over. No, he thinks about the plan. How could he forget!? Death to the inspector’s daughter. But as she poured her heart into him, he can't help but put that idea in a cupboard in the deep depths of his mind, and shut the door. Death to the inspector’s daughter, no. Not her.

"As did I," He grins, and is startled when she rests her hand on his chest and leaves a soft kiss to his cheek. Thomas flushes, "Thank you."

She chuckles and mentions the hotel down the street. "Will you walk me to the hotel?"

Fuck. The end already?

Thomas nods and the two of them walk a little closer this time. He puts an arm around her and once they stood in the lobby together, Tommy Shelby willed himself to bent down and kiss her. Though it was a ballsy move on Shelby's part, Campbell deepens the kiss. She hooked her arm around his shoulder and went from a quick peck, to a passionate kiss.

She gives his hand a squeeze as she settles into her heels. "Thanks again for a tonight."

"No," He's drunk off of that kiss. Where did she learn to kiss like that? Holy hell. "Thank you." So much.

The two went their separate ways. Tommy feels as though he's walking on clouds. Sloan doesn't feel an ounce tired as she lays in bed, flattered by the kind words shared tonight.

Once he's home, he doesn't resort to the drugs as a sleep aid, but rather, Thomas falls asleep dreaming pleasantly of Sloan.

The two became inseparable. Thomas surprised Sloan with flowers the following day, he took her to Johnny's Yard, where they spent an evening under the stars. They held hands this time, and he smiled and laughed more. He wanted to kiss her lips again, and she wanted nothing but the same.

"You've brought me to the outskirts of the Small Heath, where there are portable homes and plenty of cow shit to keep a garden alive for years!" Sloan pinched her nose, giving Tommy a silly face as she sat beside him. "I wish you had told me, I wouldn't have worn heels."

The two of them sat under the stars. The soft autumn breeze was welcoming. The women from the homes had prepared a dinner for the young couple. Thomas was adamant on keeping Sloan out of the city. Campbell had harmed Polly just hours ago, and that scared Thomas. He feels conflicted though, with admitting to his family that he fancies the Inspectors daughter. Thomas doesn't quite know what to do.

"I reckon I was conceived here." He whispers, kissing the top of her head.

Sloan laughs, burying her face in his chest. "Well I'm honoured to be here, then. Despite the cow shit."

Thomas flushes. "I want to own this land someday."

"You should." She looks up and smiles at him.

"I've never told anyone that before," Tommy chuckles. He notices the long grass shift in the wind. "I've never really thought about the future like this, before."

"Why?"

"There was nothing really good for me to look forward to until now." He found himself looking at Sloan before admiring. "Until I met you."

Her heart melts, and she lunges at him, covering him in kisses.

Laying together afterward, Sloan had noticed the stars in the sky settle into bright white lights. She smiles helplessly, cuddling into his chest, the smell of him is delicious.

Thomas also gets lost in the night sky, with his lady by his side, what else can he do except take a deep breath and feel like life is complete. That night the two of them made love under the stars. It was slow and soft, yet feverish and passionate.

Sloan had giggled as the Thomas laid on his back struggling to breathe. "What is it?" He asked, oh, he could hear Sloan laugh forever.

"I've never made love outdoors before." She whispers.

"Nor have I." He replies honestly.

The two lay nested together until they fall asleep.

He had been stalling with the boys. Apparently things between "Grace the Barmaid" and Thomas had been progressing. The boys believed it, gullible they are. Polly stuck her nose up as Thomas told the family a lie. But regardless, they agreed, a day after tomorrow, they were to kill Sloan Campbell.

That evening as the two of them laid naked, listening to their soft breaths and the night sky, he had something very important to say. Something that's been occupying his mind since the first time the two of them went on a date.

"Sloan, why aren't your father and you close?"

Certainly she's just as fucked as her father is. It was John who said that as a way to excuse the fact that they were going to kill a woman.

"Well I don't agree with the things my father does, his values, his beliefs, they're...well, they're quite terrible." She reveals, feeling comfortable with talking to Tommy about this. "Aside from the fact that he used to hurt my mum."

He grits his teeth at the thought of young Sloan having to witness any form of abuse within the home.

Thomas cradled her head on his chest, as he tended to do after the two of them made sweet, sweet love. So, John was wrong, she isn't bad like her dad. She's just as loving and good as Thomas knew she was all along.

With that, he goes on to ask her an extremely important question. "Do you reckon you love me, Sloan?"

She stops running her hand over his chest and sits up to look at him. She's red from the sex, or perhaps it's the question he's asked her. "Tommy-"

Thomas sits up and combs through her hair. The loose curls that fall from her bun. "Honestly. Do you?"

"I..." She said, her eyes drift elsewhere. "I do have strong feelings for you but love?"

He swallows, making up his mind rather quickly. "I love you, Sloan. And I'm going to propose somethin' and I want you to listen to me."

Her eyes widen.

"Come away with me. Let's go somewhere only we know, somewhere quiet and freeing and-"

She puts a finger on his mouth. "What are you talking about? Running away?"

He grabs her wrist and Tommy leans in to run a hand over his jaw. He gets lost in her sincere eyes. "I don't much about the world, Sloan. Hell, I feel as though I barely know meself sometimes. But a life with you, I do want. I-I need it, to be honest." He set his lips firmly, his time his thumb runs over her bottom lip. "I'm certain about you."

"We can't run away together."

"Why not? I've got enough money to travel the world-" Please, please, please allow me this!

"I want to stay here." She whispered, watching the colour in Tommy's eyes shift from a soft blue to a the bright sea blue. Her fingers caress his cheek just as he was doing to her. "With you, n-not run."

His shoulders dropped. But he had hope, one last sliver of hope. Thomas noticed the crease in between her forehead and gently kissed it. "Meet me here tomorrow evening. Think about it, Sloan. I'll have my bags packed, and I hope you will too."

She nods, agreeing that she'll consider the idea of running away with Tommy.

Unfortunately, that night, when Tommy dropped her off at the hotel, he didn't receive a goodnight kiss.

Sloan didn't sleep. She paced around with nothing but an occupied mind. The truth was, she was beginning to fall deeply in love with Tommy. But to run away? It was something she didn't want.

It led to so many questions, like why did he want to run away? Why was he so adamant? Sloan felt her heart sink to her stomach as her heart rate lowered, she fell asleep with nothing but an aching heart.

The following morning, Tommy stood before his family. Today was the day Sloan Campbell was to be murdered. Polly still hadn't a clue of their plans so she was not invited to the final meeting. The entirety of that meeting, Tommy was quiet. He had his bags packed at home. He had sent a letter addressed to her to the Midland Hotel, a love letter if you will. One that contains solid information that will hopefully push Sloan into leaving with him. 

"Why is he being so quiet?" John had grumbled to Arthur who shrugged.

"I 'ave no fuckin' clue." He whispered back before the doors to the Garrison opened, revealing a shaken Polly. Her eyes are hungry for blood, her eyes set on Tommy.

"Been doin' your job have you?" She asks, hasty and panicked.

"What?"

"Spying on Campbell's child, Tommy, hows that been?!" She’s got her hands on her hips.

Fuck. He's been caught. Before he can confess, or lie, he cheek is met with Polly's hand. She slaps her nephew hard, like when she had caught him stealing from the baker down the street.

"Have you no disregard for this family?! You're fucking his daughter!"

Arthur stood from his seat, his eyes meet Thomas’s. "What the fuck is she talking about, Tom?"

“Oh yea, I’ve heard about the love letter you’ve written to her. The delivery man was practically shaking in his boots, Tom! Soon, Campbell himself will know about this!” 

“Listen to me-” Thomas begins, but Arthur lunges forward but John grabs his older brother. 

“Enough, Arthur! Sit down!” 

“I ought to kill the both of youse!” Arthur barks.

"She can't get hurt, Arthur! Oi! Listen to me!" The brother was clearly upset by how nonchalant Arthur was to his statement. Only once the brothers met each other's eyes did Thomas feel comfortable enough to speak again. "She can't get hurt."

"She's our enemy, what the fuck do you mean she can't get hurt?!" Arthur's eyes widen, he can't wrap his head around Thomas's statement. Not even a bloody week ago, the two were plotting her death.

Thomas grabs a fistful of his brothers shirt and pulls him to his chest. "You lay a finger on her and I swear, Arthur..."

"She's Campbell's daughter." He reminds his brother, just in case he tumbled and took a fall for the worse. John tries to break the two up, but there isn’t a soul that can tame Thomas when he’s passionately angry. 

But with the weak way Thomas executes his words, Arthur feels a pang in his heart. He knows that his brothers fell spellbound to the lady.

"Fuckin' hell, Tom..." Arthur takes a step back, swallowing. “You've fallen for her, haven't youse."

"She's happy." Thomas whispers, looking down as he chucked his cigarette on the cold street. "With me, I mean, she's happy."

“Fucking hell!” Arthur slams his hand against the table. “Out of all the girls in the land, you pick her!” Of course Arthur was thrilled for his brother, after all, he hadn’t been with a woman since before the war. But Sloan was too risky.

Polly speaks, "Tommy, you cannot love a woman like that, she, her father is an inspector for the government."

"But I am."

"You are what?" She's afraid to even ask.

"In love with her." He whispered.

“What do you want to do then?” Arthur finally asked after calming down. “Marry her and run off?” 

He felt his breath shake, “I honestly don’t know.” 

And yet, he found himself in Johnny's Yard at dawn. Thomas stilled as she stood on the grounds. He had wished, prayed and pleaded that she would accept his letter and pack her belongings. He saw her frame at the top of the hill, she stood beside the tree the two had laid in the past two evenings. Sloan’s heart was breaking as she stood by herself. No bags packed, all she had was the letter he had sent her at her side. She had met him here, this was the second time, and like the first, Sloan was quite anxious of what was to come.

Thomas didn’t allow the time or heart to say anything, so, instead, he cocked his gun back and swallowed. With her back to him, be began. "In the bleak midwinter."

She was shaking, and it pained Thomas to see her this way. She dropped the letter, the wind consumed it. Thomas looked up and watched as the love letter soared into the air.

"Thomas," She whispered. Sloan felt her heart in her throat, choking her. She clenched her fists. "Please why are you-"

"Shut up!" He snapped, it tore him apart. "Shut up."

Tears roll down Sloan's cheeks, all she can do is muster the strength to turn around. Her eyes met Thomas's, and when she saw the barrel of the gun, Sloan did feel like dying. Her heart was broken, the man she had fallen so rapidly in love with was going to kill her. This was a devastating love story. A tragedy she had read about in Julius book, Creid Erton.

"You didn't mean any of it then?" Sloan's voice is shaky as she speaks so timidly. "The love, the vow to protect me."

“I told you we should leave together. You should have listened.” His eyes glazed over. “You should have listened!” He shouts, and his fingers rim the trigger. 

There is a pop, and a bullet sores between the two. Tommy grabs Sloan and forces her to the ground, she gasps, looking up at Thomas who shields her, “Stay down.” He tells her. 

“Sloan!” Campbell’s voice comes from the bottom of the hill. “Shelby, you bastard, give me my daughter!” 

Sloan panics. “Let me talk to him” She tells Thomas, “He won’t hurt me if I tell him I’m safe-” 

“No!” 

“You pointed a gun at me, he thinks you’ll kill me.” 

Fuck, she’s right. “Be careful, please.” Thomas allows for her to stand, she slowly makes her way towards her father. 

“Dad, I’m alright.” She has her hands up. 

“What the bloody hell, Sloan?! What are you doing with Tommy? Do you know who this man is?!” Campbell lowers his weapon. 

“I love him, dad.” She starts.

“Love!?” He laughs, and raises his gun. “Yer just as stupid as yer mother.”

Thomas gasps and Sloan lets out a cry before a stray bullet punctures her shoulder, she falls back and sees the beautiful sky. Thomas is on his feet and shooting at Campbell who dies from a gunshot to the head. 

He races down the hill and grabs Sloan who is losing more blood every second. Thomas put pressure on it, and she screams in pain. He repeats that he loves her, and he’s sorry. Her world goes dark and the next time Sloan wakes up, she’s in a hospital in Belfast. 

And Tommy Shelby is nothing but a memory.

[freckled-words]

Fleeting Worlds - Destiny’s Gravity Part One

You are all going to hate me.

As previously expressed, I have WAY too many ideas for fanfictions. So I’ve decided, I’m going to share these ideas, but not in the way you’d expect.

Instead of writing out every single story. You are only going to get snippets. There’s going to be little to no pre-text, just straight up “BANG - YOU’RE NOW IN THIS MOMENT THAT HAS BEEN CIRCULATING IN MY IMAGINATION FOR THIS ONE IDEA.”

Depending on the length of the idea, it’ll get broken up into parts. But every idea will belong to the general collection of “FLEETING WORLDS.”

Note: I am terrible at writing action sequences, and there’s a lot first thing for this one. Sorry ^^”

This is not edited.

SCENARIO: Ochako wakes up in a dingy bar, the League of Villains are facing her down, and Bakugo is restrained in a chair to her left. More concerning, Shigaraki has placed a “no harm” rule for her.

“..eeks”

“Wake…..fuck….Uraraka!”

Smoke clogged the air, blue flames consumed the trees, and blades came darting towards her.

Ochako’s eyes snapped open, and her body reacted to the feel of hands at her wrists. Fast enough to make her neck muscles protest, she snapped her head back, colliding it with someone’s face.

The grip on her hands released, she took in the threats surrounding her.

Behind her a man wearing a full body costume clutched at his face, blood soaking through where his nose was.

A man with black hair, pale skin, horrible scarring, and sharp blue eyes. 

The blonde girl, Toga, had attacked her and Tsu head on, despite the odds. 

Shigaraki from the League of Villains lounging at a bar, uncaring. 

The vaporous villain from the USJ attack.

And a tall man, dressed well, wearing a top hat and spiral mask.

She couldn’t remember exactly how she’d gotten here, but that could be reflected on later. 

Right now she focused on what to do next.

“Don’t just stand there, start kicking some ass!”

A glance to her left, and she was startled to see Bakugo. Bound and locked down in a chair, he was the embodiment of irate.

His voice didn’t just cut through to her, it got the others into motion too.

Toga drew out a blade giggling, “We get to play more Ochako-chan!”

Reacting more than thinking, Ochako turned and grabbed hold of the complaining man behind her. Activating her quirk, she spun and launched him into Toga, “WE AIN’T FRIENDS!”

As he went flying with no gravity she heard him...cheer? “WHEEEE!! FUCKING BITCH!”

Toga quickly dropped her blade, not wanting to impale her coworker. Ochako released the effect of her quirk just as his body connected with the girl’s, and the two went sprawling.

The black haired young man had seen it coming and dodged. He approached her with long, leisurely strides, “Cute little girls should behave, less they get into trouble.”

“FUCK HIM UP CHEEKS!” Bakugo’s encouragement wasn’t needed, but it was appreciated.

The problem was her lack of room. They’d placed her in a chair tucked towards the corner, with the open end of the bar blocking off the space in front of her. Bakugo blocked her in on the left, and the front was closed off by the villains.

Well, there was plenty of room above her.

Curling her fingers into loose fists, she gave the appearance of being ready to brawl. The approaching man scoffed and coiled, ready to lunge. Feeding off of Bakugo’s usual cockiness, she smirked, and launched up off the ground, having activated her quirk on herself.

Since learning martial arts from Gunhead, Ochako had spent a good deal of time strengthening her body. Her legs gave her plenty of propulsion, sending her flipping over the man’s head. Mid-way through she snapped out her foot, catching him in the head with a solid kick.

This also gave her redirection towards the roof. With a slight twist of her body, she got herself to turn and connect back first with the surface. 

From here she could see two doors, one of which had to lead out of the building. Ochako was confident in her fighting style, but not so confident to think she was going to win against this many adversaries. On top of that, she had to get Bakugo out of here too.

There was a thick, locked block of metal around his hands, likely cancelling his quirk. Chances were good that the portal villain had the key to unlock it, and that wasn’t a fight she’d be able to win.

“This is getting on my nerves. Lock her down, now. Sensei wants to talk to her.” Ochako’s attention snapped to Shigaraki, thinking he would be leveling his disturbed glare at her. Instead, his focus was on Bakugo. Bakugo in turn was glaring right back at him, his teeth bared in a snarl.

A flutter of nausea touched on her stomach, reminding her that a few days of training camp didn’t mean she’d mastered her motion sickness. The thought of spewing all over the villains beneath her was disgusting, yet tempting.

It was only thanks to the warp villain being so close to Shigaraki, that she caught the movement of him turning his face in her direction.

Knowing what his quirk was, she quickly launched off the roof, aiming herself for the farthest end of the bar and the door there. A rustle of air against the back of her neck told her she’d barely missed being sucked through his portal.

The man in the spiral mask gave a heavy sigh shaking his head, “This is what we get for abducting teenagers. Magne dear, if you wouldn’t mind?”

A hulking woman she’d missed through her first sweep smiled brightly. She took hold of the masked man by the back of his shirt, and with a massive swing launched him up, on course to intercept Ochako's path.

“DON’T LET HIM TOUCH YOU!” 

“YA FUCKIN’ THINK!?” Adrenaline in her veins, and fear skirting at the back of her mind, had her snapping back at Bakugo without a second thought. 

Ochako released her quirk, and tucked into a roll as she dropped to the floor. This left the masked man to go sailing into the bar, where the warp villain barely managed to catch him in a gate and deposit him elsewhere.

The second she touched the ground, she used her curled momentum to unfurl back up onto her feet. Unfortunately it had put her real close to yet another villain she hadn’t first spotted.

This was one she didn’t know, and didn’t remember seeing during the USJ attack.

With his lizard appearance, it wasn’t hard to guess his quirk, but it didn’t give her a scope of what he was capable of.

Since he stood between her and the door, there was no question of what she needed to do. 

He must have seen it in her eyes, as he grinned back and drew out two different blades, “Were it not for Shigaraki’s Sensei, I would perform Stain’s will and remove your notions of false heroism.” 

“Don’t hurt her you idiot! Sensei wants her untouched!”

Shigaraki’s warning caused the lizard man to roll his eyes a touch, he’d literally just said he wasn’t going to do any serious damage. 

A nasty knot twisted in Ochako’s gut. She did not want to meet whoever this sensei was.

The ground under her feet lurched, and her balance went off. She’d stayed in one spot too long!

A warp gate had opened beneath her, too wide for her to be able to grab onto the edges of the floor, she dropped through.

They’d opened the other end right over top of the massive woman, depositing Ochako right into her vice grip.

What must have looked like a bear hug, felt like two metal beams wrapped around her. Keeping her hands against her side and unable to touch anything. Her feet couldn’t even touch the floor.

As she struggled, attempting to get her heels to connect with any part of the woman’s body, the black haired man came over with a pair of black gloves in his hand, “Told ya we should have put these on her first thing. But does anyone listen?”

The woman, who Ochako believed was named Magne, shifted her grip so Ochako’s hands were more easily accessible. Ochako immediately clenched her hands into tight fists, she’d be damned if she was going to make anything easy for them.

The scarred man sighed through his nose and looked to Shigaraki, “Do you want this done quickly, or do you want us to play nice and take another two hours?”

Shigaraki's hands scratched at his throat as he whispered and hissed to himself a moment, “Fine! I’m sure Sensei will forgive a small transgression, for the sake of expediency.”

Permission given, turned what she could almost call an apologetic smile to her, “I tried to warn ya kid.” He dug his thumb into the squishy tendons on the bottom of her wrist, which was uncomfortable but bearable. He put his quirk into play from there, heating a single spot of his thumb that steadily began to burn into her flesh. She couldn’t keep her scream in check, nor could she endure it for long, allowing her fingers to uncurl.

A freezing cold cloth was wrapped around her wrist, and the gloves were slid onto her hands. She owned a pair herself for when she was sleeping. They were designed to cancel a person’s touch based quirk.

Finding her more compliant, Magne released her bear hug, but forced Ochako’s arms behind her back. She didn’t see who, but someone was quick to tie her wrists together.

That burning pain had cut through the adrenaline Ochako had been using for fuel. As it left her system, and the pain took up the forefront of her mind, she became aware of muffled yelling.

At some point, she didn’t know when, Bakugo must have gotten too noisy for their liking. One of the members had shoved a rag into his mouth. It cut down the volume of his fury, but it didn’t stop his enraged yelling in the slightest.

“Finally! We’ve kept Sensei waiting long enough. Let’s go Kurogiri.”

Shigaraki hopped down from the bar stool, and walked over to her. His pale white hand went to the back of her neck, and rested there, leaving only his pinky from touching. 

Ochako flashed back to the mall, where Shigaraki had been holding Deku hostage much the same way. She hadn’t seen it during the USJ attack, but Deku had explained that Shigaraki’s quirk would have disintegrated his body had all five fingers made contact.

“Behave yourself. It’s only Sensei’s wish to see you that has kept you alive right now.” 

Again she felt the ground beneath her give way, instead of the quick drop from a moment before, they sank at a controlled rate.

Fear and pain strangled her mind, and needing some form of comfort, she lifted her sight over to Bakugo.

The absolute fury shining in his ruby irises eased back a layer of the fear. She knew without a doubt, that if he got himself free, he was going to go off like a nuclear warhead. 

As volatile as Katsuki Bakugo could be, he was 100% hellbent on becoming the #1 hero. And a hero wouldn’t stand by after watching one of their peers be hurt and taken to who knows where.

[bangtanbetchfics]

Apartment 2B (m) | ruins (finale)

genre: angst, smut, fluff rating: mature pairing: jungkook + OT6 x female reader word count: 5.6k suggested listening: no manners - superm | 21:29 - twice | falling leaves are beautiful - heize | playlist warnings: casual sex, explicit language, alcohol use summary: outside forces threaten the relationship you’ve built with jungkook. notes: the long awaited finale to the series, uwu. this was supposed to be 5 chapters, but these characters told me to end this story here. tysm for following along! ＼(*^▽^*)/ navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale

PRESENT DAY

“No, no, no.” You whisper repeatedly to yourself, as if in a trance. The vines that hang from your balcony are withered, and a few broken flowerpots align the floor. 

Your eyes are unfocused as you look out into the distance. Your body goes numb, and black streaks start to stain your face as tears run down your cheeks. Your eyes become bloodshot as you continue to look out onto the dark horizon.

Another tear drifts down from one of your eyes – slipping into a crevice of your lips. You taste the salt as the tear hits your tongue and you quickly lift a hand to rub it away.

Your phone rings, snapping you from your daze.

“I told you I don’t want to do this with you right now!” You scream into your phone. You squeeze the phone tightly in your hand, the cool metal pressing into your skin. You look at the phone trembling in your hand for a moment before throwing it into a wall. 

A loud crash rings through the air as the glass screen shatters into a million shards on the floor.

Your body crumples into itself and you start to sob. Hot tears stream down your face as you dig your nails into your scalp – and you attempt to gasp for air as you cry.

Miri scampers into the room, whining as she observes you for a moment. She hops into your lap and licks your lips and cheeks to try to calm you.

It’s no use.

You only snap out of your haze as you hear banging at your door.

**

WEEKS EARLIER

“A-Ah, Jungkook, ah-” You scream out just as Jungkook stops pounding into you. You catch your breath and throw your head back to slowly grind on his cock. You close your eyes as you get lost in the sensations coursing through your body. Jungkook’s soft moans float through the room.

Jungkook presses his head further back into the pillow as he reaches up to guide your waist. He moans as he watches you move on top of him.  

“That feels so good.” He sighs out. His hands wander up to your breasts and his fingers ghost over your nipples. You grab his hand a suck at one of his fingers before letting him return to caressing your breasts.

You throw your hair to one side as you bend down to kiss Jungkook. Your tongues glide over one another’s – feeling every corner of each other’s mouths. Jungkook pulls you further into the kiss as he starts to thrust harder into you. You take heavy breaths into each others mouths as Jungkook’s strokes grow deeper. Your train your eyes on him as he continues to pound into you furiously. 

Something about watching him lost in you was so erotic.

You pull your lips from his and you moan out as you feel your juices start to drop down his cock. 

Jungkook looks at you, grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger. 

“You’re getting so wet. Come here.” He whispers. He grabs one more kiss before you comply. 

You crawl to the top of the bed and position yourself over Jungkook’s mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue hit your slick walls. 

Wet slurping sounds and moans litter the air as he seems to eat further into you with each lick and motion of his lips and tongue. 

His tongue was torturous now. 

Jungkook was slow, intentional – and he now knew all of the triggers to make you cum with just his tongue.

An ache starts to rush through your body and you press your weight further on his tongue and lips. 

You gasp as you suddenly cum all over his tongue and he heaves for air as you pull off him. He looks at you with a grin – his face glistening from your juices. He runs his tongue over his lips, watching you.

You climb back to the bottom of the bed to sit back on top of his cock. You position yourself, using his hard, muscled legs as a base to steady your body. You flip your hair over one of your shoulders, and you then turn around to look at him as you ride him.

“That drives me crazy.” You give him a devilish grin and bite your lip as you look back at him. You grip the sheets as you feel him get harder inside you. He lets out a hard groan as he grabs your ass and then smacks it as you work. His breathing gets quicker, reigniting your own arousal. You moan as you ride him faster and he starts to breath out every time your skin makes contact.

The impact of skin-on-skin and your growing wetness fills the room – and you climax a second time. 

Jungkook slaps your ass quickly for you to get off him. He finishes over your buttocks and runs a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath. He grabs a few tissues from the nightstand and wipes you off.

You both crawl back to the head of the bed and Jungkook pulls the soft covers over the both of you.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming. ” Jungkook whispers as you move over to lay on his chest. Your hands run up his body, and settle on his abdomen.

“Maybe you are. ” You whisper back, and he looks at you for a moment. 

“Let me take advantage of it then.” He whispers again before he pulls you into a fervent kiss. He pulls away, tucking a few hairs behind your ears. 

You sigh with content.

“What did I do without you?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug and then giggle. 

Jungkook laughs and then places another kiss on your lips.

“I love it when you laugh. You make me so happy.” You put your hand on Jungkook’s face and brush at the crinkles at the edges of his eyes. He places a hand on your wrist as you look into his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ready to meet my family?” Jungkook asks, blushing a bit. 

You give him an assuring nod.

“My brothers are crazy, I’m warning you. Guaranteed you’re going to see more photos of baby Jungkookie’s booty than you hoped for.” You giggle again as you hug his waist under the covers.

“I can’t wait.” You say as you lay your chest on his. He kisses the top of your forehead and smiles.

**

Hot sand stings the bottom of your feet as you trudge through the beach. The sweet smell of sea salts and ocean water hit your nose as a cool breeze floats by. Jungkook trails in front of you with beach supplies: chairs, buckets, towels – the works. He looks back at you, who’s trailing behind.

“Come here.” Jungkook walks toward you and lifts you onto his back. You giggle as he resumes walking the beach again. You squeeze him as the sunshine kisses your cheeks.

“Jungkook!” You yell as you see a purple frisbee whirling your way. Jungkook looks up and spots it, then catches it with one hand without losing a beat.

You see a man in the distance running toward the both of you. Jungkook lights up.

“Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook shouts, waving at the man approaching. Jungkook lets you down off his back.

The man is quite tall, with sun-kissed highlights filtered throughout his dark locks. His skin has a healthy glisten to it, and two little dimples bloom on either side of his mouth when he smiles.

“Jungkookie!” Hobi tries to scoop Jungkook up into his arms, but Jungkook’s just too heavy. “That doesn’t work anymore, huh?” The two laugh, and you join in. 

Hobi notices your laugh and looks over at you and his eyes widen.

“Oh, is this her?” Hobi asks. He looks at Jungkook with a wide, knowing smile, and then back to you.

“Yes, this is my girlfriend.” Jungkook blushes and then massages the back of his neck.

“I’m Hoseok. Jungkook’s older brother. But you can call me Hobi.” He extends a hand to you, smiling. You can’t help but smile at how much he beams. 

“Hobi! What’s going on over here?!” Another man comes jogging over. He’s tall with broad shoulders and silky black hair that’s affixed under a headband. Kind eyes and plump lips complete his face.

“Jinnie, look this is her!” Hobi points, pulling the man over. “Ah, nice to meet you. I’m Jin!” Jin shouts, shaking your hand gingerly. He then places a kiss on your hand, as you laugh.

“Hey!” Jungkook shouts and Jin puts his fists up just as Jungkook does. You take a step back as the two look like they’re about to spar. Jin takes a swing and Jungkook bobs out of the way.

“Ah, you’ve still got it I see!” Jin laughs out before pulling Jungkook in for a noogie. Jungkook tries to struggle out of it but it’s no use.

“Namjoon-ah!” Hobi yells out in the distance to another man. The man crouching in the distance notices and come running over.

As the man arrives, you notice he’s the tallest of the bunch. His sandy blonde hair is flipped to one side and runs long down his neck. He has nice, sturdy legs and an almost intimidating build.

“Guys look what I found over there !” His dimples light up his smile as he holds out his hand. He starts to jump up and down and everyone looks at his hand. A small crab flits around in it.

“It’s a hermit crab!” He exclaims. You can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and he notices.

“Oh, I’m Namjoon. Nice to meet you!” He exclaims, putting his sand-covered hand out at you. “Ah!” He squeals as he notices, wiping his hands on his pants. You giggle again as you nod and shake his hand.

“Is this the poor soul you’ve convinced to like you?” A man mumbles to Jungkook as he slogs over to see what the commotion is about. He’s wearing all black and is covered head to toe. The only noticeable color on him is the white sunscreen spread across his nose.

“I’m Yoongi, and I’m so sorry. He thinks he’s so cool now that he’s dating you.” Yoongi laments, as he pats your shoulder. You chuckle as Yoongi pulls the brim of his bucket hat back down and crosses his arms.

You laugh as Yoongi gets sprayed with a stream of water. He pulls his hat off to throw it and run after the two men who run toward the group. 

Both men are carrying neon water guns and start to reload the water. 

One of the men looks you over as he approaches, then tilts his head.

“Ah, you must be Y/N. I’m Jimin.” He says. Jimin’s face lights up and his eyes turn into little crescent moons from his smile. His aura is effervescent and he giggles as he looks at you.

“Ah, you’re so beautiful! Do you know that?” Jimin gleams as he still holds onto your hand, giving you a smirk. You giggle, and then blush a bit – looking at Jungkook.

“Jiminie-hyung, can you please stop flirting with my girlfriend.” Jungkook pouts out and Jimin throws his head back in laughter. 

“Oh please, Jungkookie. I’m just playing with you.” Jimin laughs, knocking Jungkook in the arm.

Jungkook gasps for air as a stream of water suddenly hits him in the face. “Tae-hyung!” He screams. 

Taehyung shrugs his shoulders up to his ears and laughs. “Sorry Jungkookie.” He chuckles before throwing the watergun over his shoulder.

Taehyung extends his hand out to shake yours. “I’m Taehyung.” He says. He’s quite cute, and you’re taken by surprise at how deep his voice is. The way he poses with the watergun to mock Jungkook suddenly makes him look like he came straight from the pages of VOGUE.

“Can you all please behave in front of our guest?” Namjoon whines, and all six men nod.

“C’mon Jungkookie – now that you two are here we can eat!” Hobi exclaims, starting to grab some of the items Jungkook brought along. 

You start to pick up some items and Jimin playfully slaps your hand. “No, no, no. That’s why there are seven of us, you naughty girl.” He grins, before taking items from you. Jungkook glares at Jimin again and Jimin sticks out his tongue at him.

“I’m so sorry, I told you they were crazy.” Jungkook laments as he looks at you. 

You laugh and put your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder as you walk toward the house.

**

There’s a wide array of food spread across the table: various meats, banchan and alcohol. The smell of charcoal and barbeque drifts through the window and fills the air. The room is clamoring with noise.

“Remind me, how did you two meet again?” Yoongi asks, taking a sip of his beer.

“Well, my dog ran away in the park, and shortly after JK offered to dogsit. And the rest is history.” You say as you look up at Jungkook, and he smiles.

“Ah, well. JK here always did have a bit of a noona kink.” Hobi giggles out. Namjoon glares at him. 

“Explain.” You say to entertain them, giggling as you look at Jungkook’s cheeks turn beet red. 

“What, Namjoon?! He does!” Jimin exclaims, taking a bite of his food. He throws his head back again as a laugh courses through his body, and he lands in Namjoon’s lap.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow in your direction, and you get caught in his gaze. Taehyung takes a long pause as he looks at you, before he releases the words from his lips.

“Well, he hates it when people call him oppa. That’s for sure.” Taehyung thinks he’s whispering just to you, but his deep tone causes the whole table to hear. Everyone laughs as Jungkook rolls his eyes. He looks down at his food before another blush overtakes his cheeks.

“Can we not talk about my little brother’s kinks at the dinner table?” Yoongi whines. 

Jin breaks into a wave of laughter that makes everyone else at the table laugh again. As Jin settles down from his laugh, Namjoon interjects.

“Anyway , we are happy for you Jungkook. We wish you two nothing but the best.” Namjoon says. He lifts his beer glass up and so does everyone else.

You all clink your glasses together in happiness, smiles plastered across all of your faces.

**

The room you share with the six other men is affixed with bunk beds, and Hobi is on the top bunk to yours. You and Jungkook are awake in the dark room, kissing as quietly as possible.

You run your hand down to Jungkook’s bulge, and he quietly inhales. You slip your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, tickling the skin there a bit. He fidgets a little until you pull your hand back out.

You spit on your hand and you put your hand back into his boxers, and onto his cock. He moans out airily before he realizes and purses his lips. You start to stroke him and you notice his body rising up and down with his quickening breaths.

“Oh, oppa, you’re so big.” You whisper breezily in Jungkook’s ear. He turns his head to look at you, and you can sense it’s a glare. You let out a quiet laugh, finally having something to torture him with.

“Hey, stop that! ” Hobi groans, and you and Jungkook freeze, biting your lip.

“No, no…not… snakeu …” Hobi murmurs, and you both realize he’s talking in his sleep. 

You and Jungkook let out a quiet laugh.

**

A FEW DAYS LATER

Jungkook runs toward a high-rise building that you’re standing in front of. Both you and Jungkook are dressed up in more formal clothes than usual.

The building is tall, sleek and futuristic. It’s so high that clouds swirl around its peak.

Jungkook’s holding two bouquets of red roses, and hands you one. You smell the bouquet, a somber look on your face as you stare into them. Jungkook steps forward to adjust your trench coat.

“You’re still nervous about me meeting them, right?” Jungkook asks. You nod, and Jungkook pulls you into an embrace. You don’t really hug him back. Jungkook notices, and lets out a deep breath.

**

You and Jungkook step off the elevator – and into a penthouse. The apartment is glossy, stark and completely devoid of any sort of charm.

“Wait here.” You say to Jungkook as you remove your trench coat and throw it on a coat rack.

Jungkook nods. He then moves to pace slowly around the place in awe. His shoes click across the marble floor. 

Jungkook is so engrossed that his back bumps into a man. He twirls around and his eyes widen as yours do. 

The man is average height with a plump belly, and he’s in a fitted suit.

“Ah, I’m so sorry!” Jungkook immediately takes a few bows.

A woman approaches the three of you as well. Her features are stark, and her hair perfectly coiffed. 

Jungkook bows at her as well. He hands her the bouquet of roses, and she looks at them, and then back to you.

You tiptoe over to Jungkook’s side, hooking your arm in his. 

“This is my boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook.” You say, trying to put on the best smile you can. 

Your father smiles, but your mother gives Jungkook a glare. 

Your mother calls over a housekeeper, and hands her the roses. Your mother whispers something in the ear of the housekeeper, and the woman hesitates for a second before nodding.

Your mother motions for all of you to follow her to the dining room.

Jungkook looks at you, but you don’t make eye contact with him.

**

The meal in front of you is beautiful and made with care, but the four of you eat in complete silence.

“So…how did the two of you come to meet?” Your father asks, his mouth full.

“We met at a park and-” Your mother clears her throat and you look at her.

“We met at a park. I watched her dog for a week when she was on vacation. We got along from there.” Your mother’s eyes lift in a glare to meet Jungkook’s.

“Remind me what you do for work again?” Your mother says curtly.

“I-I’m a personal trainer and I-” Jungkook stutters out and you glower at your mother.

“Whatever happened to that nice doctor you used to date?” Your mother sighs out, continuing on with her food. “He calls me asking for you all the time.” She shakes her head and looks down.

“Should I call and tell him you’ve snapped out of your phase? That you’re ready to date seriously again?” She asks, tilting her head. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw.

You stare her down and slam your utensils onto the table before storming out of the room.

As you head to the kitchen for some air from the conversation, you notice the roses Jungkook gave your mother are thrown in the garbage.

You lean back against the kitchen counter and sigh.

**

“We’re from two different worlds, don’t you get it? This isn’t going to work.” You say to Jungkook as you open the door to your apartment. You take your coat off and throw it on the couch.

“This is just the perfect excuse for you to push me away. Why do you care so much about what they think anyway?” Jungkook says as he grabs you by your arms, and spins you around to face him.

“They’re my parents, Jungkook! I have to care what they think!” You say, looking up at him.

“They’ve already lived their lives…they can’t dictate yours too.” Jungkook says as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t do this with you.” You whisper as you rip away from him. 

You pause, taking a moment before you look up at him.

“I seriously think we should date other people.” You say quietly as you cross your arms. 

“I’m in love with you. Isn’t what we have enough to make this whole thing work?” Jungkook pleads.

“It’s not, Jungkook. We need to end this.” You say, firmer.

 Jungkook looks at you, clenching his jaw. His eyes gloss over, and his hand balls into a fist.

“You know what? You’ve never even heard you say I love you back to me. So…maybe you’re right then. Maybe we should date other people.” Jungkook retorts back, and your eyes grow wild with tears.

“Get out…get out!” You yell at the top of your lungs. Your tears release from your eyes and trail down your face.

Jungkook backs up and walks to the door.  He takes a moment to shake his head at you before slamming the door shut.

You grab a nearby flowerpot and hurl it against the door to release the tension from your body.

You look at your trembling hand, and then drop to your knees and sob.

**

WEEKS LATER

Jungkook runs in the park at night at top speed. He finally reaches his limit and rests his hands on his knees, his lungs burning. He clutches his chest to find relief.

Jungkook looks over to the large oak tree where the two of you first met. 

Nothing.

He sighs, and checks his watch before resuming his run again.

**

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” Jungkook asks the girl sitting across from him. She’s closer to his age, and she’s typing at rapid speed on her phone.

“Wait, what?” She asks, looking up. 

“Wanna do a Tik Tok with me?” She says, popping her gum.

“Uh, not r-” She cuts him off and starts showing him her phone. 

“It’s really cool. You just gotta do…”

Her voice seems to trail off as Jungkook’s thoughts float elsewhere.

**

Jungkook sits in the dark on the couch with a sole lamp on. He pulls out his phone and sends a few messages.

[11:29 pm] JK: Can we plz make this work…

[12:31 am] JK: It’s been weeks

[12:45 am] JK: Pls answer me?

No response from you. 

He looks over to the other side of his bed, and it’s a crumpled mess.

It’s the spot where you used to sleep.

Jungkook rolls over to the empty side, and the shock of the cool covers stings his skin.

He puts his forearms over his eyes before sighs. 

Jungkook then he hears a quiet knock on his door.

**

Jungkook opens up the door and gives Jimin a firm hug. Jimin hugs him back, taken by surprise.

“You’re not doing okay at all, huh?” Jimin asks, looking at Jungkook’s crestfallen eyes.

Jimin sits down and pulls Jungkook’s head into his lap. 

“This is your first big heartbreak, huh?” Jimin says as he starts to stroke his fingers through Jungkook’s locks. Jungkook nods, and two tears dash from his eyes. He sniffs.

“Oh! Aw, Jungkookie. Please don’t cry!” Jungkook then erupts into loud sobs. 

Jimin looks down at him and wipes his tears away.

“Don’t cry, JK!” Jimin sits him up and dabs more at his tears as Jungkook sniffs.

“You love her right?” Jimin asks, holding Jungkook’s hands. Jungkook nods, trying to catch his breath.

“Then no matter what, you have to go get her.” Jimin says firmly, looking Jungkook in the eyes.

“Even if she’s never said it, that girl loves you. I mean, who the hell else can resist my charms this long but her?” Jimin giggles, and it makes Jungkook laugh a bit. 

“Right?” Jimin asks. 

Jungkook nods and crack a small smile.

**

A FEW DAYS LATER // PRESENT DAY

“So, how have you been?” The doctor asks you, and you smile. 

He’s the doctor you used to date. He’s clean-cut and all-business.

“I’ve been fantastic, really. Work is wonderful, and I’m really glad you took me up on this offer.” You say as you take a sip of your drink.

The two of you are in a swanky bar, and the air is tinged with notes of bourbon and whiskey. Raindrops tittle the ground outside, and a cool breeze floats in through a cracked window.

“Happy to. I missed some of our nights together.” He says, taking a sip of his drink. You feign a laugh as you throw your head back.

“I’m a little less busy now that I’ve moved up the ranks a bit.” He mentions. He looks through his brows at you before taking another sip of his drink.

“Shall we get going?” He asks, giving you a smirk. You nod, and he slips your coat on you. 

The two of you walk out arm in arm under your umbrella.

As you step out of the bar, you’re hit by a man walking by.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, buddy.” The doctor says sternly to the man.

The man has a black cap on, and his face is fully covered by a face mask. 

You happen to look into the man’s eyes. You furrow your brows.

It’s unmistakable. 

They’re Jungkook’s.

“Hey, do you know this guy?” The doctor asks, looking at you. 

You look back to Jungkook and his eyes widen in anticipation. You narrow your eyes.

“I don’t think I do. Let’s go.” You grab onto the doctor’s arm and continue walking. 

Jungkook turns around, watching the two of you walk away.

You turn around one more time as you walk, and your eyes meet Jungkook’s.

**

The doctor makes it to your doorstep. You fiddle with your key for a moment before feeding it into the lock. The doctor removes your coat – and his – and then places both on the coat rack.

Your phone buzzes a few times and you pull it out to check your messages.

[1:19 am] JK: Can I plz talk to u?

[1:19 am] JK: I’ve been trying to reach u for weeks…

[1:20 am] JK: Pls

You quickly lock your phone as the doctor approaches you.

“I’m so happy I can spend most of my nights like this now.” The doctor says as he gets closer. You look down at the ground. He nears you and tries to kiss you, but you turn your head as you look up at him.

“I really think you should leave.” You say, as he furrows his brows. You cross your arms.

“Whatever . You’ll regret this again.” He says, pointing at you. He grabs this coat and slams the door shut.

You lock the door, and then move to your balcony and pick up your phone, looking at it. 

[26 UNREAD MESSAGES]

“No, no, no.” You whisper repeatedly to yourself, as if in a trance. The vines that hang from your balcony are withered, and a few broken flowerpots align the floor. 

Your eyes are unfocused as you look out into the distance. Your body goes numb, and black streaks start to stain your face as tears run down your cheeks. Your eyes become bloodshot as you continue to look out onto the dark horizon.

Another tear drifts down from one of your eyes – slipping into a crevice of your lips. You taste the salt as the tear hits your tongue and you quickly lift a hand to rub it away.

Your phone rings, snapping you from your daze. 

It’s Jungkook.

“I can’t do this with you right now!” You scream into your phone. You squeeze the phone tightly in your hand, the cool metal pressing into your skin. You look at the phone trembling in your hand for a moment before hurtling it into a wall. 

A loud crash rings through the air as the glass screen shatters into a million shards on the floor.

Your body crumples into itself and you start to sob. Hot tears stream down your face as you dig your nails into your scalp – and you attempt to gasp for air as you cry.

Miri scampers into the room, whining as she observes you for a moment. She hops into your lap and licks your lips and cheeks to try to calm you.

It’s no use.

You only snap out of your haze as you hear banging at your door.

You run to your door and look through the peephole. 

“Jungkook, please! Leave me alone!” You steady yourself with your hands on the door.

“Please…just let me talk to you!” Jungkook pleads through the door.

Your breath picks up as you place your back to the door. You stand there and ponder for a few moments. 

You let out a sigh – pulling the door open.

Jungkook looks down at you as his chest heaves. 

A tear falls down his cheek as he studies you, trying to find any glimmer of hope.

“Why won’t you leave me alone? Why, Jungkook?” You implore. 

You look into his dark eyes again, and they’re swirling with emotions. 

More tears fall down your eyes as he moves in quickly to pick you up.

The two of you kiss each other feverishly – in a dazzling display of sweat, tears and limbs. Kisses, moans and breaths fill the once vacant air. You both remove your clothes quickly and Jungkook enters you. The two of you never utter a word as your bodies do the talking. 

After a few moments, you instantly climax, and your hands are twined in his shirt for a second as the two of you catch your breath. Your chest heaves for a moment before you get off Jungkook.

“You have to leave, Jungkook.” You don’t make eye contact with him as he slips his clothes back on. He takes one more look at you before he leaves.

You collapse onto your knees as you shut the door.

**

“But I’m so scared , Yuna.” You say as you pull your shaking hands to cover your face. 

“I feel like I’ve messed up everything I’ve ever had with him.” You continue, shaking your head. You start to break down into tears and Yuna throws an arm around you. 

She massages and brushes your head with her hands.

“Do you love him, though?” You stop crying and you look up at her and wipe your tears. You close your eyes and sigh before giving her a silent nod.

“I really think he’s the one. But I’ve definitely pushed him away because of my parents…and what they’d think. What they do think.” You lament, bursting into another wave of tears.

“Oh, no, baby. Honey, have you seen the way he looks at you? That boy loves you. He’d do anything for you. Endure anything with you.” Yuna assures you, stroking your head.

“And how could you know?” You wail.

“Because he told me himself.” Yuna says, and your eyes widen.

“Honey, this is your life, and you have to live it.” Yuna thumbs off the remaining tears from your face as you look at her.

“You have to tell him before it’s too late.” Yuna whispers. 

You sniff, still looking at Yuna.

**

Jungkook sprints in the park at dawn. 

He stops as he looks over to the large oak tree where the two of you first met. 

This time, he sees you there.

You curled into a ball, but Miri’s barks and the light crunch of leaves under Jungkook’s feet alert you to his presence.

You lose the breath from your lungs as you look up at him, and it feels as if time’s stopped.

You slowly rise to your feet as Jungkook watches you. The cool fall air billows from your mouths as you take hefty breaths out.

“Jungkook.” You whisper, as your eyes start to well up with tears. 

You cover your mouth as you look at him.

The two of you stand in silence for a moment as you look at each other.

Jungkook sighs and looks down before looking back up at you. 

He lifts a hand up to cup your face, and you let your head rest in it.

“Please. Understand me when I say this…these last few weeks have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Jungkook says, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, and I just can’t give that up.” Jungkook says, his voice shaking as his eyes fill with tears.

You take a moment to think before you raise your hand to touch his.

“Believe me…I’ve tried it too. But I can’t do this without you. I just can’t.” You say, exasperated.

The both of you search one another’s eyes and understand that you’ve both found your way home.

“Jungkook. I’ve been meaning to tell you something all this time. I was just too…scared to.” You say, as more tears run down your eyes. You sniff before looking up at him.

“What is it?” He furrows his brows, and looks at you.

“Jungkook…I-I love you. Since the day we met, I’ve loved you.” You whisper, still looking at him.

Jungkook releases his brows and looks at you for a moment. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, and lifts your chin up. A tear makes its way down his cheek as your lips melt together for the first time in a long time. 

After a while, Jungkook lifts his lips from yours and opens his eyes to look at you.

“I love you, too. ” Jungkook says breathlessly.

The two of you nudge your noses together and embrace.

“To think this all started over a dog and some plants, right?” Jungkook chuckles. 

You nod and then chuckle into his warm chest as you let out a sigh of relief.

notes: thank you again for following me on my first fic journey! an assortment of works to come this month, so stay tuned! (▰˘◡˘▰)

navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale

[kathyprior4200]

Helluva Boss Episode Remakes!

 Not too far away from Pentagram City lay a shady place in the bowels of Hell. “Welcome to Imp City: est. 1981” was posted on a worn wooden sign with a white painted eye toward the top. Under a crimson sky, a wide array of buildings made up the city, some with spikes on the roofs. Downtrodden imps of various colors and sizes mulled around the streets and ghettos. Mugging, sex, drugs, poverty, and murder were common aspects of their everyday afterlives. Indeed, being considered “lesser demons” and the “lowest of the low,” not very many had opportunities granted to them.

 Well, save for a unique family of imps, trying to get their business running.

 Just who were these imps?

 A nearby screen showed old fashioned numbers ticking down, 3, 2, and 1. Blitzo, a red and white faced imp, appeared on stage in front of purple open curtains. “Hi there! I’m Blitzo! The “O” is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.!” He put out his hand and the logo appeared above it. The “M” in I.M.P. looked like imp horns, black and white in color. Down below were the words “Immediate Murder Professionals.”

 Blitzo spoke again. “Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?”

 A picture of Blitzo with a mustache and two black top hats over his horns was grinning evilly as a building burned in the background. The sign nearby read “Orphanage for elderly, blind, and newborn dogs.”

 “Or are you an innocent soul who just happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next image showed Blitzo in a white angel costume, happily throwing away a Styrofoam coffee cup in a wastepaper basket instead of a recycling bin in an office.

 In the next shot, Blitzo held up a sign which read “Some guy who hired us!” A buff horned red demon wearing a white Ohio shirt stood not too far from the camera, a 666 News billboard in the background. He punched one fist into his hand.

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the state of Ohio killed me. I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body.”

 Blitzo appeared again, this time with his fellow imps Millie and Moxxie in the background. A white-clothed altar with a mirror and skulls on it was in the very back. White candles were spread around the room. The two imps were sitting at a pentagram drawn on the floor. Blitzo held a blue Satanic ritual book in his hand.

 “Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…”

 He waved his hand and a flaming portal appeared in the center of the room, causing Moxxie and Millie to scatter.

 “…we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!” He happily fell through the portal on his back like it was a mosh pit.

 Then the musical jingle started:

 “When you want somebody gone

And you don’t wanna wait too long

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals”

  “Hand grenade or cyanide

We’ll make it look like suicide

The Immediate Murder Professionals”

 “We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell…”

 “We’ll kill your husband or you wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife,

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals.

 Kids die for freeee!”

  A white person appeared with a thought bubble of his enemy with a red x. A demon fell to the floor and the person looked up. The I.M.P. logo appeared, silhouettes of Millie with a spear, Moxxie with a gun and Blitzo in the middle, spreading out his arms to make an “M.”

 Fast paced shots flashed through the ad.

 Moxxie throwing a grenade out a window as his companions grinned.

 Blitzo hanging a person in an office building while Moxxie watched. Millie held a suicide note in her hand.

 Then more killing scenes flashed: Blitzo electrocuting a person, Millie using a mace, Moxxie choking his victim.

 Blitzo led the way through a portal to Earth, Millie and Moxxie following. Moxxie tripped on a book and landed on his face while the others posed. They then stood up shocked…at the people in a church staring at them in confusion.

 Millie killed a naked couple with a chainsaw while Blitzo looked greedily at a woman’s underwear.

 Blitzo repeatedly stabbed someone else tied up near a “Blitzo show” sign at a circus.

 The three imps used more methods to kill Earthlings: Medieval torture racks, shark attacks, fire and gasoline on someone, pillow suffocation, crushing someone to death with a grand piano, the electric chair for a prisoner…

 “Kids die for freeeee!” ended the ad.

 Moxxie and Millie sang a murder love song in their living room before the meeting. Moxxie played on his purple demon-face guitar as Millie watched him with love in her eyes. It reminded them of the good times when they would shot at demons together in the streets, drag a bloody sack behind them and when Millie got a grenade as a present and used it to blow up a building.

  “Oh what a thrill when the crimson starts to spill

And my Millie goes in for the kill

She takes away my breath

She’s the angel of death for me

Oh Millie

She a queen, it’s like a dream

When I hear her victims start to scream

Get him out of the sack

She’s a maniac for me

Oh Millie

When the blood starts dripping down the sides

And the bodies start to fall from the skies

My heart skips a beat

When my Millie’s guns a blazing in the night

That’s in love

She makes the murdering fun for me”

 Both of them hummed before Moxxie finished,

  “Of all the imps in Hell…

Millie joined in, “It’s for him that I fell…

“Oh Millie.” They leaned in for a kiss.

  They paused. Moxxie yelled, while looking out the window. His boss, Blitzo was pressed against the window with a video camera. “Are you fucking filming us right now?!”

 Moxxie sighed, as a smiling Blitzo held up a sign which read “Meeting in 20 min: nice job banging yo’ wife!”

  Just before the meeting, the head imp, Blitzo walked into the receptionist room.

 “Blitz!” called Loona, the hellhound, holding a bone shaped phone in her hand. “That clingy rich asshole’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you!” Then she added in a lower voice, “Sounds a little DTFy.” (Down to Fuck)

 Blitzo spilled water on himself as he talked with Moxxie by the water cooler. “Oh god that was one time! We wouldn’t have access to the living world…if I hadn’t slept with that privileged asshole!”

 “You what?” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “Blitz!” Loona barked in outrage.

 “I heard you already!” Blitzo yelled. He stomped into his office and picked up his red cell phone. He played with little bobble heads of his imp coworkers, Moxxie and Millie. Signs were tacked to the wall, reading: “The Incredible Blitzo! One night only! Tickets now at the Big Top!”

 “So…” Blitzo beamed nervously, “What can I do you for this time, Stolas?”

 The owl overlord replied, lounging on his couch in a royal red robe and a crown.

 “Remember that time when I told you that a political candidate was causing problems up on Earth for a few of my associates? That he tried to convince people that global warming existed?”

 “Yes?” Blitzo answered.

 “And that it does, but more people die when nothing’s done about it? Oh, how lonely I felt.”

 “Okay well, yeah that makes sense,” Blitzo said.

 “But now…” he hooted in laughter. “There are tons of new sinners coming down here every day! I just had a feast and a murder party several nights ago. I wondered why a horde of people arrived and it’s because of a disease called the coronavirus! My, it’s the best thing to ever happen since my wedding with my queen Melody and my darling daughter Octavia’s graduation from flight school. Oh, how marvelous!”

 “Well…I’m very happy for you, sir,” Blitzo said. “I hope that…corn-ah virus does its thing.”

 Stolas sighed. “My wife wasn’t happy with me, though. She said you fell onto a cake in the middle of a lunch with her and the royal officials. What did you say to her?”

 “I said…’sorry I fucked your husband.’” He gulped.

 A tense silence.

 Blitzo examined his chest and arms. “I still have the talon scars and peck marks to prove it.”

 “And she also said that you stole one of my books, is that true?”

 “No! No way!” Blitzo lied, with a nervous laugh. “That was another imp long ago. Can I tell you how great it felt…sleeping with you?”

 “Indeed,” Stolas agreed with a contented sigh. “Your sharp horns and claws ruffling through my feathers, and my talons and beak exploring your multicolored flesh. You know what happens when I’m lonely, Blitzy?”

 “Oh, god fucking dammit…” Blitzo muttered to himself.

 Stolas’ eyes grew red. “When I’m lonely, I become hungry. And when I’m become hungry…I want to choke on that red dick of yours!  **** your ***** then lick all of your *****, before taking out your **** and **** with more teeth until you’re screaming ******** like a fucking baby!”

 Blitzo hung up the phone, the words on Stolas’ picture reading “creepy mouth: aka one night stand bird dick.” and smashed it with a rotary phone. He threw the pieces into a blender and mixed it up.

 “Eat this!” he told Loona who walked in and drank the red liquid.

 “And then you know that bridge over the freeway?” he asked.

 “Yeah?”

 “Shit off it! It’s time for the meeting, let’s go.”

  The imps currently resided in a tall office building that seemed to stand out among the other structures. Along with spikes jutting from the roof and sides, there were a pair of giant black and white imp horns attached to the sides of the building for decoration. The lights inside near the top floor were on.

 Posted on a door were the words “I.M.P. Headquarters” with “IMP Meeting in Progress” written on a piece of paper taped to the door, a smiley face off to the side.

 On a white board was a bar graph and a line graph, the line graph pointing lower at a drawing of a raging horned demon. “Fix this shit!” was written in big bold letters that took up much of the board. “Blitzo is the best, by Blitzo” was scribbled off to the side. Several tall chairs with spikes jutting from the top boarders were set near a brown table in the center of the room. A white pentagram was drawn in the center of the table.

 Up front, a black, white, and red colored imp paced back and forth, sprouting long curved striped horns: Blitzo. He wore black fingerless gloves with what looked like a yellow eye design on each glove. He was dressed in a slender navy blue business suit with light red buttons. A small round pink pin with black eyes and a stitched mouth was attached onto a red undershirt below his slender chin. What looked like a black two-clawed print mark lay over his red forehead. Along with sharp teeth, the imp has red iris eyes with yellow sclera. Like a typical devil, he also had a red pointed tail. He had four red finger-shaped claws on each hand.

 Blitzo began to speak, pacing back and forth. He looked toward his audience of two imps and a hellhound sitting on chairs around a table.

 “Alright, now I know business has been…a bit slow, lately, yes.”

 He mentioned to the board at the downward sloping line. “In fact, there seems to be less people seeking out our services; 1,056 in comparison to the 1,066 from last month. We’ve basically spiraled from the True Blue Market to that of the Raging Bull.” He pointed at the roaring demon head drawing on the board.

 “Shouldn’t it be the Bull Market is good and the Bear Market is bad?” said a voice.

 “Loona, nobody cares,” Blitzo said. He continued.

 “Any decrease could spell disaster for us, not to mention how lots of people use our services and yet look down on us.”

  Blitzo cleared his throat and spread out his hands. “It’s no one’s fault, okay? I’m not naming any names here…Moxxie.”

 Moxxie raised his eyebrows in a “what the hell?” gesture as Blitzo looked at him. The serious imp had a red face, yellow eyes, white hair framing his face and stripped horns jutting off to the sides in slight curves. He wore a large red bow-tie and a navy blue suit. White freckles were present under his eyes.

 Blitzo continued, “Now does anyone have any bright ideas on how we can get business drumming up again?”

 Millie, the bubbly imp raised her hand. She had a red face, messy black hair with a white flower patch near the top, and short black horns with faint white stripes. Her eyes were also yellow and she wore a black top, black torn pants, high heeled shoes and a little black choker around her neck. Her eyelashes extended past her face.

 Millie waved her hand and beamed, eyes shining. “What…about…a car wash?!”

 “This is Hell, Millie. No one cares about cars being clean here, okay?”

 Just then, there came a coughing from the other room. A small cyclops demon with hot pink hair with a patch of yellow opened the door and walked in. She brushed off soot from her hot pink skirt and waved at the group, who stared in surprise.

 “Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of I.M.P.?”

 “Uh yes?” Blitzo replied, unsure of what to make of this random maid.

 “Oh great, because one of my friends sent me here to investigate, he’s a busy chap, you know, and oh so dreamy!”

 She darted around the room and began removing cobwebs from the windows. “It looks like there are two men, a woman and a dog here, a nice balance.”

 Loona, the grey hellhound glared at Niffty, narrowing her red eyes. “What was that, you little shit?”

 Loona had a red cell phone in her clawed paws, the back of the phone displaying a black upside down cross. She wore a grey top with black strings in the shape of an inverted pentagram. A spiked collar was around her neck. Her pants were dark and torn, with a white crescent moon on them. Her feet were bare and her hair and tail were thick with white and dark fur.

 Niffty stopped in her tracks. “Now, did you guys need any cars to be washed?”

 Blitzo shook his head. “We don’t have any cars here, we’re broke as fuck.”

 Millie stared at Niffty and cupped her own cheeks with her hands. “Oh my Satan! She’s so adorable! Can we keep her?!”

 “No!” Moxxie and Loona said at the same time. The two workers then glared at each other.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Do you mind?!” He pointed to the door.

 Niffty laughed nervously, “Oh okay, sorry about that, hehhehheh. I’ll be outside if you need me!”

 She scurried out of the room.

 Blitzo paused for a moment, then said, “Oh right! Ideas for our company!” He waved his hands, his eyes shining. “Ooh, what about a billboard?”

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We can’t afford a billboard, sir.”

 Blitzo rushed over and held Moxxie in a headlock. His voice was rushed and sarcastic, “Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you’re in the room right now.” He shoved Moxxie away.

 Blitzo stared in frustration. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

 He picked up a remote and turned on an old fashioned TV.

 After static appeared on screen, the footage showed the group killing off individuals.

 Blitzo bashing a red demon’s head with a mullet.

Moxxie shooting a blue person tied up to a chair.

Loona grabbing a red person in her mouth and shaking the person side to side like a wolf.

Millie beheading a blue person with a spear and laughing.

 Blitzo watched with a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a blue bowl of popcorn. Loona sat on the table, popping popcorn pieces into her mouth. Millie was perched on the table, enjoying the show, but Moxxie stood off to the side with a grumpy face.

 Posters hung from the walls, one showing Blitzo and his two sisters, Tilla (an imp with long black hair) and Barbie Wire (a smiling imp with ram-like horns.) It was a picture of them at a circus, the banner reading “The Amazing Imp Siblings!” Blitzo remembered the good times he had with them when they performed on stage. Barbie Wire would balance on a tightrope, holding a pole with flames on either end. Tilla tamed and evaded manticores, dragons and other beasts that were released into the arena. Blitzo would sing songs about murdering people and they would all pose and bow at the end as the crowd cheered.

 That was before Blitzo moved on to form I.M.P. recruited Moxxie and Millie, and adopted Loona.

 Blitzo moved his hand toward his chest and sighed with content. “Ahh, those were the good times.”

 Moxxie spoke up as Millie ate a piece of popcorn. “I don’t need any reminding, sir, considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week. One that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel, nobody watches.”

 Blitzo turned his head, insulted. “Uh, hey, excuse me.” He stood up. “What’s “obnoxious” about a super-fun jingle, all right? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spittin’ bullshit!”

 He walked across the room.

 “People love musicals, sir,” Millie added.

 Blitzo smiled. “Exactly, Millie, and we’re basically doin’ a musical.” Blitzo did jazz hands before pointing rapidly at Moxxie with a scowl.

 “Are you gonna crush my musical theatre dreams like my dad did?” He lowered his head.

 “Sir…” Moxxie began, but his boss cut him off.

 “Because right now, all I see is just my dad’s asshole talking to me! Crushing my dreams of being who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

 Millie leaned in toward her husband and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Moxxie?”

 “I…what?” he asked, looking at her. Millie leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, tail curling. “I thought I knew you.” Moxxie rolled his eyes; his wife loved to annoy him.

 Blitzo turned back to Moxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Moxxie. After I made you employee of the month!” He held a picture of Moxxie with his mouth open in a roar, snake tongue showing.

 Moxxie threw up his hands, “Okay, sir! I’m sorry, a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theatre. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

 “I liked it!” Millie pipped up.

 Moxxie turned to her, finger shaking, “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 Loona sat, bored, playing on her phone. Moxxie’s head appeared on the screen but was crushed by a weight and then blown up by a bomb. At one point his face was sliced in half as “boom!” flashed across the screen.

 “Remember when we shot that kid on Earth?” Blitzo asked.

 Moxxie got a flashback. “Oh, right. I shot that boy who was walking around licking strawberry ice cream. It was an accident. He was taken on a stretcher to the hospital.”

 The pink haired nurse had said, “Doctor, he’s not responding!”

 “Cool water, stat!” The blue-haired man had said next. He slammed water down on the boy and said, “It didn’t do anything!”

 The doctor had said, “Damn it! I’m not losing another one! “Clear!” Then they had shocked him and the boy somehow woke up with a gasp. The doctor said “Holy shit, it actually worked.”

 Millie then explained that the three of them sat in the waiting room. Blitzo read a magazine while Millie comforted Moxxie. The doctor had said to the imps, “He appears to be in stable condition, but he’ll need surgery. Now what insurance provider do you freaks have?”

 Then Blitzo asked, “The fuck is insurance?”

 Moxxie sighed, “…and then they kicked us and the boy out and we fell back into Hell.”

  A moment later, Moxxie spoke, hands forward in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Loona’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It’s very simple.”

 “Oh, sit on a dick, Moxxie,” Loona replied without looking up.

 Moxxie stuttered angrily, looking for a comeback. “You sit! Sit on…a… and the d...do your job!” He slammed his palm on the table.

 Blitzo scolded him. “Hey, now we don’t blame our screw-ups on Loona, okay? She didn’t do anything wrong!” He hugged her and nuzzled his head against her cheek, the hellhound growling at him to get off.

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful.”

 Lonna looked at her phone. “The other day, right? I answered the puppy barking phone and said ‘Hello, I.M.P.’ Millie was yelling, ‘Loona, I got stabbed! Call Mox…’ and then I hung up. Wasn’t my problem. My Hellhound Monthly magazine was much more interesting.”

 “Don’t forget about my adoption anniversary gift I gave you,” Blitzo said, scratching his neck.

 Lonna seethed. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t a cure for syphilis, I didn’t want it, and it so happened to be black spiders, crawling all over me!”

 “Again, I’m sorry it was spiders,” Blitzo said.

 “God damn it, apology not accepted.”

 “You should be thankful that I rescued you after your hellhound family kicked you out,” Blitzo remarked.

 Loona’s ears twitched. Millie stared nervously. “I was perfectly capable of fending for myself,” barked Loona, looking up from her phone for the first time. “There was nothing special about them, other than all the alcohol, meth and drugs they took. My parents never cared about us. I mean, they sent off my other siblings to work for other overlords and were never seen again. Perhaps I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with them.”

 Blitzo had tears in his eyes. He hugged her again. “Well, at least you’ve got me, Moxxie, and Millie as your new family!”

 Loona hid a smile and just bared her fangs. “Get off of me before I bite your face off!”

 Blitzo stepped back.

 Loona then smiled and looked at Moxxie, a look of mischief in her red eyes.

 Moxxie scowled. “Excuse me, did you just fax me an ad for weight loss the other day?”

 “No,” Loona answered. “I was busy watching the princess sing.”

 “Wha-Why…Why would anyone send me that?!” Moxxie argued.

 “Come on, you know why.” She smirked.

 “I’m not chubby, thank you very much! Not to mention, you were the one who ate my avocado salad lunch! How rude.”

 “I took it because I had the worst hangover.”

 “But why would you drink on a work night?” Millie asked.

 “I was hungover from that morning, dumbasses!” Loona said to Moxxie and Millie. “I couldn’t take your assaults. So I decided to blow some fucking steam! I kicked a baby in a carriage and caused some destruction. Felt good afterwards.”

 Blitzo mentioned to Loona. “Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family and you don’t get rid of family.”

 “We aren’t a family, sir!” Moxxie pointed out. “You are the boss! We are the employees! You treat her like she’s some troubled teenager! She’s more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phone!”

 Loona flipped him the bird.

 “That is offensive!” said Blitzo, walking to the window, pulling open the blinds. “Without homeless people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life!”

  Outside, a homeless imp with a broken horn and ragged grey clothing held up a sign that read “Monee helps. Satan Bless.” An imp woman with black clothing and little bat wings blushed at Blitzo who waved and did a playful raise of eyebrows before closing the blinds.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?”

 “Come on, sweetie, it’s not that big a deal!” Millie said.

 Moxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me, what?! I asked you, ‘Honey, can you get the butter?’ You said, ‘sure sweetie’.”

 “Spoiler alert, the butter’s spoiled!” Blitzo added. Millie giggled.

  “He was in our fucking fridge! He was spying on me while I was asleep. And worse, he fucking filmed me and you while we were singing and about to kiss!”

 Blitzo giggled. “I still have it on camera.”

 “It’s fine, honey,” Millie replied to Moxxie, patting his shoulder. “The “spoiler alert, butter’s spoiled!” was a funny use of wordplay Blitzo used.”

 “Why was he in our fridge anyway?” Moxxie countered. “And then I was dreaming that my parents were being murdered and Blitzo interrupted it. I wanted to get back to that.”

 “I was just curious,” Blitzo responded.

 “Just. Stop. Doing. That,” Moxxie growled.

 “I don’t see what the issue is!” said Blitzo. “Is there something you don’t want me seeing?” A mischievous silly look crossed his face.

 “No!” Moxxie spat, eye twitching.

 “You a baby weiner havor?” Blitzo asked, another term for a small dick.

 Loona giggled under her breath.

Moxxie was fed up. “Sir, what you say and how you act is totally inappropriate!”

 Millie pulled him down gently. “Calm down, Mox, you’re gonna have another panic attack!”

 “I am calm!” he yelled.

 Millie rubbed his head and soothed him. “Shh, there, there.” Moxxie whimpered.

 Blitzo spoke again with a childish grin, making a hole with two fingers and tapping the opening with one finger. “Look, I don’t judge the boring couple stuff you do outside of work hours, so don’t judge me.”

 Veins popped out of Moxxie’s yellow eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.” He crossed his arms as Millie gasped in horror.

 “Mox, he’s our boss!”

 “No, no, no, it’s fine, Mills,” said Blitzo with a wave of his hand. “Your husband is just…how do I say this without being offensive…retarded.”

 “Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single, life?”

 Blitzo leaned in toward Moxxie. “It actually does.”

 Loona appeared to agree, because she added to Moxxie, “The only reason you have a wife is because you’re easy to manage!”

 Moxxie gasped. She had called Moxxie submissive.

 “No he’s not, you bitch!” Millie yelled, holding up two middle fingers.

 “Do not talk to my assistant that way!” Blitzo demanded. “She’s sensitive!”

 “Yes I am!” Loona barked.

 Then a squeaky voice sounded from nearby: “You guys are all fucking assholes.”

 Everyone turned and stared at a boy wearing an orange shirt with a planet on it. He had brown hair, a blue baseball cap on and was connected to a monitor.

 Blitzo pointed at him. “Oh shut up, kid, you’re lucky to witness this.”

 Moxxie pinched his nose and sighed in frustration. “Ugh, this company is such a mess!”

 “Did someone call me?” Niffty’s voice rang from the hallway. She opened the door a crack. “I can clean up any messes you may have!”

 “No!” Moxxie called. “Go away!”

 Niffty slowly closed the door.

 An awkward silence…

 “Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Blitzo said out of nowhere.

 “Nobody was talking about that,” Loona mentioned.

 “Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling. So how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The kid pointed his finger at Blitzo. He ripped off the wires from his stomach.

 “It’s been a literal hell pretending to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn’t kill me, but now? I want that. I want death. You!” he pointed to Blitzo. “You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I’m a kid! We’re supposed to like clowns…even the creepy ones!”

 Moxxie scoffed. “Hey now, that’s not very…”

 The kid cut him off. “If I wanted to hear from a spineless jackass, I’d rip out your spine and ask you some shit.”

 Moxxie shivered in fear.

 “That’s my husband you’re talking to!” Millie yelled.

 The kid snickered. “That’s your husband?! I figured you for a slut, but I didn’t know you needed dick that bad!”  

 Millie fumed at her husband being called ugly and weak. To think that she would have sex with anyone else at random…

 “And you!” The kid pointed at Loona.

 “What? What about me?” Loona asked.

 The kid crossed his arms. “Nothing. I don’t talk to dogs. I’m a cat person.”

 Loona whined.

 “Wow,” said Blitzo. “You know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit.”

 “Yeah, after all, he’s kind of a piece of shit,” Moxxie muttered.

 A ding came from Loona’s phone. She smiled. “Oh fuck! Guys, I just got a text from our client. Guess he was the right target after all.”

 “Who?” Blitzo asked.

 “Him.”

 “Me?” asked the kid.

 “Yep,” she confirmed.

 “They wanted us to kill an actual child?” Blitzo asked.

 “That’s what they’re sayin’,” Loona said.

 Blitzo grinned and twirled a gun in his hand. His job just got more fun and easier. “Well Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god!” He fired and shot the boy in the chest. He flopped down dead in a pool of blood, smoke and sparks lingering in the air.

 Blitzo spoke about I.M.P.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can! Like killing people! So, from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money… is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review, but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Hell and no one fucking cares.”

 Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie kicked the dead kid on the floor, enjoying themselves. Loona snapped a picture with her phone and recorded the scene. After the imps left with the body, Niffty came in and gasped.

 “Well, time to clean this up. What a mess!” She hummed a happy tune as she mopped up the blood at rapid speed.

 Blitzo and Moxxie wore gas masks and green suits as Blitzo sawed off the boy’s arm and Moxxie sawed his chest, organs spilling out into a sack below. Millie tossed an arm into the sack and Loona helped hold open the sack. Moxxie dropped the boy’s severed head inside and shared a loving smile with his wife.

 Etched in red graffiti on a dumpster behind them were the words “Devil,” “Hell,” “Happy Hotel,” and “I’m always chasing rainbows.” A pentagram, and wide smiles were also doodled on the surface.

 Blitzo embraced the entire group in a forceful hug, knocking the phone from Loona’s hands.

 “You know, even though this kid was a target, he’s still a child. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” He wrapped his long tail around the group, all of them smiling genuinely. For despite all their problems, they were still a company family.

 Back in the human world, a crying blonde mother wearing a pink shirt and a necklace held up a paper saying “missing boy.” Below in large letters read on the news: “Mom sucks at drawing own kid!” Words say “There is a missing boy!’ and “Yet another missing kid!”

 The mother spoke into the microphone, “Please! If anyone has seen my little Eddie, please contact us at…”

 She gasped as a sack dropped into her hands. She and the news reporter looked up to see a smiling Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie through a portal up above.

 “You’re welcome!” Blitzo called with a wave before the portal closed.

 The mother looked inside the bag and screamed. “My son! He’s dead! Noooo!”

Part One: Mrs. Mayberry

Once upon a time, there was an innocent lovely blonde teacher named Mrs. Mayberry who taught at a typical schoolhouse. She was born many years ago on July 24th.

 She taught at a red schoolhouse with a little golden bell at the top of it. “Learning is fun,” was written in bright yellow letters on the side of the building with art of colorful kites and a rainbow on it. A sign at the front read “Puppies Junior School” in sunlight. There were tall green trees and a playground off to the side. The golden bell rang for the start of the day. A blue jay and a cardinal sang from a tree branch as the teacher opened the white curtains.

 The Vivziepop lookalike woman wrote “Good morning!” in white chalk on the green blackboard.

  “Good morning!” She twirled in a dance, catching her piece of chalk. She wore a white shirt with colorful red cherries and a long blue-gray skirt. A green pendant rested on her shirt. She wore cherry earrings and round yellow glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a flower-like shape behind her. “Have a bright and sunny day” was written on a poster with a large smiling sun with big eyes on it. Nearby was a calendar and an old boxy computer on a desk. A white daisy was in a flower pot. “The word of the day is harmony,” was written on a schedule posted on a board behind the children sitting at desks. The orange curtains by the windows had white math symbols on it. The schedule read “math, history, reading, grammar, science, art and music” as the many school subjects for the days of the week.

 “I hope you all did your homework!” she trilled.

  The children nodded with a dance to their bodies. One boy wearing an orange shirt spun around in a stool wearing a dunce cap and he faced the wall. The class broke out randomly into song.

 “We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!”

 The teacher sang, “And when I throw out these fun questions, you should know just what to do.”

 “Okay!” they cheered, arms in the air.

 She wrote on the board 2 + 6 = 8 and added,

“Two plus six is…”

 “Eight!” the class answered.

 “And good behavior’s…”

 “Great!” they chimed in.

 “And now it’s that part of the class when we say the time of day and date.”

 “It’s nine in the morning,” sang a blonde boy…

 “On January 8th…” added a black girl.

 “The sun is out smiling,” said a brown haired girl with a bow.

 “And it’s your husband’s birthday!” reminded the dunce boy with his tongue out.

 As the class sang “la la la,” the teacher found herself scrapping her chalk down in a line on the board. Sweat coated her forehead as the chalk was almost completely broken down. The singing was a constant drone in her head. Her right eye twitched and she turned around.

 “Oh my stars, stop singing children! Hush up now!”

 The class fell silent.

 She put a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it’s my husband’s birthday! I didn’t get him anything special.”

 The brown haired girl stood up and said, “Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!”

 The teacher and kids gathered around the boxy computer. At the husband’s house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read “wifey” on it.

 The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

 The teacher’s husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!

 A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.

 “We won’t be needing this,” a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry’s face on the other side.

The teacher sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

 “Oh yeah,” the husband giggled, “Not there, not there.” They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.

 With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

 Dark thoughts suddenly festered within the woman and she gripped the girl’s neck before tossing her up in the air through the roof. She stomped out of the room and shut the door. The children ran to the window to watch as she got in her old green car and plowed through a white picket fence. “I love school” was on her license plate. The children rushed to the computer.

 The door to the bedroom was quickly pulled open.

 “Oh shit, sweetie!” said her husband, caught in the act of fucking the young lady on their master bed. “What are you doing here?”

 “Shut up, Jarold!” A newfound rage flared in her eyes. A deadly looking riffle was in her hands. She fired several shots.

 The blonde lady shrieked as Mrs. Mayberry moved closer.

 “You scream like a fish!” the teacher mentioned to the blonde haired lady.

 With a demonic yell, she brutally shot the younger woman across multiple areas of her body. Thick blood splattered everywhere.

 Her husband gasped. “Oh god, what have you done?! She had a family!”

 “We could’ve had a family!” the teacher sobbed, in a flood of despair and rage. She picked up a bullet and shot her husband square in the head. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

 “Oh god, what have I done?” she asked, frazzled, whipping away the blood from the screen. She saw her children stare in horror and disgust. “In front you all.” She broke down into tears, seeing her dead husband in a pool of blood.  She spoke her last words through sobs. “I’m so sorry my children. Don’t forget to work on your timestamps.”

 Mrs. Mayberry knew there was nothing left for her but jail time and grief. There was only one other option. With shaking hands, she shot herself in the chest with a yelp. The children fainted on the floor one by one at the traumatizing sight. The policeman took the wailing blonde lady to the hospital…and found Mrs. Mayberry’s body lying next to her husband’s on the blood-stained floor.

 The blonde lady Martha stared lovingly with a brown uncovered eye at her new muscular husband Ralphie wearing an orange plaid shirt. He had brown hair and an athlete/superhero build. Their two children stood by her bedside as she recovered. The room had bouquets of colorful flowers in every corner. Camera flashed as news reporters talked to her.

 “How does it feel to have survived such a crazy bitch?” a newswoman asked.

 “I just hope that sick woman finally found peace,” Martha drawled in her hospital bed.

 Her husband comforted her, head lowered.

 “You are so brave,” the reporter commended to Martha. “Here’s $2 million dollars!”

 The woman’s face lit up as she was handed a large golden check. “Oh thank you!” She smiled at the cameras with her husband like she was a movie star.

 The stereotypical America family lived in a house near the woods and by a lake. Martha dressed like a housewife with a long polka dot skirt. Her daughter had brown pigtails, a lavender shirt with a tie, and a red skirt, with boots. The younger boy had a beaver-skin cap, a white shirt, brown pants and camouflage boots. On the outside, they were the perfect typical family.

 “You’re a hero,” said more news people as she stood elegantly at a VNN (Vivienne News Network) podium.

 “You’re a hero, girl,” admired a brown skinned jogger with short blonde passing Martha by. Martha basked in the attention and wealth. Who knew that getting shot at would change her life for the better.

 “My mama’s a hero!” declared the son.

 “She is a hero!” The brown haired casher agreed down to him as the family went grocery shopping.

 “Ooooh…You’re a hero!” moaned her husband as he thrust his penis wildly in and out of her as they made love in their bedroom. Their walls were covered with pelvises and newspaper clippings of Martha under “local hero” headings.

 “You’re a hero,” smiled an old praying priest who stood by her at one church meeting.

 Even worse for Mayberry, a new class of children cheered, “You’re a hero!” to Martha when she taught a “How to deal with trauma 101 class.”

 “Oh you’re a hero!” another man groaned as he wildly gave her anal.

  Mrs. Mayberry woke up staring at a crimson red sky. Her form had completely changed… Mrs. Mayberry was now a purple demon with stripped curved horns on her head, wearing rectangular glasses. She wore a pale red shirt with x stitches on it, along with an eye where her pendant was. Her hair was long and white and pulled back with a black bandana. She wore a dark skirt with an upside down cross on it and heels. She also had sharp yellow teeth.

 After finding a place to live and shying out of sight from shady strangers, Mrs. Mayberry had the chance to continue her career where she left off. So she did. It took some learning and adaptation to Hell’s culture but fortunately...it was pretty simple.

 Mrs. Mayberry was soon hired at “Pentagram Penitentiary Place,” one of the top public schools in the district. It was a large school for grades K-12. The name of the school was in black letters surrounded by a red downward facing pentagram over the black front doors. “All grades in one place!” read the slogan. The building was of red-orange brick with three rows of low cracked windows facing the front. The outdoor playground consisted of rusted basketball hoops, a jungle gym, dark asphalt and a swing set that made squeaky sounds every time it was used. The slide was high up and made of metal, so that it was always painfully hot for the young demon children to slide down. A barbed wire fence with swirls of wire at the top surrounded the prison-like school.

 A bunch of middle schoolers were bouncing a demon skull around and tossing it into the basketball hoops. Little preschooler demons rough-housed on the grass-less ground, laughing. One small green dragon kept making burping sounds, emitting orange sparks much to the delight of his peers.  A dinosaur used his tail for a black eyed doll girl to use as a jump rope. There was even a little scary-go round that furry bird-like kids went on to test their flying and spin out of control in the air. One white bird crashed against the fence and slid down with a flop.

 “Loser!” taunted a bulky blue cyclops kid wearing a baseball cap. He spat on the bird’s upside-down head and laughed with his goons. An older demon with a rhino’s horn was spray-painting teal blue penises on the walls.

 “Watch your back!” he called out to a centaur who fired an arrow from a bow, startled. The green lizard demon tied to the target glanced down at the arrow that had almost gotten him in the crotch. He sighed with relief, only to have an ax lodged into his head, thrown by an orange goat teenager.

 Nearby were two purple demons with silvery snake hair sitting on a concrete window ledge, wearing blouses, sequined navy skirts and shoes. They were listening to music from their Eye-Pods. One of them was painting her nails and the other took a drag from an e-cigarette. Every kid had a multiple digit number temporarily tattooed on their necks. An E, an M and an H were before the numbers, for elementary, middle and high school. The following number indicated their grade and the last two numbers were their position in alphabetical order. K or a P next to the E stood for kindergarten and preschool.

 A loud buzzer rang at the top of the roof, signaling class starting. The children were lined up in front of their respective teachers. Mrs. Mayberry stood in front of her line of preschool demons.

 After singing a song about a demonic turtle drowning in a bathtub with the class, she counted each child as they made their way to homeroom. They all filled in and sat at their wooden desks. The demonic alphabet was listed on a nearby poster with translations into English and other languages.

 “Good morning!” Mrs. Mayberry trilled in the windowless classroom, scrapping her chalk against the blackboard before catching it with a twirl. “I hope you all did your homework.”

 The kids fearfully nodded.

 “Hmm, I don’t think you did, EP-04,” she scolded a demon boy wearing an orange shirt with no paper in front of him. “Go sit in time-out.”

 The boy groaned and sat on a stool facing the wall. The white dunce cap burned on his head.

 “The pledge of allegiance,” Mrs. Mayberry led. The class stood up with their hands on their hearts.

 “I pledge allegiance and my soul to the banner

Of His Majesty Lucifer and Her Majesty Lilith

And to the unholy Inferno

For Pentagram City

One nation under Satan

Indivisible

With liberty and chaos for all!”

 They sat back down.

 “Now let’s sing,” Mrs. Mayberry ordered.

 The demonic class broke out into song:

 “We love to do our homework and learn stuff every day.”

 “And when I throw in these hard questions, you should know just what to say,” Mrs. Mayberry sang.

 “Okay!” they cheered.

 She wrote an equation on the board. “Divide this number by…”

 “Zero!”

 “Our favorite paint is…”

 “Bloody red!”

 “And when there’s a stranger danger…”

 “You stab them in the head!” they answered, making stabbing motions with their arms.

 “A poison for a deep sleep?” she asked

 “Wormwood! Does no good!”

 “The geological components of Hell?”

 “Fire and brimstone!” added a girl.

 “If you can’t use love…”

 “Use hate!”

 “Now it’s time for us to say the day and date.”

 “Your death day was on January 8th, right?” piped up a boy in the back.

 Mrs. Mayberry stopped short. “Hush up! We don’t mention that date.” She turned to the class. “Go on.”

 “It’s 3 in the afternoon…” said a boy.

 “On October 31st,” said a green girl.

 “Hell’s heat is still hot,” said another girl, sweating.

 “Let’s watch the episode first!” reminded the dunce boy.

 The demons went “la la la” as Mrs. Mayberry stared at the board, red eyes wide.

 “Oh my suns! Stop singing children. Shut up!”

 The demons fell silent.

 “I forgot it’s the new episode! I’m supposed to be off to pursue my revenge!”

 “Maybe you could scare your enemies at a death-day party!” a girl suggested with her hands up in the air.

 Mrs. Mayberry looked at her hell-phone and saw the last seconds of an I.M.P. commercial. She stood up to walk away.

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry,” said a girl, taking hold of her hand. “Remember what you taught us. Act before you think.”

 Mrs. Mayberry pat her head. “I think not. Work on your timestamps and assignments, children. I’m off to pursue a little education of my own.”

 A horn-covered sub man walked in and bellowed, “200 pushups on the double! Or it’s back to your cells!”

 The demons got up from their seats and bent down to do the pushups.

 Mrs. Mayberry called a taxi outside and it drove her off.

 Up on a screen outside her window, Mrs. Mayberry saw a full commercial where she learned of an assassination company called I.M.P.

 “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent and I’m the funder of I.M.P.! Are you a piece of shit that got sent to Hell? Or are you an innocent soul who just so happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next shot showed a bulky red demon with horns, wearing a white Ohio shirt/jersey. A sign read, “Some guy who hired us!” The demon spoke:

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you could imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the State of Ohio killed me.” He rammed his meaty fists. “I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!”

 “Guess I’m not the only one who murdered my spouse,” she thought. “I’ve also never seen a guy with…such muscles before…”

 Blitzo appeared again. “Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…we promise to take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!”

 The sounds of the imp jingle motivated Mrs. Mayberry as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the I.M.P. building. She got out, climbed up the stairs and knocked on the office door. It opened and out popped Blitzo.

 “Is this I.M.P.?” she asked.

 “Yes,” Blitzo said.

 “I figured, since I saw the commercial. I have one bad bitch that needs to be killed. And I’ve got a lot to say.”

 “Well, come on in then,” he said.

 Mrs. Mayberry paced Blitzo’s office at I.M.P. headquarters as she told her story.

  “I was a good person before it all went down,” she narrated, pacing to and fro. “I was good my entire life.”

 She continued on, adding details about her personal life. She held a cigarette in her hand. Apparently, it was easy to get into unhealthy habits in Hell.

 “You do everything right in life, play by the rules, and still get sent down here with all the Hitlers and Epsteins of the world. After one measly massacre propelled by blind rage. So that’s why I’m here. To get my revenge.”

 “I mean was she hotter?” Blitzo remarked with a smirk.

 The demon’s eyes flared red in anger, her face partially in shadow by the drawn blinds. A lemon tree was in the background with a sign that read “no whores” beside it. Blitzo casually lounged in his office chair.

 “I’m just saying I had a hard time understanding the unprompted melodrama you just spat at me, tits,” Blitzo chuckled.

 Mayberry growled and her body briefly glowed red. Her cigarette bent in her hand.

 Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Anyway I don’t think you quite understand how we’re operating down here.” He stood up and Mrs. Mayberry glared at him. “You see we take revenge on the living and it sounds like the core cast of your sitcom of a death frankly are all probably down here in Hell with you. Boop.”

 He bonked her on the nose.

 Mayberry’s pointed tail twitched, her purple claws clenched. Her skirt was torn with holes and her feet were cloven hooves. This imp guy was worse than the demonic children she taught.

 Mayberry extended her left claws. “Not all of them. That whore survived. Now they all call her a hero.”

 She continued. “Between the talk shows and bullshit donations she made so much goddamn cash. Getting shot was the best thing to happen to her.”

 Mayberry bashed her fists into the ground, creating cracks. “She’s not a hero!” Mayberry yelled, getting in close to Blitzo’s face.

 “Yeah, okay, yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Blitzo stuttered in a rapid nervous voice. He frantically pressed a red button under the desk multiple times. The red light flashed under the “Deranged Client” label on a dashboard. The other labels read, “More Coffee,” “Soiled My Pants,” “Horny Client,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Ghost,” and “Stolas.”

 Blitzo later burst through the door, followed by Mrs. Mayberry. “Guys, I’d like you to meet, our newest client!”

 The room suddenly burst into flames…Blitzo was furious. He quickly led Mrs. Mayberry outside where she hopped into a taxi to wait back home.

 “Bye and don’t worry,” called Blitzo to her, “We’ll get that skank in less than 24 hours or your first kill is free!”

 She could only hope that crazy imp and his team could do their job.

 As it turned out, Mrs. Mayberry later found out that not only had I.M.P. killed Martha, they also killed her crazy Satanic family. Mrs. Mayberry was very impressed. She held a piece of cake and laughed with the I.M.P. members for a special celebration. Millie talked about how it was okay to kill someone if they tried to kill you back.

 “That’s messed up,” mentioned Mrs. Mayberry. Then she smiled. “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone laughed again. Mrs. Mayberry felt good among her new allies. She had embraced her past at last.

 After the celebration, she got back into the taxi but instead of heading home, she headed further into town.

 There was a red Ohio demon for her to thank.

 Part Two: The Imps’ Adventure

In another room, Moxxie was holding a black and red crossbow in his hands. In front of him was a picture of a smiling family: a father, a mother, a baby and two children. His arms were shaking as the reflector hovered around the man’s crotch area.

 “Moxxie, stop shaking!” Millie chided. “You’re gonna shoot our only hellhound!”

 Loona lay on her back on a gray couch. The family picture was in one hand and her phone was in the other. On the wall were drawings of Blitzo as a horse and a drawing of Robo Fizz with an arrow sticking out from it.

 Loona spoke in a sarcastic tone, “Wow. I feel so loved here.”

 “Just take a deep breath,” Millie told Moxxie, inhaling, “and let it out.”

 “But, it’s a family,” Moxxie argued. “Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?”

 “I mean if that’s what the client wants,” Millie began.

 “Maybe like a shitty dad,” Moxxie suggested. “Or a mob family.” He spoke through his teeth, “That’s understandable.” He then spoke normally. “But to eradicate an entire innocent, seemingly innocent, upper middle class family bloodline?”

 Loona stared at the picture for a moment before pointing to Moxxie.

 “Hey! You don’t know their innocent.”

 She pointed to the boy. “This kid probably sets dogs on fire.”

 She pointed to the girl. “Maybe this girl gets off to bullying Australian kids online.”

 She pointed to the father. “And this guy…” She narrowed her eyes and spoke lower. “This guy definitely watches.”

 “Exactly!” Millie agreed. “Humans are full of secret nasties. It’s why so many of them end up here. But guilty and innocent aren’t our business, Mox.” She cupped his cheeks. “Killing who we’re paid to is our business. Choose a target.”

 She kissed him before stepping aside. Moxxie positioned his crossbow again.

 “I just think it’s a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all.”

 Just then, Blitzo barged into the room, followed by Mrs. Mayberry.

 “Guys! I want you to meet…”

 Startled, Moxxie fired the arrow and it ricocheted around the room. Millie jumped into Moxxie’s arms as the arrow hit a computer. It then flew and poked a hole in the family picture that a startled Loona held. The arrow made impact with the bottom of an eel tank, causing it to wobble dangerously. The arrow speed toward Mrs. Mayberry but Blitzo calmly caught it in one hand.

 “…our newest client!”

 The eel tank suddenly fell down, glass and water pouring onto the floor. The eels burst with electricity, casing the room to erupt in flames. Loona, Moxxie and Millie cowered in fear.

 “Dammit, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!” Blitzo yelled in anger.

 Soon, imp firefighters rushed to the scene to put out the flames as the group waited outside. The firefighters also carried the eels away to their red fire truck. Although imps were immune to fire, the buildings were not.

 Mrs. Mayberry climbed into a taxi cab.

 “Bye,” Blitzo waved, “and don’t worry, we’ll get that skank in less than twenty four hours or your first kill is free!” He waved as the taxi drove away.

 “When did we start implementing that deal?” Moxxie asked.

 Blitzo turned to glare at him. He pulled him close, holding his face.

 “When you set fire to my office in front of a…” Blitzo screamed, “client, you fucking dipshit!" He shoved Moxxie out of the way in anger. “Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!”

 Loona stood against the wall, typing on her phone. “You mean our only ticket to the other side?” She pulled out a blue book from behind her. “Yeah, got it.”

 Blitzo came over to her and started to baby talk to her. “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Loony. You get a treat now.”

 He held up a dog treat in his hands, tossed it in the air and caught it with his long tongue.

 “Ew, stop it,” Loona said with disgust. Blitzo pulled the biscuit into his mouth and chewed.

 “You’re so gross!” she remarked.

  A nearby billboard with Blitzo’s face on it read with misspellings: “Goat an asshole in the living worlds!? Come to I Am Pee!!??! Make sure you put this sign up on the rite side. Don’t fuck this up. Also payment may take a couple of weeks because it cums in the mail. –Speech to text- -Blitzo”

 Millie drew a pentagram with chalk onto the wall. The pentagram glowed red and a portal to the human world appeared.

 “Aw stop it, I get enough of that from my therapist,” Blitzo told Loona before she left. He mentioned to the other imps, and moved his fist in front of him. Now let’s go lick some ass!” He pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face.

 “The expression is “kick some ass.” Blitzo,” Millie mentioned before she stepped through the portal. Blitzo let go of Moxxie’ face.

 “Mine’s better,” Blitzo said before following her.

 “Aw, fuck,” Moxxie sighed as he followed them through the portal.

 All three imps stood in front of a small red house by the lake as the sun set. Blitzo and Moxxie leaned against the side of the house, rising from the bushes. Blitzo stood up and peered into a window. A row of white flowers were on a planter on the ledge.

 “That’s gotta be her,” Blitzo whispered. He then chuckled darkly. “This is too easy.” He looked over at Moxxie. “Moxxie, do you want this one?”

 Moxxie looked stunned and smiled nervously. “Me?”

 “Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle. It’s just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital.”

 Moxxie stood up and looked through the window. His face fell as he looked at the happy family enjoying dinner. A pig’s head was at the center of the table. The house was decorated with axes and guns on the walls. A lamp stand seemed to be made out of a spinal column. Ralphie and Martha affectionately rubbed each other’s noses, Martha holding a dinner platter in her hand. Moxxie hesitated; there was no way he could kill any one of them.

 “You snooze you lose, Mox!” Blitzo called out.

 He got out his gun, which was black with flames painted on it. The reflector was an upside down cross and it hovered over Martha’s face. She smiled with large doe eyes and blinked innocently.

 “And I’ve got you, bitch,” Blitzo murmured.

 “Wait, are we actually killing a family?!” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “No, don’t be a puss, we’re just killing a mother,” Blitzo remarked. “We’re running a family.” He grinned and clicked his rifle, positioning it.

 “But…” Moxxie began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

 Moxxie lifted up the rifle just before Blitzo fired. The bullet hit a glass mirror in the house, causing the family members to gasp in fear.

 “What was that, Ralphie?” Martha asked her husband, who sat at the table.

 Ralphie shook his head. “I don’t know Martha, but whatever it is…”

 He stood up with a sharp-toothed grin, holding a rifle in his hands.

 “They’re gonna be tomorrow night’s dinner!”

 Martha set the platter down on the table, downed a glass of wine and smashed the glass on the floor.

 “Alright, kids! Gun’s out!” She called with an evil grin. The kids, too, grinned evilly as they pulled out smaller guns. The boy pulled out his from his brown beaver-skin hat.

 “Looks like we’ve got some rabbits to catch, youngins!” Ralphie said with an evil chuckle.

 Back outside, Blitzo was fuming. “What the fuck was that, Moxxie?”

 Moxxie breathed anxiously before letting out a croak, his snake-like tongue flickering. He fell to his knees, hands over his face.

 “I’m sorry. They just seemed so wholesome and happy.” Tears fell from his eyes. “I panicked.”

 Blitzo face-palmed. “Oh who the fuck is innocent, Moxxie? From the moment of birth, you’re already a parasite leeching off your momma’s tits.”

 He grabbed his chest in an imitation of holding breasts. He leaned in and poked Moxxie painfully on the head. “Now get the fuck over yourself you baby dick prick!”

 A bullet fired through the wall and shot Blitzo in the arm. He cried out as black blood splattered.

 “A new hole!” Blitzo cried in terror. “Scatter!”

 Blitzo and Millie leapt into the air just as another gunshot created a larger hole in the wall. A grinning Martha and Ralphie leapt through the hole and chased after them, guns drawn. Moxxie peered out from behind the bush, rapidly looking around. A child’s hand grabbed Moxxie’s pointed tail and he yelped. He only saw a barrage of fists from the children before passing out.

 Millie flipped backwards along a cobblestone trail before diving into the lake.

 “There you go, little critter!” Ralphie called, firing another bullet. He stepped onto the wooden dock. “Y’all can’t hide long from me!”

 Millie had her head above the water under the dock, a knife in her mouth. She broke through the dock with a crash before landing with a grin, knife at the ready. Ralphie swing a beer bottle at her, but she moved behind him out of the way. Millie jumped up in the air, knife in both hands. Ralphie swung the bottle upwards, hitting her in the head. The glass shattered and she fell to the ground with a loud yelp. Millie struggled weakly to stand, but collapsed onto the dock, eye twitching. Ralphie grinned down at her as the sky spiraled red. He picked her up and headed deep into the woods.

 Moxxie opened his eyes and gasped with a squeak to find his hands and body tied with rope. He appeared to be tied to a stitched up headless dead body sitting on a chair. Moxxie’s face fell in fear as he stared at the boy and girl in front of him. Both their eyes were red and devious grins formed on their faces.

 Moxxie tried to defuse the fear. “Oh. Hello there little ones. Aren’t you cute?”

 The children spoke in low distorted voices, the boy finishing shortly after the girl.

 “It’s nice to have a new critter to play with.”

 Moxxie glanced up in terror at a red spotlight above him. The light revealed a human head high up and several limbs on plaques. The wooden walls were stained with red blood. Tow plaques held stitched up faces of skin. A larger plaque displayed a dead man with long white hair, arms crossed, eyes and teeth bulging out. His upper chest was connected to the plaque. A picture frame made of bones displayed another face made of skin inside it. Human skin was tacked to the wall with “bless this mess” stitched onto it. Moxxie looked and saw a dead human body on a platter, an apple in its mouth. Organs were displayed in a nearby bowl.

 Moxxie took one look at the dead body and whimpered. “Aw. Crumbs.”

 Meanwhile, Blitzo was running for his life in the woods. Four gunshots rang out as Blitzo darted through a bush, leaves falling to the ground. Martha’s evil echoing laughter quickened his pace. The imp slide down a grass hill, landing on his feet. He crouched under the bushes, looking around. He panted, catching his breath.

 “I know you’re hurtin’, little devil,” drawled Martha in a sing-song voice.

 Blitzo darted behind a tree, taking in deep silent breaths. His back was pressed against the bark. He covered his mouth, not daring to move.

 “I promise that I can make that pain go real quick.”

 Martha walked through the woods, not too far away, in shadow. “Just come let Mama Martha put a bullet in that pretty little skull!”

 Blitzo sighed in relief after hearing the footsteps fade.

 Ring! Ring! Ahh!

 A startled Blitzo scrambled to retrieve his yellow cell-phone, which was ringing a yelling ringtone. He eventually caught the phone before pressing it to his ear. The phone had a GFY (Go Fuck Yourself) on it and a laughing devil emoji with imp horns.

 “This is a really bad time,” Blitzo whispered.

 At Stolas’ palace, the owl prince was currently lounging in an ornate bathtub, several lit candles with blue flames positioned around the edges. Astrological symbols glowed white in a circle on the floor. The midnight blue curtains looked like the night sky, with starry designs on them. Floating constellations hovered around the room. He was the prince of astronomy as well as being horny.

 “When isn’t it a bad time, Blitzy?” he mused, stretching his long slender arm. He held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like sunflowers.

 Blitzo sighed in frustration. “What is it?”

 Stolas’ four red eyes blinked. “I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my grimoire?”

 Blitzo’s angry face appeared in a bubble.

 “What did you just call me?” Blitzo asked. Stolas popped the bubble with a finger. “My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?”

 Blitzo ducked as a bullet flew through the tree he was behind. Martha’s shadowy figure appeared in the hole, her eyes and mouth glowing red.

 “I can hear ya, darling!” she called out.

 “Shit,” Blitzo muttered, scurrying off.

 “Anywho,” Stolas continued. “I have been thinking. You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfil my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?”

 He ran a finger along the edge of the tub. He then did a walking motion with his fingers as they glowed red.

 “Favors for favors? Doesn’t that sound…” He spoke seductively, “…enticing?”

 Blitzo skidded to a stop as another bullet hit a tree. He ducked behind another one and frantically whispered, “You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I’m trying to concentrate on not getting fucked in my hay!”

 Bam!

 Another bullet hit a spot on the tree.

 “Then let me keep it simple,” Stolas explained. “Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…”

 His eyes glowed red, his beak open in lust…

 “…passionate fornication.” He briefly slid lower in the tub with a blush before rising up to lean against the tub.

 “And…you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little imp?”

 “Fine, whatever!” Blitzo replied.

 Blitzo let out a happy sigh. “Oh Blitzy! I’m so excited! I cannot wait to fill your slimy **** inside of my *****…”

 Blitzo cringed as Blitzo went on about the sexual things he planned to do to him.

 Out of nowhere, Blitzo found himself being pinned against the tree by the bottom handle of Martha’s gun.

 “Got ya!” she grinned. Bltzo’s phone was on the ground, Stolas still talking.

 “So, you’re a little devil, huh?” she asked, a wide grin. “Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well not today, Satan!”

 She pressed the gun further into Blitzo. “Gonna send y’all back where ya came from!”

 She hit Blitzo hard and he slumped to the ground. She took him and headed off into the woods.

 Back at the house, Moxxie struggled to free his tied up hands and body. In the reflection of the window, he could see the orange yellow lights of fires. He gasped.

 “Millie!”

 The two kids stared deviously at him. He froze when the girl revealed a long sharp knife in her hands. Moxxie glared, determined. As the girl raised the knife, Moxxie shoved her backwards with the chair. There was a thud as the chair toppled over onto the floor. Moxxie grabbed the knife and cut the rope loose, freeing himself. A “Live, Laugh, Love” sign and a hangman’s noose hung from the wall. Moxxie burst through the round window, a shadow silhouette with glowing yellow eyes. Wasting no time, he raced into the woods and toward rows of torches. Hanging from the trees were red Satanic symbols. There were also tents around the area.

 A full moon appeared in the sky from behind thin clouds. Down below, Blitzo and Millie were tied to a stake decorated with black spikes at the top. Ralphie laughed as he poured gasoline onto the ground by their feet. Martha stood nearby, holding a torch in her left hand. Her blouse was torn and low cut, with polka dots on them. Her eyes were red and she wore skull earrings.

 Blitzo groaned in frustration. “I had that fucking shot. God dammit, Moxxie.”

 “Satan!” Martha declared. “We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!” She raised her torch. “May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!”

 Martha tossed the torch underneath Blitzo and Moxxie, who still struggled to free themselves. Ralphie laughed again. The stake soon lit up in flames…

 …leaving the imps unscathed.

 “Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, lady,” Blitzo explained. “Sorry, your fire doesn’t really hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that’ll get your dick hard.” He smirked and Millie giggled.

 “Oh. Shit.” Martha stared confused and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

 Then she got a better idea and grinned. “Well, I’ll just shoot you in your smart-ass mouth!” She held her rifle in her hands.

 “That would be more effective,” Blitzo mentioned.

 “Blitzo!” Millie spat.

 Martha laughed again as she raised the rifle, two barrels pointing at the imps. The imps closed their eyes and flinched.

 A loud bang and a yelp was heard. Martha’s eyeball flew from her socket and she collapsed to the ground.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried, seeing Moxxie hold a gun in his hands. Moxxie raced over and untied Millie and Blitzo.

 “You’re not getting your goddam paycheck for this one, Mox!” Blitzo mentioned before he fell down. Moxxie and Millie embraced each other with small smiles. They slowly moved their heads against each other in affection. Ralphie tripped over Martha’s body before fleeing the scene.

 “Oh yeah, thanks! I’m fine!” Blitzo spoke out in sarcasm.

 Moxxie helped Blitzo up, supporting him.

 “I’m sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm’s way. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

 Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug. “Apology accepted.” Then he spoke to Moxxie in a low threatening voice. “But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I’ll fuck you and your wife.”

 Just as fast, Blitzo separated from Moxxie and announced, “Alrighty! Job well done! Now let’s get off.” Millie lifted her arms in a cheer. From his chest, Blitzo pulled out a gray horse figure with a back mane like a My Little Pony toy. He put it back and retrieved his cell phone.

 “Eh. Yeah give me a moment. I need to get something I left at the house,” Moxxie said.

 “Okay, fine but hurry up,” Blitzo said. He put his cell phone to his ear and spoke loudly, “Loona! We’re ready to come home, dear!”

 Moxxie raced through the woods, determined to set things right. In the background, Stolas was talking to Blitzo, mentioning, “You and I on…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all night.”

 Back inside the house, the boy and girl were in their father’s arms in a corner.

 “Don’t move!” Moxxie demanded, pointing his rifle at them. The boy and girl looked scared and innocent. The girl even had a dark gray stitched up teddy bear with her.

 Ralphie chucked. “What are you gonna do, little guy? Kill us?”

 “I should!” Moxxie replied, stepping back. “You people are monsters!” Then he lowered the rifle. “But… you should have a chance at a life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them! You are going to face your crimes, justly.”

 He picked up a remote from a stand. “I am calling your earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with, fairly. I am handing this, my way.”

 He pressed a button and a television turned on in the adjacent room. A black and white program played. Moxxie gasped in surprise, then looked down at it.

 “Oh shit,” he muttered. The black remote had pink and white buttons reminiscent of a smiling goofy face.

 “Uh do you…do you have a phone to summon 911?”

 “Yeah, it’s in the kitchen,” Ralphie mentioned behind him.

 Moxxie held the remote. “Then what’s this for?”

 “It’s a universal remote,” Ralphie replied. “Got it for the kids.” The kids smiled and he pulled them in a hug.

 “Aww,” Moxxie smiled, eyes shining.

 He called the police and hurried back to the portal in the dark woods.

 “There he is,” Blitzo said. “Have a good wank-off session, Moxxie?”

 “Excuse me?”

 Blitzo walked over to him. “Well I don’t care where you cum in the living world, just come to your job on time, alright?” He poked Moxxie several times for emphasis. “See you at the office!” He ran through the portal.

 Millie placed a hand on Moxxie’s cheek. “You doing okay, sweetie?”

 “Better now, honey,” Moxxie replied with a smile. “I think I just needed a minute to process.”

 Millie tenderly touched Moxxie’s chest. “You have a good heart, honey.” She playfully pinched Moxxie’s nose. “Just a fuzzy head.” She kissed him and Moxxie’s heart fluttered. He smiled happily as Millie walked through the portal.

 Moxxie heard the whirl of blades and flashes of light. He turned around. There were police cars and a helicopter in front of the house.

 A voice over a loudspeaker said, “We got em’ boys!”

 A missile fired at the roof and the entire house exploded in a fiery inferno. Something hit Moxxie in the face. He stared at the ground and found the head of the teddy bear that had flown off. He stared with a shocked look of disbelief on his face. The family that had a chance to be better was now dead.

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie hard by the neck and pulled him through the portal.

 Later on, everyone was laughing and celebrating back at I.M.P. headquarters. They were all wearing birthday party hats. Loona and Mrs. Mayberry held slices of cake on plates. A white banner read “Killed the bitch,” in red letters. A white and blue cake sat in front of Moxxie, the blue icing read “We did it! :)” Everyone seemed joyful except for Moxxie. He still felt awful that they had killed an entire family. An evil family, but still…They had come close to being killed or caught. Now here they were celebrating human death.

 Moxxie wasn’t sure if he agreed to the “senseless killing” morals of I.M.P. anymore.

 Millie squealed for joy and hugged Moxxie tight around the neck. “Did you see my little Mox, Mox? We did it! Oh Moxxie!”

 “Well here’s to another mission accomplished,” Blitzo announced, “…and Moxxie finally learned not to fuck up.”

 Moxxie just stared wordlessly at his plate, dark circles under his eyes.

 “And killing people isn’t that big of a deal if they try to kill you back,” Millie added, rubbing Moxxie’s white head of hair.

 “That’s messed up,” said Mrs. Mayberry, “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone except Moxxie chuckled at that.

 “Yeah, fuck that family!” Blitzo declared, raising a fist.

Helluva Boss Episode Two: Loo-Loo Land

Part One: Octavia

 Hundreds of years ago in Hell…Stolas’ Palace

  Before Octavia Goetia was a 117 year old owl princess (Mentally turned seventeen supposedly August 15 2003), she was a cute little child owl living with her mother and father.

 At night, faint blue constellations illuminated against the exterior of the estate. On the lower jutting wall structure supporting a balcony, Stolas’ sigil symbol also glowed blue in the dark. The balcony itself was spacious and decorated with hanging see-through drapes along the pillars. Spirals and a few eyes were also part of the design above the pillars. Bushes were lined up in rows on an upper row above the balcony, with little rows of coffin-shaped windows behind them in another wall. The borders of the building were decorated with difference phases of the moon in gold. Finally, the double doors on the balcony were stained glass in yellow and orange, with a sun on the left and a crescent moon on the right.

 Inside the estate, three candles cast a dim teal light in the darkened master bedroom. The spacious room had a white tall couch off to the side and a rotary phone on a nearby dresser. Hanging on the wall was a mirror and several large portraits of Stolas dressed in red robes and a crown. Rows of small red banners hung around the top of the bed and four red curtains with gold royal symbols were draped tight around the bed. The bedspread matched the curtains.

 “Mommy! Daddy!”

 A child’s cry from another room roused the owl prince from his slumber. One of his red eyes opened halfway, another one a slit near the top of his dark feathery head. His face was white and heart-shaped. He turned his head to where his wife was sleeping. She was a white owl with long eyebrows that extended past her face. She was curled up in most of the blankets.

 “Via’s calling us, Stella,” Stolas groaned sleepily.

 Stella let out a sigh. “You get up,” she replied tiredly.

 Stolas sighed and rose out of bed, briefly putting his fingers to his head. He opened the door to Octavia’s bedroom. The wallpaper consisted of several columns of moons and stars. Astronomy books lined a shelf while tapped drawings on the wall showed stick figures of Stolas and Octavia, labeled “Daddy,” and “Me.” A nearby portrait showed a smiling Stolas giving an overjoyed Octavia a piggy back ride against a blue background.

 Stolas opened the white door, wearing his red housecoat and a pair of demon face slippers.

 “Dear? What troubles you, my owlet?”

 Octavia’s room was small, with a bookcase and strings of lights hanging around. A white and pink chest and telescope were decorated with stray feathers. Her bed was decorated with small stars and a pink crown on the white headboard, sparkling curtains on either side. A stuffed cat lay on the floor. A lavender blanket with yellow stars on it was currently quivering on the bed. A small frightened face popped out from under the covers: little Octavia. She wore pink jammies with white stars on them. Her face was white and her eyes were large and pink with white pupils. Three gray feathers stuck out from her feathery head and she also had a little tail.

 The little girl sobbed and climbed out of bed.

 “Daddy! Daddy!”

 She ran into her father’s arms.

 “I had a dream! A really bad dream!” Her mouth quivered in a whimper.

 Stolas scooped her up into his arms and yawned.

 “A nightmare.”

 He wiped a tear away from her face.

 Octavia spread out her arms. “I was looking all over the palace and…I couldn’t find you anywhere! You weren’t there!”

 Tears appeared from her eyes and she hugged her father around the neck.

 “There, there, Via. It’s okay; you’re okay.”

 He pat her several times on the back and carried her into the room. A blue grimoire with a golden crescent moon on the cover floated into the room in a purple cloud of magic.

 Stolas sat down on the bed, Octavia in his lap. The book hovered next to him and he waved his hand to turn the pages. Stolas looked at Octavia.

 “When you’re sacred and you don’t know where I am, you must remember: I will never be far away from my special little Starfire.”

 He playfully poked her on the nose and she giggled.

 Stolas waved his hand and magic surrounded it. He moved his hand to the ceiling and created a starry portal above their heads. Octavia looked up with wonder in her eyes. It was then that Stolas started singing his lullaby: “You Will Be Okay.”

 “It always seems more quiet in the dark”

“It always feels so stark”

 Both of them floated upward through the hole. A brilliant indigo night sky filled with stars was revealed. A small bright sun and a distant ringed planet hovered in the distance. Stolas stood on the surface of a large white moon dotted with craters of various sizes.

 “How silence grows under the moon

Constellations gone so soon”

 Stolas’ feet made talon bird tracks on the surface as he carried his daughter.

 “I used to think that I was bold

I used to think love would be fun

Now all my stories have been told

Except for one”

 Stolas looked down at Octavia’s innocent eyes as their faces shone from the pinkish light of the nearby star. Octavia was the ongoing part of his life that Stolas continued to live for, day by day. In all the centuries of his long life, no sexual conquests, no battles nor royal duties could compare with the unique experience of raising a child. In a sea of constellations, Octavia was a guiding light to a greater purpose.

 The ringed planet hovered beside another planet bathed in purple-pink light. A rocky meteor caught on fire and soared toward a molten planet.

 “As the stars start to align

I hope you take it as a sign

That you’ll be okay”

 Stolas sat down on a small rock and held his daughter close.

 “Everything will be okay.”

 The meteor slowly dipped into the molten planet, turning a fiery orange. The meteor broke through the planet, causing it to break into rocky pieces. Stolas and Octavia sat on a floating chunk of rock as light burst upward from between the gaps of the planet debris.

 “And if the Seven rings collapse

Although the day could be my last

You will be okay. When I’m gone you’ll be okay…”

 Octavia yawned and nestled into her father’s feathery chest with a small smile on her sleepy face. Stolas knew that even a powerful demon like himself could not live forever. Angelic weapons could kill both Hell-born and Sinners in Hell. The higher class Hell-born could respawn like the Sinners but unlike the dead previous humans, the Hell-born aged slowly and could die of natural causes like mortals.

 Stolas was a part of a powerful ancient clan of demons, one of the first in Hell. The Ars Goetia brothers in arms were very numerous and powerful…desirable targets for enemies like Valentino and the lot. The family living for so many years didn’t lessen the potential sadness that permanent death would bring.

 Like any good parent, Stolas wanted what was best for his child; to pass down some existential knowledge for her to remember later on.

 “And when creation goes to die

You can find me in the sky”

 Seven planets flew toward the sun, creating powerful impacts. The planets turned ashen black before everything burst into an explosion of light. Stolas’ vocalizing face was illuminated by the large pink smoke from the galactic explosion.

 Tears pooled in Stolas’ eyes as the portal closed behind him, now back in the bedroom. A red and gold metallic model of a solar system hung from the back wall. Stolas lifted the starry blanket and draped it over a sleeping Octavia.

 “Upon the last day

And you will be okay…”

 Stolas walked toward the door, looking at her lovingly again before closing it. Octavia slept peacefully in her bed like a happy chick in a nest.

   Stolas’ palace, Dec 9 2020, present day

 Octavia jolted awake suddenly, her pink eyes angular with constricted white pupils. Her hand rested by her face. Her eyes narrowed in anger, her fist clenched as piercing yelling from another room echoed off the walls.

 Her parents were having yet another fight.

 She got out her phone and texted Loona: “Parents fighting again. Fuck my life.”

 Loona replied: “Srry 2 hear that. Currently dealing with asshole boss and Moxxie the dick. Hang out at concert Friday?”

 Octavia: “Hope so. Mom has grudge against imps and hellhounds, what a royal bitch.”

 Loona: “Smh. Hang in there, my friend.”

 Octavia knew that her regal mother, Stella was pissed that Stolas had fucked the imp Blitzo behind her back. Octavia often worried that Stolas would go on some honeymoon with that creature and leave her behind with Stella. Stella wasn’t cruel but she was sterner than Stolas was. Octavia didn’t know which was worse, her father’s childish attitude laced with a perverted nature…or her mother’s cold critiques of Octavia’s behavior. Stella loved her but expected her to mold into the royal role she was given from birth. Stella was more concerned with tea parties, fashionable attire and her appearance than Octavia’s many thoughts.

 Currently, Octavia was just a typical emo/goth teenager who had to deal with a lot of stuff going on.  

 Octavia’s room was different as well. More spacious, it had a couple of slanted windows between purple drawn curtains that let in some light. A solar system mobile hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. A mirror hung on the wall along with several banners with suns and moons on them. A long couch in the style of white feathers sat off to the side, complete with comfy cushions and pillows. There was a smaller purple telescope as well. Her bed still had the sparkling starry drapes and above that, were hanging purple drapes with a small moon on it and a large pink eye at the very top. Her bedspread was midnight blue with crescent moons on them and the chest by her bed was plainer than before.

 Octavia sat up in bed, with her feathers ruffled, quite literally as well as figuratively. With a grumpy look on her face, Octavia inserted earphones into her ears and held a blue phone in her hand, decorated with a yellow crescent moon. Octavia got dressed in her usual pink shirt with stars on it, black pants, shoes and a crown on her head.

 A playlist of songs appeared, the majority of them were by My Chemical Romance and some were by Lilith. An icon with flames and a sad face appeared on the screen and she pressed the play icon. Pop music played in her ears as a person sang: “My world is burning down around me.”

 The screams grew with intensity as she got out of bed and walked down a hall lined with Venus Fly Trap plants of different colors. They were arranged in a pattern of brown, magenta and purple. One poor potted planet crashed to the floor in front of Octavia. She stepped over the mess as she continued listening.

 She could hear the vehement arguments form her parents as she walked into the spacious kitchen.

 There was her mother, Queen Stella in a white dress with the top part of her outfit a light pink. A crown was on her head and light gray feathers fanned from her head like long hair.

 “I can’t believe you slept with an imp, in our fucking bed!”

 “It was unexpected!” Stolas replied. “I didn’t have time to go to a motel!”

 Stella seethed in disgust. “A motel?! Like a fucking plebian?!” (Roman word for commoner)

 “You want to fuck this one too?!”

 In a fury, she grabbed a small white dressed imp butler and tossed him at her husband.

 Stolas flinched, holding up his hands. “No! Of course not!”

 Stella pointed a finger at him. “You are a god damn embarrassment! I’m not spending another moment looking at your pathetic, imp-sucking face!”

 Stella stormed out of the room, tossing and breaking more of Stolas’ beloved plants as she yelled.

 Stolas sighed in exasperation before turning to look at his sulking daughter who was sitting at a table with a box of cereal.

 “Good morning, Octavia!” he greeted. “Did you sleep well, my owlet?”

 “Was that a serious question?” she deadpanned as she drank coffee from a mug.

 “Mm-hmm…” Stolas began as he walked to an old fashioned white refrigerator with the royal crest on it. He opened the door and took out a slab of zebra meat on a plate. In a corner shelf was a can of soda and a cartoon of chocolate milk. In a zip-lock bag were three white dead mice for a later snack. (They are owls after all!)

 “What’s that you’re listening to?” he asked, with a snap of his fingers.

 “This song is called “My World Is Burning Down Around Me.” It’s by Fuck You Dad. It’s a band.”

 “Oh…how charming…” Stolas chuckled bemusedly. He shut the door and fed the meat to a large white potted plant in a small alcove off the kitchen as he pet it. The satisfied plant closed its three eyes. A starry calendar hung on a nearby wall.

 “So…you two done screaming for the day?” Octavia asked.

 “Um…” Stolas began as Stella let out another scream of anger along with a crash.

 Stolas walked over to Octavia, who had a box of Robo Fizz’s Greed Seed cereal next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know what I haven’t done in a long, long time? I haven’t taken you to your favorite place in all of Hell! Why don’t we go to Loo-Loo Land?” He mentioned to a portrait of Stolas, Stella and a happy child Octavia in a dress at an apple theme park.

 “I’m not five anymore.”

 “You always were so happy when I took you to Loo-Loo Land! What do you say we go there again, have a day, just the two of us!”

 “I’d rather kill myself,” she deadpanned.

 “There we go!” Stolas beamed, bypassing her comment. “Anything but staying in this house.” He lifted a finger. “Now, I’ll arrange our security.”

 He picked up a white rotary phone carried on a platter by the battered imp servant.

 “Security for a theme park?”

 “We are rich, and we’re hot. People want our money and our bodies!”

 “Our money, maybe,” Octavia said under her breath. Stolas rotated the dial a few times.

 “Speak for yourself, Princess. Now, I’m calling the only man who can fuck me!”

 Octavia looked with disgust, cereal falling from her hand. “What?”

 “Who can protect me! Us. Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know.” The imp collapsed.

 Octavia groaned and pulled her hat down over her eyes.

 At the I.M.P. office, there was a picture of Blitzo wrapped in a towel with the words “#1 bitch” on it, with the word “boss” in red over the letters. A paper crown rested on one corner of the picture frame.

 Blitzo played with crude representations of Moxxie and Millie made of office supplies. “Millie” was made from a stick and clips while “Moxxie” was made from an eraser.

 “Oh, Blitzo, you’re such a good boss!” Blitzo impersonated Millie. “Yeah, I really want you sir,” he impersonated Moxxie. “Me too!” he said as Millie. “Let’s three-way!” he said as himself before lowering the office puppets to his crotch. The screaming ringtone of his cell-phone interrupted his pansexual fantasy.

 “What?!” he yelled into it. He lounged in his chair, legs propped up as he drank iced coffee from a bloodstained mug. A poster with SpindleHorse on hind legs with “Wild and Free,” hung from the wall.

 “Why hello, my big-dicked Blitzy!” Stolas spoke lustfully.

 Both Blitzo and Octavia forcefully spit out their coffee.

 Blitzo spoke angrily, “What…”

 Octavia said, “The…

 Blitzo: “Fuck…”

 Octavia: “Dad?!

 “Language! Everyone!” Stolas shouted out loud before speaking into the phone. “I have a special request.”

 “Aw look,” Blitzo mentioned, “I just had a chemical peel, so you’ll have to find someone else’s face to plant that feathered ass!” He was in no mood for another intimate session.

 “It’s for my daughter.”

 A session with Stolas’ daughter? “Ah, well make sure she washes it.”

 “Oh! No! No, no, no!” Stolas cried taken aback. “I’m taking my daughter to Loo-Loo Land and I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us.”

 “We’re assassins, not bodyguards, okay? Don’t invite us to shit unless someone’s gonna die.”

 “I’ll pay you.”

 “With what?”

 “Money.”

 “Done!” Blitzo yelled in confirmation, accidentally smashing his phone against the desk. He glanced in annoyance at the shattered pieces before producing a white megaphone with a painted monster mouth on it. He put the crown on his head.

 “M and M, get in here! We’re goin’ to Loo-Loo Land!”

 Moxxie opened the door to respond. “Loo-Loo Land?” he asked in concern. An excited Millie smashed her head through the glass window of the office door. “Loo-Loo Land!” Her eyes were shining.

 “Loo-Loo Land!” Blitzo yelled excitedly through the megaphone, his long snake-like tongue flickering.

 “Shut the fuck up!” Loona yelled from another room.

      Part Two: Loo-Loo Land

Loo-Loo Land was a knockoff apple themed park located in Mammon’s Ring of Greed. The sky was blue instead of red like it was in the Ring of Pride. Indeed, there were Seven Rings in this Hell ruled by Archdemons and named after the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, Lust, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Wrath. Only sinners could dwell in the Ring of Pride; it was Lucifer’s punishment since he hated mortals. Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor and Beezelbub were the Archdemons…but Lucifer was the Ringmaster of all of them!

 A wide array of attractions spun, lit up, whirled and roared to life, some of them reaching toward the sky. There was a large Ferris wheel with a large blue star structure in the center. A star flyer swing ride spun people on swings, while a towering red roller coaster contrasted against the blue sky. A brick tower displayed an eye with pointed ears on the top of it. A white and red stripped circus tent stood between two tall pillars with red painted caramel apples on top as part of the design. Two smiling red apples wearing straw hats were the pillars that flanked the entrance. A teal sign with blinking lights around the border read “Mammon’s Loo-Loo Land” in white, the last “o” hanging lopsidedly. A cardboard cutout of Robo Fizz had an extended hand in an arch holding a welcome sign. A sign read, “Legally he have to say this,” and another sign said “Not affiliated with Lu Lu World.” Another sign read “Money please!” by a ticket booth.

 A dark gray van pulled into a parking spot and Moxxie got out. He walked with a blank expression on his face, wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses like his imp colleagues. A bold red I.M.P. decal was spray painted onto the van door. Moxxie slid open the door.

 There was the hunched black silhouette of Stolas, his four red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. He got out of the van, a happy tall owl wearing red shorts and a white Loo-Loo Land shirt. There was a brief silhouette of Octavia, her two eyes glowing violet. Octavia seethed in annoyance as she peered out through the door. Blitzo and Millie came along as well, getting up from the red seats. Stolas put on an apple hat with big eyes and excitedly mentioned for his daughter to come along. Octavia covered her face with her black hat before following.

 In a black suit and sunglasses, Blitzo strolled by Stolas with a serious expression as they walked by a booth that sold apple Loo-Loo hats. By a clock with a black crown on it that read 7:30 AM, was another booth with “Balloons Attack” on it.

 “Now remember, this is work and work only,” Blitzo reminded Stolas. “Me and my crew are not here to satisfy your perverted bird needs, alright?”

 “Hey, dad, do we have to…” Octavia complained before Blitzo cut her off.

 “Okay, yeah, hold on right there, sweetie.” He turned to Stolas, holding an accusing finger at him. “If you try fuckin’ my little ass in that park, I swear to…”

 Stolas leaned down and playfully tapped and booped Blitzo on the nose. “You are so cute when you are serious!”

 “I am literally going to be sick,” Octavia deadpanned.

 “Oh crumbs!” exclaimed Moxxie, rummaging through his small gray bag. “I knew today would be a lot! What do you need?”

 Moxxie fished around in the bag, retrieving pill bottles. “Antacids? Ibuprofen? Morphine?”

With a sharp toothed grin, Moxxie showed Octavia eight hypodermic needles with a glowing green substance in them.

 “That was figurative, old man,” Octavia replied, arms crossed before walking away.

 “Oh, right,” Moxxie chuckled sheepishly as he casually tossed the needles into a baby stroller by the cotton candy booth. A red baby imp wearing a bib with a pentagram on it stuck out his tongue and cooed as he reached playfully toward the deadly looking needles.

 “But she said it was ‘literally,’” Moxxie muttered under his breath.

 On a wall of a Plush booth were Robo Fizz posters and several taped signs that read: “Not Lu Lu World! Stop showing complaints,” “Does Lu Lu World have a sex robot? No! Stop asking!” “I would never do that to my BFF Lucifer.” “Everyone is so mean to me.”

 Millie took off her sunglasses and beamed. “Wooow! I haven’t been to this place since I was a tot!”

 An R on an “Apple Core Roll” sign fell off and squashed a poor teen imp below it. Moxxie flinched.

 “It hasn’t changed a bit! Oh! Look! It’s Big Lovely!”

 Near a gray Extermination booth with exterminator plush heads stood a blue animatronic T-Rex dinosaur wearing a shirt with a planet on it. It had yellow lopsided eyes. Three imps stood to watch it. It suddenly opened its mouth and let out a fierce roaring shriek.

 “That is…deeply upsetting,” Moxxie mentioned. Millie pulled him toward her. “Oh come on! It’s fun! You’ve never been here?”

 “No,” said Moxxie. “Theme parks always disturbed me. Especially the mascots,” he shivered.

 The park’s apple mascot suddenly appeared behind Moxxie. It was a large red apple with a big row of teeth with several holes in them. The top of the apple was green and a black top hat rested on top of the costume. The eyes were big, the black pupils shaped like Pacman symbols. The mascot also wore gloves.

 “Well hey there!” the mascot called in a goofy southern accent.

 Moxxie screamed in fright as the imps both turned around.

 “I’m Loo-Loo! Welcome to Loo-Loo Land!” said the mascot, spreading out his arms. “If y’all get hurt here, just try and sue us!” The mascot stood on an apple design on the ground as the animatronic head fell onto another imp. Stolas and Octavia stood near a carousel with monstrous looking horses and a small triceratops dinosaur. Some of the horses had bat wings, painted eyes all over and fiery shaped manes.

 Stolas’s eyes glowed with childish excitement, while Octavia stood embarrassed. “Look! Via! It’s Loo-Loo!”

 “I have a question,” Octavia stated, holding up a finger.

 The mascot leaned in close to her. “Well ask away, little girlie!” The mascot bounced around, an eyeball hanging out as he made “a-hyuk, a-hyuk a-hyuk” sounds.

 “Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off of Lucifer’s far more popular Lu Lu World?” Octavia smirked as Stolas looked at her with a pleading frown.

 The mascot paused. “No?”

 Octavia narrowed her eyes and scoffed. “This place reeks of insecure corporate shame.”

 Stolas chuckled in embarrassment before leading Octavia away. “Why don’t we go check out the rides?”

 “That chick’s creepy, huh?” the mascot asked.

 “Ah, wait till her dad tries to diddle your holes,” Blitzo deadpanned.

 “What’s that mean?”

 “Don’t talk to me!” Moxxie called in suspicion, poking a finger at him. “I know you’re a pervert under there!”

 Moxxie and Millie left. The mascot hung his body in dejection as he sighed “Yeah.”

 Moxxie and Millie headed down a pathway while a sweating Moxxie stopped to catch his breath. “You really like this place, huh?”

 “I love this place!” Millie exclaimed. “My parents would bring me and my siblings here, when they could swing it, Money-wise.” Willie and Lillie were Millie’s brother and sister and sometimes they were just as excited as she was. Unlike Blitzo’s mean father Donner and Moxxie’s parents, Millie’s parents tried to do what was best for their children while also attempting to survive.

  An imp wearing loose clothing and a baseball cap pushed a wheelbarrow full of money into a nearby toy shop. A nearby sign on a brick wall showed a Robo Fizz doll and the words, “New! Fizzy Buddy! He laughs, he sings, he swears! Tell your parents to buy me! Over 100 lovable phrases! Posable! Only 48% asbestos.”

 The two imps approach a window where apple plushies and apple shaped novelty cups with Ls on them were sold for $29.

 Moxxie mentioned, “Yeah, the prices do seem rather criminal. I mean, that much for a novelty cup you use one time?”

 “’Cause it’s Loo-loo Land!” Millie said excitedly. Blitzo walked over, slurping from a straw in a novelty cup. He wore a hat with an apple on it and two can holders and straws attached to it. Loo-Loo Land brought back memories of him and his sisters doing jokes and performing at the circus.

 “Listen to your ho’ Mox,” Blitzo said, mentioning behind him. “How ‘bout I take the first watch while you two…” he winked, “have a little fun.” Stolas held up a white shirt with an apple on it to Octavia who frowned.

 “Oh!” Millie cried. “We gotta do my favorite ride!” She picked Moxxie up and carried him as she ran.

 “Oh yeah? Whi-Which one?”

 Millie and Moxxie raced over to The Lawsuit roller coaster, the carts were red with the front displaying a green grin. The ride plunged at a sheer 90 degree drop while on fire. A lone rider hung on for dear life and screamed as the ride plunged into a tunnel in the ground. The mascot posed by a height rules sign. Later on, Moxxie threw up in a trash can as an angry vomit covered imp family glared at them. Even the red three eyed dragon from the petting zoo glared at Moxxie.

 Stolas happily carried a balloon in his hand while Octavia slouched on. They walked by a stand that read “Funnel Cakes: Eternal Suffering” with popcorn and a sausage on a fork. Blitzo snuck around like a secret agent with his sniper rifle. He appeared on a teal-green tent roof of an “Ice Cream Bugs” stand. Blitzo slid with his rifle and knocked over cups at a “Hot and Cold Drunks” stand. The imps glared at him as he toppled backwards onto the ground. A nearby blaster game was titled “Stop that Soul” and showed a frowning sun and cardboard angels in clouds with xs over their eyes. Another sign read “Hax Away.”

 Five grinning imps with knives and weapons peered out from an alleyway at Stolas, itching to kill him and steal the prince’s money. Blitzo slid along the floor, then glared at the imps, causing them to scatter away. Blitzo aimed his sniper again, near a game where imps could knock out mechanical clown’s teeth at “Teeth Off!” Stolas tilted his head upside down and stroked Blitzo’s horns from above. There was a game where one could toss balls into skulls and a ring toss with real spikes to toss them onto.

 “You know, it’s quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.”

 “Save it, bitch. I’m working.”

 Octavia rolled her eyes. “You both need to get a room.”

 “Hey!” Blitzo called. “I am not a day-hooker!”

 A nearby imp mother and her baby glared at Blitzo.

 “What? I just said I’m not one, prude!” He flipped her the bird. A nearby film sign read “Pirana.”

 Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie walked along a line of booths, one read “Muppet” and one read “Knock a Bottle.” Millie suddenly beamed and pulled Moxxie toward another vendor. A smug imp wearing a yellow hat and a red shirt spotted them.

 “Hello, hello!” he called. “Step right up and win a thing!”

 Millie’s eyes shone as she gasped and pointed upwards. “Oh, look Moxxie! A thing!”

 The “thing” was a purple stuffed animal wearing pink overalls with stripped imp horns. It had a yellow beak, an upside down cross on it and a tag with “Thing?” on it.

 Moxxie looked at her with a grin. “Oh, you like that thing?”

 “Yessss!” Millie exclaimed, drawing out the word. “I don’t know what that thing is, but I want that thing!”

 Moxxie straightened his bow tie with a smug look. “Finally something I can handle.”

 He walked up to the vendor, took out some money and handed it to the carnie. “Okay! One game, please!”

 The carnie rolled his eyes and handed Moxxie a clown-like blaster with his tail. Moxxie pulled the trigger with one eye shut and the cork projectile hit the bullseye on the cardboard smiling apple’s behind. Millie clapped in the background. Moxxie made a “ricochet” noise and blew the black powder smoke clear of the gun.

 The carnie just grinned. “Strike one, little man!”

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “But I hit it!”

 “Hmm, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy. The target, see? It didn’t go down. So yeah, no go, bro.”

 Moxxie slammed another dollar bill onto the counter, picked up the gun and fired again. He hit the bullseye but the cardboard apple stayed in place. He slapped the pistol in annoyance. “The Heaven’s wrong with this thing?!”

 The carnie smirked. “Oh man, a real shame I tell ya. Whaa, whaa!” He pretended to cry and rub his eyes.

 Moxxie hissed in anger and slapped another bill on the counter. “Another!”

 Again and again Moxxie tried to hit it, but the carnie rigged the game, not making the apples go down. Soon, the carnie was holding 600 souls of Moxxie’s money, the dollar bills had Robo Fizz on them. He rolled one bill up into a cigar and put it in his mouth.

 “Wow! Man, you’re really starting to make this sad. You know, if you suck, you suck! Guess you won’t win your honey here a prize.”

  Moxxie seethed in anger.

 “Let me try!” Millie said, taking the blaster from Moxxie. She fired it and the cork flew far off between the apples. The carnie grinned mischievously, and pressed a foot pedal, making an apple target go down.

 “Oh, look at that! Lucky shot, baby,” the carnie said. He wiggled the rolled up bill against Moxxie and dropped it. Millie laughed and clapped.

 Moxxie yelled, “Are you kidding me?! You…you…charlatan!”

 The carnie pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face. “Hey, uh get lost pipsqueak, I’m talkin’ to the lady.”

 He leaned toward her and made a purring sound, causing her to flinch back in disgust.

   Meanwhile, Stolas pulled Octavia close with a gasp, letting go of his balloon.

“Look, Via! You used to cry such tears of joy at this show!”

 Stolas mentioned to a large circus tent with promotional signs of Robo Fizz on either side. A mother imp tried to drag her crying child toward the tent.

 “Oh no…” Octavia breathed, her white pupils constricting. A flashback of when she was a young girl came back to her. She was pushed against the stage by other cheering imp children. Robo Fizz was a robotic imp jester who posed on the stage with his arms spread out. An animatronic band was behind him. A neon sign above read “Fizzarolli and Friends,” with the “R” burnt out which made it look like “Fiends.” Robo Fizz sparked and cackled, wiggling his fingers and leering over a crying Octavia. Off to the side, a scowling Blitzo was dressed in clown makeup and attending a food cart.

 Back in the present, Octavia and Blitzo muttered at the same time: “I hate that fucking clown!”

 Meanwhile, Stolas happily waved as he was being held captive in the air by the gang of imps pointing weapons at him.

 “Oh Blitzy! I need my bodyguard, please!” Stolas smiled unconcerned before another imp jumped up and put a purple cloth sack over the owl’s head. Another imp grinned and held Stolas’ wallet. One imp jumped, trying to skewer him with a pitchfork. Blitzo turned around and fired his rifle, shooting the imp in the torso. Black blood splattered against the cloth sack over Stolas’ head. The imps dropped him and quickly scattered away. Blitzo carried Stolas into the tent and set him down on a wooden bench before leaving. Octavia sat next to him, rolled her eyes and removed the blood-soaked cloth form Stolas’ head. The owl blinked, wondering where he was.

 Two spotlights merged into one on the stage and Robo Fizz flapped open the curtains. He wore a jester outfit and his horns were covered with stripped cloth and little bells hung from the ends. A happy face and sad face pin were by his shoulders along with a string of lights as a necklace. His pants were stripped and he wore gloves. His shirt had small white hearts near the bottom and his eyes glowed an eerie green.

 Six lit up arrow signs pointed to him and read: “Fizzarolli,” “Robot property of Mammon,” “Look at him go!” “Yes! Love 2 c it!” “Wow!” “He.”

 Robo Fizz held up a sign with “Lu Lu” crossed out in red with “Loo-Loo, the better one,” on it. He also briefly held out a red and gold contract signed by Mammon: “This is a statement regarding the unfair accusations that my theme park “Loo-Loo Land” is trying to profit off my friend and ruler Lucifer’s park Lu Lu World. This is false. These allegations are baseless and untrue. You are all just dicks. Fuck right off and stop saying that, alright? They are legally distinct. I checked. Signed Mammon.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey implings!” he said in his showman voice. “It’s me, the Robotic Fizzarolli! Shipped from Mammon’s factory to bring you a wonderful show celebrating Loo-Loo Land (spelled with O’s to avoid lawsuits!) Hit it!”

 Rows of spotlights lit up and he began to sing. The curtains opened and Robo Fizz’s Five Nights at Freddy’s band played. An open clown mouth served as the stage backdrop. Robo Fizz rapidly pointed at a boy imp and a girl imp and made his rounds toward Stolas and Octavia. He moved back to the stage just as Blitzo aimed his sniper at him in warning. The band played on a rising structure shaped like a cake, decorated with eyes and sharp spikes.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 An animatronic bear and a smaller rabbit meshed together played a red banjo with a pentagram on it. A lopsided dinosaur played a guitar decorated with flames. A green frog with large human teeth played the Robo Fizz head drums and a brown dog played the triangle. The two speakers on either side were shaped like weapons and had skulls on them. “Fizzarolli and Friends” sign glowed at the top.

 “Loo-Loo Land! Loo-Loo Land!

Everything is beautiful in Loo-Loo Land!

Ugly children holdin’ hands

In Loo-Loo Land!”

 Robo Fizz briefly pulled a crowd of imps into a hug before spinning around and tossing them aside. They crashed back into the stands. He hugged the animatronic dinosaur which fizzled and slapped the bear and rabbit, which squirted black ink at a nearby imp.

 He poured gasoline onto a pile of “cease and desist” papers, causing them to go up in flames.

 “Everybody’s friendly, and nobody is mean

No copyright infringement’s ever seen!”

 In an imitation of Princess Charlie, Robo Fizz then posed on top of a piano. He stood on top, hand over his heart in the spotlight.

 “I have a dream (he has a dream)

I’m here to tell (he has to tell)

About a magical fantastic place called Loo-Loo Land!”

 He spun his body around and landed in a pose with arms and legs spread out. Octavia watched with disgust and boredom.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 The show ended with a pyrotechnic display. Green flames ate up one of the curtains and Robo Fizz laughed as he did a final pose up front. Octavia leaned her head back and pounded her fist on the bench in annoyance. Stolas cheered and rapidly clapped.

 “Ohhohohoho! How delightful! Haven’t had this much fun since the last Harvest Moon Festival…” Octavia hid her face in her hat again.

 Behind Stolas, an imp armed with a wave-shaped keris sword rose from beneath the seats, ready to stab him. The imp’s head was quickly blown apart by Blitzo at the back seats.

 “Oh! My, what aim you have, Blitzy!” Stolas praised.

 “Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!” Octavia shouted in frustration.

 “Octavia!” Stolas reached out in concern as the owl teen stormed off. Stolas chased after her as Blitzo followed suit. Robo Fizz cackled as he spotted the imp dashing along.

 “Ha ha ha hoho-oh! Is that Blitzo my sensors spot up there?” He emphasized the silent “O” in his name. “I bet the kiddies are still running away from you, huh?”

He spun his head around in loops and cackled.

 “The “O” is silent now!” Blitzo stopped and yelled.

 Robo Fizz mocked him some more and did wild dance-like poses. “Uh huh! Just like your audience always was when you to-told your lazy jokes here!”

 Blitzo tossed his sunglasses aside. “I make more money killing people than you do being a cheap-ass ripoff of an overrated sell-out jester!”

 “Oh ho ho! Someone’s salty! Real or not though, people love me! Does anybody love you…”

 His face turned dark and his eyes glowed menacingly, grin stretched wide, “Blitzo?!”

 “No. But I’m really good with guns now!” Blitzo took out his sniper. “Dance, bitch!”

 Blitzo slammed a new magazine into his rifle, switched it to full-auto and opened up on Robo Fizz, who cartwheeled out of the way of the rounds. He rapidly spun like a wheel up the stairs to where Blitzo was. He coiled himself around Blitzo like a snake, before using his momentum to launch the imp out of the tent.

 “Fuck meeeee!” Blitzo yelled.

 Outside, Wally Wayford, an imp with a southern accent was selling lit torches. There were two posters of Robo Fizz, the first was “Fizzarolli and the Handy Dandies.”

The other showed Robo Fizz with handcuffs:  “Robo Fizz Personal Companion. Gives and receives. Ribbed for your pleasure. Real tentacle action. Ten speed vibration. BDSM feature. Machine Washable.”

 “Torches, I say, I say!” Wally said in a southern accent. “Get your inconvenient torches here!”

 Blitzo landed on the cart with a yell, which scattered the green torches everywhere.

 “Ow…I say ow!” Wally yelled.

 The flames lit the big top of fire. The flames rapidly spread to all corners of the park. Burning animatronics fled the tent as Robo Fizz cackled with demonic glee at the chaos.

 Back at the blaster game, Blitzo had crash landed through the roof and into the pervert carnie just in time, saving Millie.

 “Sir?” asked Moxxie, surprised.

 “Oh hey guys!” a dazed Blitzo replied. “You should probably go and uh…make sure Stolas is okay! I got some…unfinished business to take care of.”

 Blitzo stood up and drew a brown flintlock pistol and fired. Robo Fizz swayed creepily toward Blitzo, a red eye showing on his burning grinning face, green flames behind him. The impact spun Robo Fizz’s head around…but the jester was unharmed by the shot.

 “Oh what a mouth!” Blitzo exclaimed as Robo Fizz caught the bullet in his mouth and spat it out. Blitzo grimaced as Robo Fizz rolled at him again. Moxxie, Millie and Blitzo jumped out of the way as the jester hit the booth, destroying it in a large explosion. Shrapnel and several white imp head prizes flew through the air on fire. The piece of a stuffed animal hit a young imp boy on the head, leaving him unconscious. The photographer then snapped the picture of the imp family.

 “Goddammit Nathan!” the fat father yelled. “You ruined another bloody photo! Why were you even born?!”

 Stolas wandered around other booths: Aim and Fire Shoot Apple, Happy Ducking, and a bomb themed Knok Knok game. One was called Eggs in the Basket, Poison Apples sold caramel apples decorated like slimy skulls and a dunking game was called Drown the Sinner.  

 Stolas then gasped. “Octavia!”

 Octavia ran into a fun house shapes like an elongated head of Lucifer. The face was white with the blushes on the cheeks and the eyes were green and snake-like. The steps were positioned onto a long tongue and the fun house entrance was shaped like Lucifer’s fanged mouth. A top hat and an apple reading “Fun House” was at the top. Stolas followed her inside as two grinning imps held rope and weapons close behind.

 The neon interior was filled with eyes, tubes, swinging pendulums, mirrors and disembodied hands. Stolas went further into the room and looked around. A sign reading “Smile” had an arrow pointed down at a tunnel. A shadow appeared behind Stolas as a random imp jumped onto his shoulders.

 “Um, I think I’m supposed to be body-guarded right now!” Stolas said, annoyed.

The imp covered Stolas’ mouth with his shirt sleeve, but was shot in the head, falling to the ground. Moxxie and Millie appeared in the entryway, Millie had just shot the imp.

 “Ugh. That’s better,” Stolas said, brushing his sleeve. “Where is Blitzy? He��s my knight in shining armor, not you littler ones.” Even his apple hat got an annoyed expression on it.

 The imps came over to him, Millie hugging the thing stuffed animal. “He’s…uh busy.”

 “Being a fool,” said Moxxie.

 “What kind of fool?” asked Stolas.

 “The “everything is now on fire,” kind,” Moxxie replied.

 Stolas left the imps, dodging two swinging pendulums, and headed down a tunnel into an adjoining room filled with eyes on the wall. He then spotted Octavia sitting in one of four apple-themed rail cars, crying.

“Octavia…” Stolas breathed. He took off his apple hat and it fell to the floor, the goofy face now a sad face, reflecting Stolas’ emotional state.

 Stolas scooted next to Octavia, leaving a bit of space between them. “I take it you are…not having fun.”

 “I didn’t even want to come here!” Octavia protested.

 “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought you loved it here.”

 Octavia glared at her father. “When I was a kid and my parents didn’t hate each other, and my dad didn’t flirt with some weird red dickhead the entire time.”

 Both owls looked downcast.

 “I’m sorry, Via,” Stolas said. “I’m sorry for everything happening right now. I know it’s a lot but I…uh…I should have listened.”

 “I just want to go home, but home doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You ruined it.” More tears fell from Octavia’s eyes as she shook her head and wiped more away with her arm.

 “You need to understand, you mother and I…” He stroked the back of his head, nervously. “I just…I felt…she’s always been…I haven’t been” He stuttered, “…we weren’t in…” He buried his head in his hands, “I’m sorry, I-I-I don’t have the words.”

 “Are you going to run off with him? And leave me behind? Go away where I can’t find you?”

 “What? No!” He pulled her close. “No, no, never. I’d never do that. Never.” Both of them embraced in a tight hug. “I think it’s time to leave this place,” Stolas said. Octavia smiled a bit through her tears. Despite his mistakes, her father loved her dearly. It wasn’t too hard to forgive him. Stolas lifted her up into his arms and continued, “You were right. You are too old for it, anyway.” He walked through an apple shaped opening.

 Stolas carried Octavia out of the Fun House as an imp grinned manically in the space above the drop-ceiling. The imp dropped down and flicked open a switchblade behind him. Stolas immediately turned around, his red eyes glowing brightly. The frightened imp was turned to stone on the spot, then was knocked over by a pendulum.

 As dusk feel outside, the park was reduced to pandemonium. Millie tried to shoot Robo Fizz who wildly rolled around. The red dragon picked up Robo Fizz, tossed him into the air before catching him and swallowing him whole. On the dragon’s back, Moxxie gaped in terror.

 Stolas and Octavia left the park gates.

 “So, what would you like to do now?” Stolas asked.

 Octavia smiled. “Oh, can we go to Stylish Occult? They sell weird taxidermy there.”

 “Hmm,” Stolas said reluctantly, but then said “Okay.”

 Octavia let out a small laugh. “Thanks, dad. You’re okay sometimes.”

 Stolas smiled down at her, his face bright against the starry sky above. It was nice to get a compliment from her. “Thank you Via. Thank you…”

 A massive explosion rocked the park, sending green flames shooting up into the air. The I.M.P. imps hurtled through the air, screaming before all three landed in front of the owls. All three were covered with smoke.

 “Way to ruin another good thing, sir!” Moxxie strained at Blitzo.

 “Worth it!” Blitzo replied, holding up a shaking finger. “That slutty toy clown had. It. Coming!”

 Moxxie and Blitzo then fell unconscious.

  In the darkness, Valentino’s hairless black dog Queef sniffed the unconscious Millie, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her still form away…

 Helluva Boss Episode Three: Spring Broken

Part One: Verosika

 The ground-shaking rock music blared as a gray van rolled along the street at high speed. The front hood of the van was loose and rattled up and down, showing a dark opening. The front headlights looked like a dark grate with a few yellow lights at the very ends. The small license plate at the front read “IMP-666” in black letters. Two red stripes streaked across the side of the van while the bold red and white I.M.P. decal was proudly displayed on the side door.

 “I love this song!” exclaimed the leader imp, Blitzo. He was wearing his usual work outfit; a navy blue coat with red buttons and a red pin at the front. Above Blitzo hung small red and white flags. In the center was a white toy horse with a blonde mane and tail. With his hands on the wheel, Blitzo belted out the lyrics:

 “You were the little spicy…uh… demon with the bleach blonde hair Fiendin' for some semen when I caught your stare Thought it might be love but you went too far Fucked all of my friends and blew up my car

 Lit me on fire made me watch rom-coms Made a secret sex tape and showed it to my mom You were a bitch kinda generally Now I'm a wet wild stallion and I'm running free

 You stepped on my nuts and you tore me apart Slapped up my booty and tangled my farts Cut off my dick when you shattered my heart But it grew back twice as long

 MUSTANG DONG!”

 Memories of him and a former lover were already rushing back to him. The song perfectly described his previous love life and though not very pleasant, was still fun to sing to. There were many times in his life where he considered horses to be better companions than his peers. An array of endless horse names and adventures he could conjure up in his head…

 Blitzo made “horn” rocker symbols with his hands as he nodded his head to the beat. In shotgun, Loona made a face of annoyance as she glanced at her black and white cell phone in her hands. She wore her usual shorts, torn gray tank top and black strings in the shape of a downward facing pentagram below her neck. In the back of the van, Moxxie covered both ears as he sat in the long red seat. He wore his usual dark coat and red bow tie. Millie rolled down her window and smiled as the breeze blew through her wild black hair. She had on her black tank top and torn pants as well.

 Blitzo drove the van into a reserved parking lot, surrounded by graffiti-sprayed buildings. A worn white banner on one building read “Buck you Flitzo” in bold capital letters. One of the buildings was decorated with a large red eye made of glass. Bizarrely enough, there was a billboard that advertised holy water. Blitzo haphazardly drove through the lot opening. He was just about to pull into the remaining empty space to the right when a pink convertible car beat him to it.

 “Holy shit! F…” Blitzo yelled, he and Loona both fearful. Blitzo rapidly turned the wheel and the horn sounded. He slammed on the brakes and the van skidded to a stop. The pink car had a red heart with gold trim on the back and a golden border. The license plate read “SUCK-4-LIFE.” The wheels had small white hearts on the dark inside, white rims surrounding them.

 An angry Blitzo rolled his head and turned off the radio.

 Oh, you “suck for life,” do ya?!” he asked as he glared at the car. He pulled out his white megaphone and leaned out the window.

 “Listen up, you unoriginal pink cum dump!” he yelled through the megaphone. “You have three goddamn seconds to get your dick out of my parking spot…”

 A pair of tall high heels lowered to the ground. The shoes were black with pink hearts on them. The figure wore black tight pants with three pink xs on the side. She wore a black and white dress, a black star on the lower half and a large X and O over her breasts. A sparkly light pink fluffy coat covered her shoulders. Her face was dark pink and a black choker was around her neck. She had a pointed tail, little bat wings and curved pink horns with a few black stars on them. Her hair was long and pinkish white, and sunglasses with pink hearts on them obscured her eyes.

 Blitzo lowered his megaphone in shock at the sight of the familiar succubus.

 “Oh shit! Verosika?!”

 The succubus blew a bubble of pink gum before it popped.

 “Blitzo,” she greeted, arms folded. She had pronounced the “o” on purpose to annoy Blitzo.

 Blitzo glared. “I should have known you’d be here. I could smell fish for miles. Which is odd because I believe the nearest ocean is…”

 Blitzo fell out through the window, face-planting onto the ground. He quickly stood up, pointing at the ground, “…three rings down!” He was referring to the Ring of Envy where the oceanic ruler Leviathan resided.

 “And I should have known you’d be here when I heard the Amber Alerts,” Verosika retorted. She held a white and brown flask bottle in her left hand. It was decorated with a small red and white heart near the top. “I.M.P. is a scam!” and “Swear word” were painted on a nearby brick wall.

 “Oh yeah?” he asked. “I’m surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab. I can see you’re still a drunken whore, clutching onto that beelzejuice juice bottle like it’s the last cock in Hell.”

 “They let me out because I’m still famous,” Verosika bragged, flipping back her long hair dramatically, “and rehab is for sad, loser wash-ups.”

 She took a drink from her bottle and wiped her black lipstick mouth with a gloved white thumb.

 “So your sister says hi,” she smirked, implying a temporary sexual relation with Tilla or Barbie Wire.

 Blitzo stomped over toward Verosika. “Why are you parking here?” he growled. “This is the only parking spot my company has. So take your tampon race car somewhere else.”

 Verosika leaned slightly toward him. “Actually prick, it has my name on it.”

 She pointed down at their feet, where “Verosika” and a heart was spray painted in purple over the previous black “I.M.P.”

 Verosika stood up. “I’m doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building…”

 “No way,” Loona breathed as she peered from the van.

 “…and they wanted to have me come in this week to lead their team during spring break.”

 “A week?!” Blitzo exclaimed. “No, no, you are not parking here for a fucking week!”

 Verosika removed her sunglasses, revealing pink irises with yellow sclera.

 “Aw, you mad, Blitzo?” she cooed in a mocking tone. “You gonna run off, leaving someone else to pay for the hotel room, steal their car…”

 Verosika and Blitzo talked over each other, “…and run three Rings to Wrath and back and max my credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons?!”

 Blitzo stomped his foot. “God dammit whore, you will not let that go!”

 Verosika walked past him, showing a middle finger. “Choke on a sandpaper cock.”

 Loona lowered her head as she walked by. Blitzo angrily followed Verosika.

 “Hold on, you better move that pussy wagon right now or I’m gonna…”

 Blitzo froze as he heard a low growling sound behind him. Towering over him was a beefy dark gray Hellhound man. He wore a torn black jacket decorated with red spikes along the shoulders. A black tattoo of a wolf with sharp teeth and a tongue out was on his left shoulder. He had thick eyebrows, torn pointed ears, a black nose and a scar over his milky left eye. His right eye was red.

 “You’ll what?” he grunted, showing his sharp white teeth.

 Blitzo stuttered and looked around, fearfully. “Or I’ll…um…I’ll…I’ll call HR.”

 Blitzo, Verosika and the Hellhound burst into sudden laughter before they calmed down.

 “Anyway,” said Verosika, “Meet my new Hellhound, Vortex. Unlike you, he actually does his job well.”

 Vortex walked by Verosika’s side as she left. She flipped off Blitzo again before saying, “Ta ta, fuck stain.”

 “Ugh, I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that,” Blitzo muttered in annoyance.

 Just then, Loona stepped out of the van. “You know Verosika Mayday?!”

 “Huh?” Blitzo asked. Then he casually answered, “Oh yeah, her, yeah, we dated.”

 “Was it before or after she became a pop star?” Millie asked in curiosity.

 Blitzo crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

 “You dated a popstar?!” Moxxie added as he stepped out of the van.

 “Okay, why are you all acting like that’s such a shock?” Blitzo asked.

 “Hello. It’s Verosika Mayday?” Loona replied.

 “It’s you?” Millie said. Moxxie and Millie were surprised that a famous person like Verosika would consider dating someone who was perceived to be far below her league.

 Moxxie scratched his head. “I just…Is she blind? Suffering some form of brain damage?”

 “Okay look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be,” Blitzo said. “I don’t pry into your stupid personal lives.”

 Loona, Moxxie, and Millie did overlapping yells:

  “You do that all the time, sir!” yelled Moxxie.

 “Come on, you do that,” added Millie.

 “You totally do that,” Loona agreed.

 Millie grinned mischievously, her eyelids lowering. “What was sex with her like?”

 “Millie!” Moxxie yelled, taken aback.

 “What?!” Millie shrugged. “It���s a pop star! You’d wanna know what sex with Michael Crawford was like.”

 Moxxie paused in mid argument. “Touché.”

 “Okay look, let’s just drop it!” Blitzo demanded. “Millie, find a temporary spot for that truck.”

 He tossed a pair of keys to a gleeful Millie, who caught them and scampered off.

 “Okay, Loonie, Moxxie, let’s go handle this shit.”

 In the building, Loona led the way between the imps as the three stepped out of an elevator. The dark brown walls were decorated with yellow webbed cracks. I.M.P. was painted in red on an office door window. The Hellhound nervously stepped forward, hands together.

 “Did they see me? Fuck! I did my makeup shitty today!” she muttered. Blitzo stared at her with shining eyes.

 “Oh you look perfect, Loonie. Like always.”

  She flinched away from him, arms crossed as she passed by a water cooler. A look of annoyance crossed Loona’s face at Blitzo baby-talking her.

 “Oh shut up da…” Loona began before seeing a look of adoration and wide eyes on Blitzo’s face. She had almost said, “dad.”

 “Urgh!” she caught herself and shoved him aside. “…Blitzo!” She checked her face in a small hand mirror, a wolf design on it. She then bumped into a long furry arm.

 “Oh. Whoa,” she breathed. Glancing down at her was none other than Vortex. Redness crept up to her cheeks and she wagged her tail. Blitzo briefly smiled at Loona before gasping in shock. He dashed between Loona and Vortex, arms out.

 “Hi big man,” he said. “Where’s your bitch bag of an employer?”

 “She’s in her office,” said Vortex in a low voice. “There wasn’t room on the second floor so they rented one here on this one. It’s way cheaper.”

 Vortex mentioned toward a room down the hall, across from the I.M.P. office. Three neon hearts stood right above two blue double doors. A large pink “V” and a pink “M” were painted on the door windows, standing for Verosika Mayday (and Vivienne Medrando, creator of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss!)

 “Oh come on!” Blitzo yelled.

 Vortex chuckled with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry man,” he said before walking away.

 “Oh no you don’t, bitch,” Blitzo muttered.

 “Sir,” Moxxie began. “How about you let me go in and try to reason with her. I don’t really listen to what’s classified as “pop genre” music, so her status to me is…”

 Blitzo tuned out Moxxie’s rambling.

 “Moxxie,” he said, “Shut the fuck up.”

 “All righty then,” Moxxie replied, pushing open one of the blue doors and going inside. Electronic music briefly sounded from inside the room. The room had been converted into a dimly lit recording studio, with mixing consoles, effects units, microphones and separate booths. The neon pink border just under the ceiling gave it a club-like atmosphere, as did the rows of beer bottles on the counters. The silhouettes of Moxxie, Verosika and her gang of demons were visible from a large glass window.

 “Hello Miss Verosika was it?” Moxxie asked, his eyes golden and glowing. “I work for Imp and it is actually rather important for us to retain the singular parking space we were assigned because…”

 A woman succubus with a bob of hair pointed at Moxxie. “Aw, look at the little one. He’s got a wittle bow tie!” The gang snickered.

 “Please don’t condescend me, ma’am,” Moxxie replied. “I…”

 A male incubi leaned close to Moxxie. “Wanna kiss, you little guy?”

 Moxxie stepped back. “A…A kind offer, but…I’m married.”

 Verosika stepped forward as her gang surrounded Moxxie. “Hey, why don’t you send a little message from me back to your limp-dick boss?”

 Verosika and her gang hissed with sharp shadowy mouths over Moxxie. The imp screamed “Don’t touch that!” Blitzo raced over and pressed both hands on the window pane.

 “Moxxie, do not let her access any of your holes!” he cried.

 Moxxie raced back into the hall, his back against the closed doors. He was shaken and battered, with red lipstick kisses all over his face.

 “I…I gotta go lie down…now,” he stuttered as he walked away.

 Blitzo fumed, veins popping in his yellow eyes. “Oh this won’t stand!”

 He boot-kicked both doors open, gaining the attention of his ex and her crew. There were other succubi and incubi with reddish pink skin, horns, pointed tails and small bat wings. A white-haired man wore a black collar with a black upside down cross around his neck. He wore a black short sleeved shirt with a red logo that read “burn forest burn” on it. His taller male partner wore a ripped black tank top with a circled X on it. His hair was black and he had a black goatee. Two demon women partners sat together as well. The first had long dark hair and wore a fishnet top and leggings. The white-haired succubi next to her wore short revealing overalls. Verosika stood poised in the middle.

 “Alright, (censored)! That’s it!” Blitzo yelled, marching over toward Verosika. “If you’re gonna be shitty to my employees…” he pointed a finger at her, “…then I challenge you to a fucking…challenge!” He leaned his head back in frustration. “Fuck, I said that twice.”

 The woman with long dark hair chuckled. “Is this imp boy starting a demon duel?”

 “I think he is,” Verosika replied with a snicker. She bent over toward the imp. “What’s the game then, Blitzo?”

 “Every year, you STD spreaders go topside for easy pickings while spring break is a prime time for crime of all kinds!” Blitzo responded. He grinned, “So I bet…you succu-bitches can’t fuck as many people as we can off by the end of the day.” He briefly made a hand gesture of a gun.

 Verosika and her gang burst into laughter. Blitzo glared in determination. Verosika and the others stopped laughing. “Oh, you’re serious?” Verosika asked. She leaned in and spoke to Blitzo in a low whisper, “Game on, bitch.”

 Later at I.M.P. headquarters, Blitzo stood in front of an easel full of paper and a large whiteboard flanked by bat wings near the top. There was a large bar graph drawn on the board along with horse drawings. On the left hand corner, Blitzo had written, “Potential Horse Names: ‘Grape Fiesta’, ‘Paperclip’, and ‘Soap’, -32.”  Moxxie, Millie and Loona sat in their usual spiked chairs around a long table to listen.

 “Alright, shut your assholes, here’s how were gonna do this shit,” Blitzo announced.

 “First, we find a fuck ton of clients…”

 The animated childish drawings on the paper showed Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie and Loona standing together. A crowd of imps and clients surrounded them and gave them hugs and piles of money.

 “We portal up…”

 The Blitzo drawing snapped his fingers and the I.M.P. figures fell down to earth.

 “We have our fun murder time as per usual…”

 The I.M.P. figures used guns to kill the human figures around them.

 “We pile all the bodies into a big fucking canoe…”

 Drawing Blitzo tossed the dead humans into a canoe that read “S.S. Cum Gutter.”

 “We push said canoe into some water. We light it on fire to attract the sharks and eagles and maybe a goose, too. Fuck it…”

 Animated drawings of sharks, snakes, eagles and a goose ate at the bodies on fire. A large octopus sea monster snapped the boat and everything up in its mouth.

 “They come and eat the bodies, we win the bet…”

 The I.M.P. figures cheered, while the Loona one wore a party hat and blew a noisemaker.

 “We rub it in that sloppy bitch’s drunken whore ass face.”

 The Verosika drawing burst into tears on her knees as the I.M.P. figures flipped her off several times.

 “Do you have any questions?” Blitzo asked as the real meeting continued.

 “Uh yeah, why was that nonsense?” Moxxie deadpanned.

 Blitzo walked over to him. “That wasn’t a question.”

 “That wasn’t a plan,” Moxxie retorted.

 Blitzo put a hand around Moxxie. “I’m sorry, but that was a flawless presentation of what we should do, Mox. It’s not my fault you’ve got a smooth little brain upstairs.”

 “A what now?” Moxxie asked, eyebrows raised.

 “I’m calling you slow, Moxxie. God, why don’t you learn to take criticism, you talentless baby dick troll?” He pointed his finger into Moxxie’s chest several times as he spoke.

 An angry Moxxie stood up on the table. “Well why don’t you take an art class?”

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie by the collar and threw him back onto the chair. “Why don’t you see how expensive they are?!”

 Loona interrupted the argument, still holding her cell phone. “Hey, is there a way I can come with you guys this time?”

 Blitzo crossed his arms in disapproval. “Absolutely not. I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. Spring break is no place for young vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks up there who drool all over you.”

 All four characters glared into the camera, breaking the fourth wall.

 “Well, I can blend in with humans easy enough,” Loona explained. “Just let me tag along.”

 “Wait, say that again,” said Blitzo.

 “I can blend in?” Loona reiterated.

 “You have a human disguise?” Millie asked.

 “Yeah. Don’t you?”

 The three guilty imps nervously looked at each other, eyes darting from side to side.

 “You three have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time, without human disguises?!” Loona asked in disbelief.

 “Okay, new plan!” Blitzo called, rapidly scribbling on a piece of paper. He placed the paper on the easel, showing Loona surrounded by human figures with tiny hearts around them.

 “Loonie can help lure the humans to us and we’ll take care of the rest. Okay how about that?”

 “Flawless logic,” Millie smiled in agreement.

 Moxxie held up a clawed finger. “I think you’re missing the biggest issue, sir. Isn’t it crucial to have a client who demands enough kills to win this bet? We aren’t just going up to massacre.”

 Blitzo smirked in response. “I got that covered, Mox.”

 Not long after, Blitzo stuck a flyer onto a pole. It read “Spring Break Victim 50% Off!” It had a drawing of Blitzo, a dead victim and little cartoon horses.

 Blitzo strode to Moxxie. “Now, we wait.”

 Moxxie shook his head. “Sir, there is no way we are going to get enough clients by the end of the day with one poorly spelled bad grammar flyer!”

 Both Moxxie and Blitzo paused and looked over to see a line of a dozen creatures looking in curiosity at the flyer under the Pride Ring’s blood red sky. They arrived in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some of them were imps and others were sinners. There was a pink fluffy monster with black eyes, an orange fly trap plant wearing librarian glasses, a fox with thick white hair, a humanoid dog with pointed ears and a hook for a hand. Next to a teal lizard lady with dyed hair stood a tall man wearing a blue suit with a deer skull for a head. Even Travis, a gray owl demon, was there.

 Blitzo elbowed Moxxie with a smug grin before strolling over to the other demons. “Now, who’s first?”

  Part Two: At the Beach

 The beach in the human world was alive with humans from everywhere. Men, women and children happily walked around, relaxed under umbrellas, or had snacks. Several surf boards stood up in the sand by a decorated teal wall with a wavy orange design taking up the center. The crowd was positioned between a wooden dock and a makeshift stage. Two women wearing sunglasses got comfortably close and kissed each other in the shade. A muscular dark skinned man talked with a red haired woman while a blonde guy wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap shook a bottle of pills into his mouth. Above the beach lay a small row of shops. One sign read “Pawn Paradise.” One sign read “hotel” in red letters while another sign read “Sea cream” with a teal ice cream cone structure next to it. Another sign read “Pico Puncho Pizza” and another read “Dagon Juice” and had a green fish with a sailor’s cap on it.

 In the shadows under the dock, the I.M.P. crew emerged from algae covered rocks.

 “Now remember, we can’t be seen, alright?” Blitzo reminded them. “And loose shots will likely cause a panic, so Loona can help with leading targets to a better spot to off them. You got the list, Loonie?”

 Loona skimmed the list in her hands and gave it a sniff. “Got it.”

 She dropped the paper, stood up and walked into the light. A rush of swirling blue magic enveloped her before it vanished.

 Loona was now in human form. She opened her red eyes and brushed her thick light gray hair with her hands. She wore her same dark crop top and high black shorts but she now had white skin, two bars in her right ear and a partially shaved head. She had gray eye makeup on and a black choker around her neck. Her pale midriff, arms and legs were visible.

 All three imps stared in amazement.

 “Oh Loonie, look at you!” Blitzo breathed. “You look downright awful!”

 Loona glared at him.

 Blitzo wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.” He pointed ahead. “Now go fetch!”

 Loona peered in front of her with a hand over her eyebrows to help block out the light. Her target humans were outlined in red in her vision. Loona smirked and strolled over to a tall dark haired muscular man wearing sunglasses. She moved a finger toward his chest and gave him a flirtatious grin. She mentioned behind her to a private alleyway. Loona led him into the alleyway and leaned casually against the wall. The man reached out to grab her in lust but was immediately shot in the head by Blitzo spying on the roof. He gave Loona a thumbs up.

 Later on, a blonde man ran to Loona in an alleyway with a hungry lustful look on his face. He was caught in a noose by Blitzo. A random “music band” poster hung on the wall. On a rooftop, a brown haired man leaned in to kiss Loona, but Millie knocked him off the roof with a kick. The man fell into a green dumpster that Moxxie slammed shut. Loona walked with a fat man down the sidewalk and a flower pot crashed fatally into his head. Blitzo killed a woman with a knife, Millie killed a white haired woman with a spiked baseball bat, and another woman got shot in the head.

 Blitzo and the gang put the bodies in bloodstained dark trash bags, closing them. In the background, Millie happily jumped on another body.

 “That’s nine kills in the bag!” called Blitzo. “I’d like to see that waily snatch orgasm that many…”

 The imps froze when they heard a voice through a microphone. It was Verosika Mayday on stage, in her human form. Her shadowy silhouette in the clearing smoke resembled her demon form. She had blonde hair, tan skin and wore black leggings and high heels. She wore a pink skirt and a matching frilly top that revealed her right shoulder. She had a small black heart on her right cheek. The background lights were pink, giving the appearance of moving hearts. “Verosika Mayday” was on a pink banner overhead. Verosika appeared on two screens on either side of the stage, showing moving hearts of red, pink and white for the background. Six pink spotlights shone on her.

  “All right spring breakers! Are y’all ready get fucked up and make some bitching bad choices?!”

 The crowd cheered in affirmation. A white teen boy with short blonde hair tore off his shirt and yelled “Verosika!” He had her name written in pink on his bare chest.

 Verosika sang her song:

 “All aboard

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 V-time, free time, baby relax

Self-care, no hair, Brazilian wax

Hardtop succu-bus to the beach

Catch some rays while catching some D

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 Hot dog, hot bod, sausage and buns

Threesome, fivesome, having some fun

Back to my place, welcome to Hell

Sun’s out, hormones out, how does it smell?

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown”

  Verosika performed her song on stage and took a drink from her bottle. “Fuck you Blitzo” appeared on the screens as Blitzo seethed. The humans made out with others around them. The humans kissed, hugged, and gave each other anal. One dark woman succubus showed a love-struck man a popsicle with semen-like saliva on it. She grinned and threw herself onto the human male. An incubi with dark hair in human form smiled and snapped his fingers at a blonde man…his sunglasses fell off his surprised sunburned face. Several more succubi and incubi grinned and snuck up on the humans.

 Blitzo was furious. “God dammit, that bitch started her godish mating call! Now she’s gonna win all those sex maniacs. We gotta pick things up, guys! He on the list, Loonie?”

 Blitzo mentioned to a vomiting long haired blonde man in boxer shorts.

 Loona appeared distracted, not even looking at him. “Huh? Yeah I think so.” Loona was staring at a tall muscular black skinned bouncer by the stage: a human Vortex.

 “Good!” Blitzo called.

 The blonde man looked up at Blitzo in a stupor.

 “Whoa, what are you? A leprechaun? Hahaha!”

 Blitzo raised a sharp black and red ax. “Oh yeah, pretty cool, huh?”

 Blitzo smashed the man’s head open with the ax, causing blood and brains to splatter.

 “But you sure as shit ain’t gonna tell nobody.” He looked over. “All right, next one, Loonie, come on.”

 Blitzo rapidly glanced around, but Loona wasn’t where she was a moment before.

 “Where’s my baby?!” he cried in a panic. Millie pointed toward the stage. “Look!”

 Loona nervously made her way through the crowd, avoiding a French-kissing couple and tossing aside a bra that landed on her head. A squealing fanboy ran toward Verosika but Vortex punched him into the ground, head first. He dragged the teen away in the distance as Loona watched. A male incubus appeared as a white skinned human with short white hair. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at her. With a roll of her eyes, Loona landed an uppercut on his chin, causing him to fall.  

 “Now, who wants a piece of this?” Verosika called as she took one last gulp.

 She tossed her flask into the ocean, creating a small golden portal. A fish appeared, which rapidly grew in size.

 Loona walked sideways over toward Vortex.

  “Hey, you,” she tried.

 “Hey,” Vortex replied. “You’re the hound working for my boss’s freaky ex.”

 “Yeah. Sorry if that’s weird.”

 “It’s cool,” he shrugged. “Her beef ain’t mine. I’m not paid enough to care.”

 Loona laughed nervously. “Yeah. Yeah.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m Loona!”

 “Okay.” In her giddy tone he repeated, “I’m Vortex!” Both chuckled.

 “That’s hot,” Loona said with a grin. Then her face turned red and flustered. “I mean like literally you know because vortexes, you know, they give off heat. Probably.” She pointed both fingers in a snap, trying to act cool.

 Vortex chuckled lightly. “Uh, yeah. I guess. But my friends call me Tex.”

 “Oh yeah. I wish I had friends. I mean no, I mean, I don’t. I…I don’t have friends.”

 Just then, Blitzo arrived, moving himself between them.

 “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Nah man. Just having a conversation,” Vortex replied.

 Blitzo narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at him. “’Conversation’ leads to HPV!” Loona clenched her fists in frustration.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hid behind several metal beer barrels.

 “And… we lost him,” Moxxie declared. “Huh, it’s looking like it’s up to us handle this list.”

 Millie’s face shone in excitement. “Hell yeah! Team M and M, getting shit down, making the money!”

 Moxxie and Millie ran off holding hands in the sunset and killed more people. A sign read “Senpai, notice me.”

  Loona pinched her nose. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Loona said to Blitzo in concern. “You’re gonna get us all into shit.”

 “I just wanted to see what was so important that you’d be distracted from your job.”

 Loona angrily pulled Blitzo away from Vortex.

 “What, I can’t have a break?”

 Blitzo yelled at the top of his lungs. “We have a parking spot on the line!”

 “Hey dude,” Vortex mentioned as he walked over. “Why don’t you chill out?”

 Blitzo wagged a finger. “Why don’t you stay out of it?”

 He turned back to Loona.

 “Okay, this is our business.” He pointed to the ground and in his tail was a drawing of Blitzo killing a person, a horse followed by an equal sign and dollar signs. “Literally.”

 Loona clenched her fists and briefly leaned forward in anger. “Oh fuck Blitzo! Why can’t you stay out of my face for like five minutes?!”

  “Because I adopted you! And that should mean something.”

  “Oh what does it matter? You’re not my real dad! I was almost eighteen.”

 “It still counts.”

 “Well it shouldn’t. I didn’t need you then, asshole! I don’t need you now.”

 A tense silence followed. Both of them crossed their arms, their backs to each other. Both faces showed hurt expressions.

 As a young pup, Loona had been left to fend for herself by her real neglectful parents. She had lived a life of meth addiction, sex, fighting and insecurity with no real friends. Blitzo was perhaps the first person to truly care about her. He took her in as a teen and adopted her…and she had worked at I.M.P. ever since. Loona already felt bad at what she had just said. But there was no taking it back.

 She stuttered, trying to say something.

 “Uh, Blitzo…I…”

 “Enjoy your break, Loonie,” he replied. “I’m gonna go kill something.”

 Loona sighed sadly as he left.

 “Damn, girl. That was savage,” Vortex remarked sympathetically. He placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

 Loona blushed heavily, forcing a smile.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. He’ll get over it. He usually does.”

 “I’m glad you could stick up for yourself, at least,” Vortex mentioned. “Hmm. Takes guts.”

 “Thanks,” Loona smiled.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie looked to the left and right from behind the beer cans on a table. Beer can and bottles were everywhere. Moxxie ducked back behind them, watching as Millie loaded her crossbow. The two imps smiled and kissed.

 A man with a baseball cap, sunglasses and a tie-dye shirt that read “Kool” threw down a beer can. “Yeah! Party!” he yelled. The man pointed both fingers in the air and then promptly flipped the table, sending the imps flying. Moxxie landed on the ground as the beachgoers stepped back.

 “Eww!” exclaimed a red haired woman in disgust, pointing down at him. “Oh my god! It’s a fucking possum!”

 Moxxie tried to scurry off, but a man picked him up. “Oh crumbs!”

 “I got it!” called the guy with “Kool” on his shirt, holding up Moxxie in the air. A muscular blonde man held a large beer barrel. The first guy tossed Moxxie inside while the second one closed the lid. “We put him in the keg,” one of them said. The other people cheered as Moxxie was carried away. “Beer is awesome!” they cheered. While he was inside, he gulped down the beer around him. The people tossed the barrel and played catch with it before leaving it behind.

 Millie dashed from behind the beer cans, arriving at the barrel Moxxie was in. The barrel wobbled, surprising Millie. She placed her ear to it before tipping it over. Moxxie spilled out on his back with the remaining beer.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried.

 “Millie! Hi! Hey!” Moxxie slurred, rolling onto his back and looking at her upside down. “Hey, when did you get four heads? I wanna kiss ‘em!”

 He made smooching noises before Millie picked him up.

   Suddenly, a large gush of water rose up from behind them. A dark shadow passed over their faces, darkening the sky. The humans glanced up in shock. Even the demon gang and Verosika looked on in fear and surprise. A woman pointed upwards and several people ran off. A giant foot crushed a man lying on a turtle towel. Blood splattered everywhere and onto the crowd of humans. Another woman screamed and the humans ran for their lives. Blitzo was in the process of chocking a drinking man from behind, when he, too, stopped to look.

 It was a giant black Leviathan fish monster!

 The fish had large teal eyes, fins, white whiskers and dozens of blue sharp teeth. The beast let out a fierce, ear-shattering roar.

 “Oooh, fish,” Moxxie grinned stupidly in his drunken haze.

 Like a deadly vine, a long spiked tongue wrapped around Moxxie and pulled him toward the fish. Millie watched in horror as Moxxie was wrapped up above the large maw before the fish snapped its jaws shut.

 Millie got into a fighting stance. She glanced to her left and spotted a fat man drinking and wearing sunglasses. She stabbed him with a knife and tore off a piece of his towel. With her knife in her mouth, she lit the cloth on fire over a vodka bottle, creating a Molotov cocktail. Millie tossed it toward the monster, sending the fish stumbling and crashing down into the sea.

 Wasting no time, Millie swam toward the monster and cut upwards along its scaly body with her knife. Using all her strength, she pried open the monster’s mouth. Moxxie was punching the monster’s uvula, still wrapped up in the tongue.

 Millie reached for him with her hand. Moxxie reached too, then gave her a high five. Millie grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him up. She used her other hand and foot to support herself on the monster’s teeth. She pulled as hard as he could, but Moxxie wouldn’t budge.

 Just when she lost her grip, she slashed her knife across the tongue, slicing a piece off. In a roar of pain, the monster spat Moxxie out. Moxxie spread out his arms, enjoying the feeling of flying. Back on the beach, a man flinched as the tongue piece landed on the ground. Moxxie landed in Blitzo’s arms. The man cheered before Blitzo shot him with a gun. Moxxie cheered drunkenly.

  Back inside the monster’s mouth, Millie rapidly punched at the tongue, trying to get out. The monster roared in pain and anger, slashing around as Millie wrestled with it.

 “I love that woman!” Moxxie declared.

 Blitzo smirked. “Oh she totally pegs you, doesn’t she?” Indeed, Millie was dominant in the bedroom and Moxxie loved it.

 Millie leapt into the air, knife aimed downward. She fell back inside the mouth…then sliced off the fish’s head from the inside. A gush of blood flowed out from the monster before it landed with a final thud into the water. Millie walked back to shore and dropped her knife, exhausted.

 Blitzo and Moxxie cheered. “Oh yeah, way to show off, Mils!” Blitzo called.

 “Is Mox okay?” Millie panted.

 Blitzo glanced at the drunken Moxxie. “Oh yeah, he’s fine,” he casually said before dropping him onto the sand.

 Millie raced over and held Moxxie in her arms.

 Moxxie grinned at Millie with a doped expression. “This is funny. I’m soooo… drinky.”

 Millie just smiled and hugged him.

 Blitzo scowled and crossed his arms. “Okay, this is too wholesome for my liking.”

 “Blitzo!” Verosika called.

 “Oh perfect,” he said sarcastically. He turned around to the human-disguised gang of seducer demons. “That must be the whores!”

 Verosika was flanked by four succubi and an incubi disguised as humans. “That was handled rather…obvious, don’t you think?” She grinned a smug grin.

 Millie held up Verosika’s flask. “I don’t think this belonged to any of us.”

 Millie tossed the flask to Verosika who caught it with one hand. She dropped it into one of the succubus’ hands.

 “Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world,” Millie added with a grin.

 Even Moxxie laughed out loud, pointing at them. “Oh Satan! You all be so fucked!”

 Verosika briefly looked concerned, then sneered. “Yeah, well you three nasty ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises.”

 Moxxie fell to his knees and face-planted into the sand. He lifted his head up. “A human called me a possum. I am not a possum.” He face-planted again.

 Blitzo stepped forward and moved Moxxie out of the way with a foot. “You know, we could keep this little B movie scene on the down low if you agree to let us use that parking space.”

 Verosika, not wanting to get in trouble, relented with a sigh. “Fine.”

 Blitzo raised both arms in the air. “We fucking won!”

 “Fuck yeah!” Millie cheered.

 “In your face, bitch!” Blitzo taunted Verosika, who scowled.

 She glared at Blitzo one last time. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Tex!”

 Vortex stood with Loona not too far from the empty stage. “Well, guess it’s time to bounce, but hey, if you’re ever down to party, I’ll give you a ring sometime.”

 Loona smiled in excitement. “Really? I mean, Yeah. Yeah.”

 “Yeah. My girlfriend throws a ton of crazy hound parties.”

 “Nice. Can’t wait for my first one.”

 “Let’s get you some friends, girl.”

 Vortex gave her a playful punch before following Veroskia. Loona looked downcast at seeing Vortex leave and being reminded of her confrontation with Blitzo. Vortex already had a girlfriend and he wasn’t coming with her. Now she would go back to doing her usual secretary work. With Hell being “every demon for themselves,” it was hard to make true friends, especially if one was of lower class and lost in dark thoughts all the time. Loona could not deny to herself that she often felt like a lone wolf.

 Millie carried Moxxie and jumped into the portal.

 “Come on, Loonie tooney!” Blitzo called to her. “Let’s go back and park our fat fucking car in our fat fucking space!” He ran off into the portal.

 Loona followed Blitzo and fell through the portal on her back.

 Blitzo mockingly gave Verosika double middle fingers through the portal from behind her. Verosika growled in anger after noticing. She and her gang made their way up the stairs and onto the street.

 A policeman yelled, “Put your hands up, you sick deviants!”

 The gang huddled in fear as guns were trained on them. They were surrounded by police cars, a SWAT team, men on horses and a helicopter. A clown and a mime robot were also with the police.

 Verosika sighed in defeat. “Alright, sluts, get ready to suck a lot of pig dick.”

Her gang members groaned in disgust as they raised their hands in surrender.

[howaboutleeches]

Think about it. Pirate!Julian encounters Pirate!Reader when their crews start a bar fight

"Are you a good man, Captain?" (Captain!Pirate!Julian Devorak x Captain!Pirate!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, stabbing, woman-shaming,talking about death

Word Count: 1,615

"So I said to him, I said "Bernie, you pop that gum one...more...time"" Jackie had the attention of the whole bar as she told her storie, standing on a table"And he did. So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots...into his head"

I could hear a few gasps, a glass falling and a chick high fived Jackie as she got down the table, finishing her storie.

"And that's how I killed my husband, became a fugitive and joined this lovely crew" She winked at her mates and nodded her head at me.

"That's bullshit!" A guy yelled from the back.

Heads turned, including mine and Jackie's and a tall, muscular man, body filled with tattoos and a scar across his face, had his arms crossed over his chest, face filled with disbelief.

"And why do you think that?" Jackie copied his posture and crossed her arms as well.

"Are you kidding? You're a woman! Your type shouldn't even be allowed on the ship. I mean, only the ones who warm our beds" Some men matched his deep and disgusting laugh.

"I think you should shut your craphole before I stick my sword into it" Jackie drew her sword before I could even notice.

"Bring it on, sea whore" The man also drew his sword, a very long one.

"You know what they say about men with big swords?" Jackie grinned as she held up her pinkie finger. That made him growl in anger.

I decided it was better to step up before something bad happened. Climbing down from the high window I was sitting on, I walked to the middle of the bar, raising my captain hat from my face.

"Please, please, fellas. Why fight? Can't we just enjoy this beautiful night, drink some rum and tell more stories?" After finishing my sentence, I could only feel a breeze over my head as an axe flew over it.

I clenched my fist and turned to the direction where the axe came from and a very skinny man looked at me, terrified. Poor man, I would go easy on him.

"Ooookay, ladies and gentlemen" I turned around, waltzed away from the opposite crew and jumped on top of a table, grabbing the axe and yanking it out of the wall "get ready for a fight!"

Screams and roars came from both sides of the room and soon enough one crew was fighting the other, punches, kicks and all other types of attack were happening in the bar. I was ready to join the fun when something caught my eye.

A red headed man, helping other people to go up the stairs. Were they escaping? Definitely not on my watch. I analyzed the saloon and decided the safest and fastest way to cross it was going behind the counter. I ducked, walking close to the ground and made my way.

While crossing the bar unseen, I could see Jackie fighting the asshole from before. I jumped over the counter, pulled my small dagger from my belt and stabbed him in the back. The man let go of his sword and seeing that opportunity, Jackie kicked him in the jewels, giving me a thumbs-up.

"I'm going upstairs. I saw some of them trying to escape. Hopefully I'll be able to catch at least one"

"Maybe you could even catch the captain" He joked and I couldn't help but to snort.

"Those pigs only care about themselves. They are always the first ones to flee. Their captain is far far away" And finishing my sentence, I dashed to the stairs going to the second floor.

As usual, it was a corridor with many doors. Rooms for voyagers, couples who wanted some privacy and drunks who didn't want to go home and had some money in their pockets.

The last door though was sprung open, still banging on the wall because of the wind. They were still here. And if I ran fast enough, I could still catch at least one of them. Hopefully he would be the talker type.

Running through the corridor, I could feel myself burning up with excitement. It was always a win to come back with a prisoner. But going into the room, I saw something completely unexpected happening.

The read headed man was helping people out of the window. But that's wasn't odd. The thing that actually intrigued me was seeing a captain's hat hanging from his belt.

"My oh my, what do we have here?" The last person had just exited through the window when the man turned to me in shock.

He tried to jump out of the window before I could catch him, but his long legs made him trip on himself and falling all spread out on the floor. I walked with my hand on my hips, going over him and sitting on the edge of the window.

"What kind of captain are you?" I crossed my legs and adjusted my hat so that he could see my whole face.

He sat abruptly on the floor, almost falling again, and crossed his legs like a child "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You were almost invisible down there, didn't make a scene or a fuss, didn't start any drama, didn't interrupt nor encouraged the fight and even helped part of the crew to escape? Your no ordinary captain"

"Darling, you would be surprised by how peculiar I can be" He got up, putting on his hat, just to take it off again in a swift movement, bending over to me and extending the hat "Julian Devorak, Captain Devorak or whatever you wanna call me"

I got up myself, feeling slightly intimidated by his height but keeping my pose "(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Captain (Y/L/N) or whatever you wanna call me".

"You sure are very fierce, Captain, I actually though you would choke me to death" Captain Devroak took a step closer to me and gave me a devilish smirk.

"I mean, if you are into that" I almost pressed our chests together, leaving only a few inches between us "...it can be arranged"

He blushed and it did something to my body that I had never experienced before. His shyness made me feel shy as well. He had this magnetism that made me want to get close to him.

He stated to stutter, trying to respond to my dirty comment and leaned his hat lower, trying to hide his face due the embarrassment. But unfortunately, I wasn't taking any of that.

I placed my hand softly on his hat and removed it from his head, tossing it to the side. His hair was messy now and I could finally analyze him. His hair reminded me of the burning fire of a fireplace and his skin looked like porcelain. Almost to delicate to touch but starving for any type of contact.

I realized the eyepatch he had and I wonder why he had it. There was s small lump on it, so there was definitely an eye in there, but it wasn't the time or place to ask about it...yet. I noticed his lips quivering and decided to take the lead. I grabbed him by his cloak and pulled him closer.

"Tell me captain, why did you leave the rest of your crew downstairs?" He looked relieved when he realised I wasn't teasing him anymore.

"They aren't actually part of the crew. Those bastards tagged along a few days ago and we all found it very strange. They started bothering the women of the ship and that was unacceptable. We tried to fight them, but they had one of them hostage. My plan was to get them drunk as a distraction and leave them behind. But I guess your crew took better care of that part"

"I see" I pulled his cloak in a way that made him lean down, faces coming closer "Now tell me, Captain, are you a nice, good and honorable man?"

He chuckled, getting his confidence back "Definitely not, Captain. I'm reckless, rowdy and completely bad"

I could help but laugh a little of him "Uhmm, that's exactly how I like it"

I stretched my whole body to be able to brush my lips against his and he placed his gloved hand on my back. We looked at each other's eyes and I could definitely see a sparkle on his.

"Captain! We won!" Jackie bursted into the room and Julian turned his head while I ducked to the side to look at her "Ooooh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were, well, yeah. I'm, uh, going down and, well, see ya!"

We kept looking at the door until the sound of her footsteps were nothing but a simple memory. We stared at each other again and starting laughing, still holding onto one another.

"Now that was a mood breaker" I pressed my forehead against his chest and he sighed.

"Well, I'm sure we'll be able to continue our fun another time"

My eyes went wide and I smiled at him "We are having a party tonight at my ship, you and your crew should come!" I realized I sounded to excited and fake coughed "I mean, only if you want to"

He laughed lightly and kissed my cheek "It'll be my pleasure, darling"

I let go of his clothes and walked past him, going out of the room, but stopping before he vanished from my sight "Maybe you can show me how bad you are"

I ran down the corridor, rushing down the stairs, excited and giggling like a teenager. I couldn't wait to tell Jackie all the juicy details.