nomorefstogive

[nomorefstogive]

I am curious do you want some arknights lore. If you look up what demons are in arknights, They are very similar to war hammer monsters.

I would appreciate it, I know pretty little about the demons or Collapsals as I have seen them called other than that they seem to be infinite in number, distort the areas around them, and grow in power and number the more people become aware of them.

Some one said something I agree with on a video discussing the Emperor's Blades wwhere they said that Ursus willing to go so far as to use these things as a source of power is something that shows you just how far the Empire has fallen and just what its ambitions for the rest of the world would be.

That said, I am wondering if we will ever have to fight them in the campaign at some point, given the huge role they have played on Terra and the sheer threat they pose.

Also, I apologize for not being as active on here as I used to be, I have been bouncing between several projects and dealing with other issues that have kept me from being able to divert as much time to this site as I used to.

[nomorefstogive]

Our Dearest Sin Chapter 5: Good Wolf

Author’s Note: Hello again everyone, today we come to you with something that is the brainchild of ourselves and the wonderful JimBoRee, without whom this fic would likely have been of much less quality so please go and show his fics due love.

With that said, what we have for you today is quite rare in this fandom, indeed it is rare enough to be near to unheard of by most, that being a Submissive Zoya fic, within which the great and terrible White wolf of Syndicate allows for her leash to be held by the one she loves and respects most of all, her beloved Chief.

Please note that within this fic is a depiction of a BDSM ritual that we thought up for this idea, it will become more clear when you reach that part of the fic and we will elaborate on it more at the end of the story.

With all of that said and done, let the show begin!

Also TW for, and here is hoping we get everything: BDSM scenes including painplay and overstimulation. Descriptions of sex toys. Fairly graphic depictions of sexual content being mentioned. Light mentions of blood. Mentions of Shibari and Aphrodisiacs.

It was not the kind of scene one would expect from a professional meeting, a woman with gray hair resting herself not on her chair but on the lap of a woman easily near to twice her height, short silver-gray hair mingling with the longer locks of the woman that sat on her lap, the gray coat clad woman they had come to meet had her eyes closed as instead of platinum-gray they were met with bright blue eyes that seemed alight with an internal glow that gazed upon them with such intensity they found themselves frozen in place, unable to do much more than breath as she adjusted herself.

A smile curled itself across the taller woman’s face as she lifted a hand to delicately tap on the table, metallic finger coverings generating sharp clicks with each delicate rap of the digits upon the hard wood, her other hand raising to let her rest her head against it as the smaller woman adjusted herself to look at them directly, a low sigh slipping past her lips as she mumbled something under her breath, a low rumble like distant thunder building in the taller woman’s chest as she let out a low chuckle as she lifted the smaller woman off of her lap and let her take her seat before she moved to stand beside her.

It was as she moved that those present realized they had been slightly off with their estimates, the woman did not just stand a bit taller than the woman in the chair, no she towered over her, lean and powerful muscles easily visible even under the stygian leather attire and heavy coat of spiked black leather that she wore, the mane of white fur and her claw like jewelry, alongside of those blazing eyes that even now had them rooted in place, and the gleaming fangs that became visible as the woman smiled at them, all gathered to give the impression of a wild beast, a great and terrible wolf to rival even dread Fenrir.

Though this was no mere beast, for no beast could speak with a voice that seemed fit to make the room itself tremble as she spoke up, fang gleaming as she lifted an arm to beckon them in, a spike clad shoulder plate visible amidst the gesture as she called out to them-

“Well? Are you going to stand there gawking all day or are you going to take a seat? Didn’t your parents ever teach you it's rude to keep a lady waiting?”

Dazed and confused the gathered group looked at one another before one of their number who had dealt with the woman sitting at the end of the table before shouldered past them, the group watching as this man, bowed under the weight of a long life and many hardships, strode past them without a care, the rhythmic tapping of his cane the only sound to fill the room as he walked towards a place near the sitting woman, his hand having barely raised to pull out his chair before a voice cut through the still air.

“Zoya, help Mr. Feldgreen to his chair please.” The voice was low and calm, unbothered by the tension in the room and of the way that it had just addressed the towering figure, the smaller woman not even bothering to divert her gaze from the papers she was looking over to see if the taller woman had acquiesced to her words, confident in the knowledge that they would be obeyed with no other incentive needed and thus freeing her to look over the offers made by the gathered group to utilize her Sinners to safeguard a visiting diplomat.

Yet greater still a shock there came to the group as they saw the towering woman throw back her head and release a barking laugh that seemed fit to make the entire room shake as she did just as she had been asked to, her claw clad hand pulling out one of the large wooden chairs as though it weighed less than a sheet of paper, the elder man merely offering her a silent nod of gratitude before he took his seat, allowing for here to push him and his chair into proper placement before she resumed fixing her gaze upon them.

“Well? Are your legs not working or something? Take your seats or I’ll help you to them.” Came the booming voice of the woman, her canines flashing in the light as she offered to those gathered the smile of a wolf spying a bloodied rabbit before it, the gleam of baleful light in her eyes making a chill race down the spines of those gathered before her gaze as they moved to take their seats, the towering woman stalking behind each of them to make sure that they were in place as she circled them. 

Beads of sweat began to trace their way down the brows of those gathered at the table, with the exception of the gray clad woman as she reclined slightly in her seat and gave a low sigh before she spoke up, platinum-gray eyes regarding those before her with all the frigid apathy of a ruler regarding intruders in their domain.

“Alright, let’s begin.”

And so they did, bit by bit, word by word, the tension that had so fiercely seized them began to ease its tenebrous grip upon their hearts, the presence of the towering woman not forgotten or ignored, so much as quietly accepted, the visiting officials oft found their eyes wandering to the woman as she occasionally circled the table, pausing but to help the elder Feldgreen with pouring himself a cup of water before she resumed her pacing, an unspoken status quo settling over the room.

Until of course someone managed to break the statue quo.

All it took was one raised voice, an official losing his composure for but a moment as a result of the Chief refusing to concede to the terms laid out before her and voicing her own thoughts on not only what Sinners she would be sending on the assignment that the officials were asking of her, but also in regards to just how much oversight the officials would have on the actions of her subordinate Sinners, with an argument soon escalating near into yelling at one another. And then the Wolf made her displeasure known. *CRACK*

Concrete, reinforced with hypercubes and rebar, came off the wall in a rain of dust and fragmented chunks as the wolf like woman dug her metallic nails into them and began to drag them across the wall, great gouges etching themself into the wall as cracks spider-webbed from the gouges and formed elaborate and mocking tapestries that stood in testament to the savage strength of the woman who now turned her head to affix upon those gathered a baleful gaze as her lips pulled back to reveal far too sharp canines that gleamed in the light of the room. From deep within the taller woman’s chest there came a rumbling, a snarl that filled the room with such force that the glasses of water upon the table began to shake and vibrate, the very bones of the men gathered seeming fit to join as the woman took a step forward, baleful eyes alighting upon the man who had risen from his chair amidst his yelling and had remained frozen in his half standing position as terror came to hold fast his heart, words dying upon his lips in a keening whine as the woman took yet another step forward. “Heel, Zoya.” The woman in gray spoke up with an exasperated tone to her voice, like an owner reprimanding a favored pet that had done something mildly inconvenient as opposed to having torn a scar into the wall of the room with her fingers and nearly shattered the glasses present within the room with nothing but a snarl of rage, the gray haired woman rolling her eyes slightly at the bark of laughter that slipped past the towering Sinner’s lips as she lifted up her hand and beckoned her wolf towards her with her fingers curled. The taller Sinner offered those gathered at the table a smile that promised mangled flesh and shattered bones if they dared to raise their voices again as she stalked towards her Chief, the smaller woman sighing lightly as she lifted up her eyes to regard the yet frozen man who had fallen back into his seat the moment Zoya had turned her gaze away from him as she met his gaze with an arched eyebrow, a slight smirk crossing her face at the speed with which he broke eye contact with her. “If you children are done flaunting your egos,” came the voice of the elderly man who sat near to her, the ancient Mr. Feldgreen removing his glasses so that he could clean them with a cloth taken from his pocket before continuing, the few thin wisps of white hair he sported catching the light as the otherwise bald man fixed the rest of those gathered at the table with a gaze that seemed to belong more to a stern and disappointed teacher than one of Dis City’s longest serving executives as he continued. “Then can we get this meeting finished before I die? Or are you all hoping to watch me keel over while you have your pointless dick measuring contest?” The elderly man directed his gaze across the table as he watched the men and women who had gathered to converse with the gray clad Chief flush with embarrassment and look away for a moment before they composed themselves, the woman herself chuckling to mirror the more boisterous laughter of her taller companion. “What are you talking about, old timer?” The tall Sinner said as she placed her hand on the back of the elderly man’s chair, a smirk on her face as the heard him let out a low grumble under his lips as he finished wiping off his glasses before he offered her a mildly annoyed look at her jostling his chair, narrowed and hazy green eyes staring into bright blue as the taller woman continued.

“You’ll probably outlive all of these runts before your next birthday at the rate they're going.” The older man let out a slight chuckle as the taller woman laughed, before he reached forward to grab his glass and take a sip of his water before he lifted up his hand and made a shooing gesture towards the gray clad woman as he did so, speaking after he had finished his drink.

“Enough of your barking mutt, go to your master.” Those assembled could only gape at the man even as the wolf like women gave another cackling laugh to shake the room as she took his advice and walked past him to take her place beside the gray clad woman, who had risen from her chair, who let out a low chuckle of her own at the elderly man’s words, a small smile curving her lips upwards as she reached up and placed her hand atop her wolf’s head.

“Bad wolf, I told you not to damage the walls again this week, now Faye is going to milk this for all its worth.” The last bit of her words were spoken in a low and exasperated tone before she shook her head and looked up at her wolf once more, the fond annoyance of a pet owner having to deal with their pet’s mess in her eyes as she continued to pat the taller woman’s head from where she stood.

“Though I suppose I can overlook it this time, given the circumstances.” The Chief spoke to her sinner as she looked into her radiant eyes, for a moment there was silence as platinum-gray met bright blue, the pair seeming to hold a silent conversation that took at once an eternity and but an instant to pass betwixt them.

There was an intimacy to the moment that made those present feel as voyeurs intruding upon that which was not theirs to witness, yet eventually the moment broke as the smaller woman let out a low sigh before she beckoned towards her chair as the wolflike woman gave another laugh as she took the seat she had before the meeting began, the gray clad woman soon taking her own seat on her lap once more.

With her head resting against the chest of her taller compatriot, her eyes half-lidded as she looked out over those gathered at the table before her, a small smile curled her lips upwards as she looked at the uneasy expressions on the faces of those before her, bar the elderly man to her side, a quiet chuckle slipping past her lips as she spoke up once more.

“I will have to punish my wolf later on, for now we still have a meeting to finish up, and this time I hope there won’t be any misplaced aggression, correct?” The way that Zoya’s lips curled upwards in a smile that was both mocking and threatening was enough to make those present silently grit their teeth in frustration, though yet still they obeyed the unspoken command of the gray clad woman, their tongues held as they resumed their meeting.

What must have been hours passed before there came at last the mercy of an ending to the meeting, men and women granted the blissful reprieve of being able to stand and depart the room at a moderate, if not yet somewhat hurried pace, the last of those to flee the room was the elder official who had taken his time to reach the door, a small smirk on his face as he heard Zoya letting out grumpling complaints at him in hopes of him hurrying up, something which only encouraged him to take his time yet more.

Persephone’s lips were curved into a smile as she fought back chuckles of amusement as one of the very few officials she could tolerate did all he could to vex Zoya in the most petty of ways, something which was gradually wearing down at her wolf’s self control as she glared at the man with a snarl curling her own lips, a curse on her lips dying but when the man at last reached the door.

And of course he paused and took a moment to antagonize her once more, the elderly man taking a second to straighten out his back and to clean his glasses once more, the Chief having to take a second to swallow down her laughter before at the audible snarl that slipped past Zoya’s lips, the red glow of her Shackles being the only thing that seemed fit to hold her back from pouncing, before she bid the elderly man goodbye as he left the room with a wave thrown over his shoulder.

“That man,” Zoya began after taking a deep breath, “is somehow the most tolerable of all of them, and the most fucking annoying at the same time, and I have no idea how that is possible.” The White Wolf of Syndicate threw her head back and let out a sigh as Perspehone chuckled on her lap, the shorter woman adjusting herself to be seated sideways against Zoya, her legs dangling off the side of Zoya’s own leg as she laid her head against the woman’s chest.

“True, but at least he can always be counted on to be as direct as possible, no smoke and mirrors and only blunt honesty, it is refreshing compared to everyone else.” Persephone chuckled once more before she shifted her head to delicately place her lips against Zoya’s neck, lips ghosting over the wolf’s pulse point before she leaned in and placed a kiss against the thrumming point, Zoya chuckling as she shifted Persephone close to her.

Silence hung over the room once more as Persephone continued to suckle and nibble at the flesh beneath her mouth, teeth lightly scraping over firm flesh as her tongue traced senseless patterns upon the bare flesh when the moment came that her teeth ceased their nibbling and she began to suckle on the pulse point, Zoya letting out a low hum as she leaned back in the chair and began to card her fingers through Persephone’s hair as her eyes drifted shut.

The wolf’s teeth lightly bit down on her bottom lip as she felt Persephone begin to suckle upon her neck with greater fervor, teeth sinking into the firm flesh and biting down such that it felt blood would be drawn, her tongue caressing the flesh she had bitten into but a moment ago when she let up on her biting, tongue delving into each divet mark her teeth had made before she resumed her nipping, this time removing her lips from the area and sharply nipping the flesh in the center of the bruising area of flesh.

A groan brought about by the heady mixture of pain and pleasure slipped free from Zoya’s lips as she felt her flesh being bitten into sharply by the Chief, the smaller woman pulling back and tugging on the abused flesh for a moment before she let it go and began to lap at it with her tongue once more, the taller Sinner laying her head back against the chair as another blissful groan slips past her lips at the sensation.

How long the pair sat there, indulging in this moment of intimacy they could not say, yet eventually there came a moment where Persephone relinquished her grip on her Sinner’s neck, the smaller woman pulling back to look into her lover’s eyes, the two silently regarded one another for a moment with hazy and lidded eyes before the pair leaned into press their lips against one another, tongues soon dancing amidst the battlefield of their mouths as Zoya adjusted her grip on Persephone to where the woman’s legs were wrapped around her waist, lips not parting even as a moan slipped from the Chief’s lips at the change in position.

Persephone’s hands moved to grasp as the powerful muscles on the back of her wolf as she tightened her legs around the waist of her lover, the wolf placing one powerful hand on the center of her back to hold her in place, the sharp tips of her jewelry digging into Persephone’s skin and making her arc her back as a moan slipped past her lips, her back further arcing as another hand seized her hair and pulled her head back to expose her throat to the gleaming canines of the wolf that soon took the opportunity so readily granted to her.

Teeth sunk in and effortlessly parted flesh as the wolf seized the front of her lover’s throat, rivulets of crimson trapped within the seal of the lips that now held fast the center of Persephone’s throat, tongue lapping up the crimson fluid hungrily as the wolf sucked at the tender flesh, the Chief’s throat rumbling under the lips of the wolf as a moan slipped free from her throat at the pain and pleasure that assailed her as her wolf bit and sucked and licked at the flesh of her throat, a mixture of blood and saliva slipping past the forming bruise when the wolf pulled back to look at her Chief with pupils blown and a thundering heart.

“I think that’s enough foreplay don’t you ‘Sephone?” The wolf husked, steam slipping from her lips as her power surged around her, held back but by the crimson glow of the Shackles that lashed out and pierced into her, the sensation making her cry out as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, radiant blue eyes opened to see darkened platinum-gray staring back with a hunger as vast as the expanse of the heavens above.

“I agree my wolf,” Persephone adjusted herself,  to where her arms were wrapped around Zoya’s shoulder and her lips were but a hair’s breadth from Zoya’s ear as she purred with a voice of silken sin that bid her wolf to shudder in anticipatory delight, words softly caressing her ears as she spoke.

“Come on my wolf, let me reward you for being such a good girl today.”

Line Break

Reverently was the best way of describing the way in which the hands ever so delicately fastened the black leather collar onto her neck, fingers ever so gently tracing the smooth material until they came to rest upon a silver hoop of metal that lay over her throat, ever so delicately did the fingers tug on the loop of silver as she was pulled forward, lips ever so delicately meeting her own for but a brief moment before they pulled back, her eyes opening to see the platinum-blue eyes of her Chief begin to darken in desire as she lifted her hands and placed them on her shoulders.

 A breath left Zoya’s lips as she was delicately guided to sit on the edge of the bed, a hand ever so delicately coming to rest on her cheek as Persephone delicately caressed her cheek for a moment before shifting to allow for her thumb to rest against Zoya’s lips as she adjusted herself, moving to straddle Zoya’s lap with her thighs locked on either side of her as she watched the feared White Wolf of Syndicate, the woman that could smash aside even a speeding truck as though it were naught but a paper-plane, open her mouth in silent obeisance as Persephone’s thumb lightly pulled at the edge of her lips. 

A small smile crossed Persephone’s face as she saw the sharper than normal incisors that Zoya sported, the tips seeming to gleam in the light, a low chuckle slipping past her lips as she saw the off-pinkish tint that stained them, the ache in her shoulder forgotten as she delicately allowed her finger to brush against the fang nearest to her bottom right row, idly marveling at the sheer sharpness of the tooth as she pressed her finger down onto it, allowing for the tip to pierce into her flesh in a brief pinprick of pain that let a sharp gasp slip from her lips.

 Her already dilated pupils darkening further, Persephone watched as thin trails of crimson began to trail down the ivory fang, the sight making her lick her own lips as she looked into Zoya’s eyes, the Wolf still slightly taller than her but not enough she had to crane her neck to meet her gaze, a smirk coming to rest on her lips as she lifted her finger from the fang and delicately withdrew it from Zoya’s mouth.

A smile grew on her face as she heard a low grumble build in her Wolf’s chest as she tried to follow her finger for but a moment, only stopping when Persephone leaned in to lock their lips together, blue eyes widening for a moment before they closed in silent bliss alongside of platinum blue eyes, the pair briefly losing themselves in the dance of tongue and lip, the faint taste of iron mingling with the tastes of each other’s saliva seeming to only drive them forward yet more as a haze fell over them.

 Though eventually the haze would break as Persephone managed to collect herself, the stinging of her thumb the link to reality that she needed in order to collect her thoughts as she leaned back from their kiss, a smile on her face as she saw Zoya sitting before her, eyes yet closed as her chest lightly heaved, the woman’s hands, easily able to rip apart steel and stone, remaining bound behind her back by but the thin strands of satin cloth that Persephone had enveloped them in, a testament to the restrain that the mighty wolf was displaying, especially given the way her arms were flexing, revealing muscles that made Persephone swallow low in her throat before she lifted her gaze from them.

Platinum Blue met smoldering blue as Zoya looked at her with a heavy lidded gaze, her chest lightly rising and falling as she gazed at the woman before her with hunger alight in her eyes as a roaring inferno, yet still the wolf held back, promises made had to be kept and the woman that straddled her was one she trusted beyond all measure to honor her word, so the beast would be caged and bound, throttled until such a time as it could be unleashed in full.

From her reverie was the Wolf coaxed when something pressed against her lips, a digit that tasted of blood ever so delicately caressed her lips, almost as though to coat them in crimson, before it pushed inwards, the wolf eagerly opening her mouth and beginning to suckle upon the digit in question as Persephone rose just a little bit and leaned forward, allowing for her forehead to meet Zoya’s own as she looked into her eyes, a smile on her face as she ever do delicately cupped her cheek with her other free hand. 

“There’s my Wolf.” A low chuckle slipped past Persephone’s lips as she gazed into Zoya’s eyes a moment longer before she pulled her head back, removing her thumb a moment later as well, a chuckle slipping past her lips as she saw the blood having been licked clean from the small hole that adorned it, a chuckle that only grew when Zoya decided to bear her teeth once more, revealing the light pinkish tint that covered them from where she had spread the blood with her tongue. 

“Honestly Zoya, what am I going to do with you?” Persephone said with a chuckle as she leaned forward, allowing her head to be tucked under Zoya’s chin as she sighed in fond exasperation at the woman who seemed to be preening with pride at her display of her sanguine dyed teeth, said sigh only seeming to amuse the muscular woman beneath her as Zoya let out a barking laugh of her own as she rested her head atop Persephone’s own.

“I can think of a few things Chief,” Zoya said fondly to the smaller woman as she closed her eyes and basked in her presence for a moment before she continued to her lover, “Didn’t Macchiato give you something she wanted you to try out?”

Persephone paused her nuzzling at the words, the smaller woman leaning back to look Zoya in the eye as she reached up her hands, ever so delicately pulling her down to rest their foreheads together once more as she stared deep into her electric blue eyes, no words passing between them as she stared into those unflinching eyes, a small smile graced Persephone’s face as she leaned up to place her lips against Zoya’s own once more, savoring the contact before she pulled back. 

“I…I’m still…not that confident about using it, are you sure?” Persephone said as she continued staring into Zoya’s eyes, the taller woman offering her a confident smirk as she leaned down to lay a kiss across Persephone’s brow, the smaller woman’s lips curling up into a smile to match Zoya’s own as she leaned up to offer a gentle peck to the corner of her lips.

“’Sephone, I trust you with my life and more. The Shackles are just a formality between us and you know it, so yes I’m certain.” Zoya said with all due gravitas, her eyes boring into Persephone’s own as she gazed down at her with a heady mixture of love and admiration and respect filling her eyes as she smiled down at her lover, watching as Persephone’s own eyes widened before they drifted shut, her lips wobbling for a moment before they stilled as she leaned into bury her face in Zoya’s chest once more.

For a moment longer there was silence as Persephone buried her face into Zoya’s chest, trying to hide away the wetness that had gathered near her eyes as she felt Zoya shift to lay her head atop her own once more, the taller woman nuzzling into Persephone’s lock as she mumbled a question to her in a low and calm voice.

“Can I hug you?” The small nod she received against her chest was all the incentive she needed to allow for her hands to slip free from their silken bindings as she wrapped her arms around Persephone, ever so delicately tracing patterns on her side and back as she held her, the smaller woman finally calming herself down as she leaned back, Zoya’s hands still stroking her as she leaned up to kiss her once more.

“I love you,” Persephone breathed ever so softly to the taller woman, her own hands reaching out to ever so delicately caress Zoya’s cheek as the taller woman offered her that ever so familiar cocky smirk, lips curved upwards as she leaned down to rest her lips against Persephone’s forehead again as she spoke up.

 “I know, everyone does.” Twin bouts of laughter filled the room as Persephone threw back her head, an act which allowed for Zoya to lean in and seize her lips once more, this time allowing for their tongues to duel once more as she buried her fingers in the shorter woman's longer locks, silently encouraging her to do the same with a pleased groan as she felt nails begin to caress her scalp in such a way that they left an ever so heady mixture of pain and pleasure in their wake, the Wolf growling in delight as she pulled her lover ever so closer to her, their breasts rubbing against one another as they lost themselves in the sensation of their shared passion.

  How long they lingered like this neither could say, only that when they pulled back both of their cheeks were flushed, their pupils all consuming voids as they gazed at one another, and yet while the desire to forsake their play and pounce on one another was still there, Zoya managed to steel herself enough to lean down and lay one more kiss against Persephone’s lips before she shifted her hands to her hips and began to help her to rise off of her lap.

 “I love you Persephone,” the words flowed as easily as water in a stream, sincere adoration coating them as she saw the smaller woman shudder in visible delight at them, an act which made Zoya’s lips curve upwards once more as she leaned into lay one last kiss on the side of her lover’s neck, resisting the urge to sink her fangs in and lay mark after mark on the silken skin beneath her as she pulled back and met her lover’s gaze.

“Now go and get that toy box and show me what you can do Chief,” The husky growl of her words were matched by her lifting Persephone off of her lap as she took the time to stretch her arms, pausing in such an action but to take the chance to reach out and deliver a firm smack to her lover’s rear, the action prompting Persephone to let out a yelp of pain and pleasure as she turned to look at her eyes near black as she fixed her with a smirk before as she spoke up again-

“Oh, you are in for it now Wolfy,” her words, delivered in a husky growl as they were made, Zoya's smile widening as she opened her arms in a gesture of embracing the challenge to come, as she spoke up, “Looking forward to it ‘Sephone.”

The pair shared a chuckle before they parted once more, Zoya resuming stretching her arms and legs as she watched Persephone walk away, a sway to her hips that left the White Wolf licking her lips in eager anticipation of what was to come, though as she was stretching she felt her hand brush against the satin rope that had bound her hands but a few moments prior, a smirk crossing Zoya’s face as she let out a whistle that made Persephone turn to look at her from where she was busy rifling around in her closet.

“I didn’t break them this time!” Zoya called out with no small amount of pride in her voice, her words and the way she waved the ribbon as though it were a standard making Persephone chuckle in delight as well, the Chief outstretching her hand to catch the ribbon as it was tossed to her, a smile on her face as she turned back to rifling through her closet even as she spoke up.

 “Good girl! Now why don’t you go ahead and get ready before I find this damn box, because when I do I have something that Sumire taught me that I want to try on you.” Persephone called back to her lover as she heard Zoya let out a groan of anticipation at what was to come, already picturing just what it was that the Flower of the Garden could have taught their lover, maybe that thing with the red ropes…Shibari was it?

The idea of the crimson ropes draped over her, binding her in such a way that her lover could admire her muscles and scars, to know that the woman beneath her, with the power to smash aside any and all threats to her, was willing to lay herself bare before her in such a manner and allow for her to do as she wished with her, of the display of naked trust and adoration that such a thing would entail…

‘Fuck,’ Zoya thought to herself as she hurried to remove her clothes, pausing but to fold them and set them on the night stand near the bed, already knowing that Persephone would want her to do so, the sight of a wet spot on her underwear, and the sensation of slick beginning to trail down her thighs, making her bite her lips as another groan of need and delight slipped past her lips before she heard Persephone let out a sound of delight as she finally found the box Macchiato had given her to hold the various ‘toys’ her lovers had given her.

Smiling in delight at both the box she had found, and was trying to remove from her closet, and at what she saw when she looked behind her, the sight of Zoya naked save for the collar on her neck and the piercings that adorned her body that glinted in the light on them, the loop piercings she had swapped her normal studs out for on her nipples making a shudder of delight race down Persephone's spine, a shudder that only grew as she saw a similar piercing on the hood of her clit, her tongue slipped out to wet her lips as she looked at her lover, the Wolf smirking at her as she stood up, her hands on her hips as she showed herself off to her lover for a moment before she walked towards her.

Persephone watched with darkened eyes as her lover came to stand behind her, a smile on her face as she leaned over her, purposefully pressing her bare body against the Chief’s yet covered one as she effortlessly plucked the large box from the closet with a single hand, throwing it over her shoulder as she turned and began to walk away with a sway to her own hips.

Zoya’s smirk only grew as she felt Persephone’s eyes travel up from her rear and onto the tattoo she had resting above her tailbone, the depiction of a white wolf, body adorned with scars and eyes burning blue as saliva dripped from a slavering maw of fangs, though the beast was bound, the wolves head with a collar of red thorn like shackles that held it fast, the red thorns vanishing beneath a pair of ever so familiar platinum-blue that loomed over the beast from the shadows, gazing upon the viewer with a calm that was the polar opposite of the beast held firm by it.

Zoya smirked to herself as she felt Persephone’s gaze travel over her tattoo as it had many times before, the flare of possessiveness that burned within the Chief’s eyes was always a delightful sensation to revel in, especially when her gaze traveled across the rest of her body, hunger growing within the gaze as the smaller woman moved to stand behind her, pressing herself firm against her lover as the taller woman set the box down on the bottom of the bed, the wolf allowing for herself to be pushed down to where she was bent over the bed once more as Persephone looked down at her with lidded eyes.

  A thrill traveled through Zoya’s body as she felt the smaller woman lean over her, allowing for her lips to press themselves between her shoulder blades as the woman spoke up once more, her voice a low growl of desire that made the taller woman’s eyes close in delight as she once more shuddered in delight as she felt slim and dexterous fingers begin to caress her powerful muscles.

  “My Wolf…My good girl.” Persephone breathed out in delighted awe before she pressed herself against her lover, shifting to be on the tip of her toes as she let her lips ever so delicately ghost over Zoya’s ear as she purred into her ears.

  “I am going to make you howl tonight.” The words made Zoya let out a growl of anticipatory delight as she felt Chief push herself off of her lover as she moved towards the box, taking her time to allow for her hand to ever so delicately trace itself over Zoya’s firm rear, delighting in the sensation of the firm and tight flesh beneath her fingers for a moment before she lifted her hand and- 

*CRACK*

  A gasp of delight slipped past Zoya’s lips at the stinging pain and pleasure that raced its through her body as the she fought against her bodies desire to tense its muscles, instead allowing for them to fall slack as she watched the woman she trusted with her body, her mind, and even her very soul pop open the box, a smile growing on her face as she began to lay out the toys she wanted to use this night for the Wolf to see, taking her time dragging them out and showing them off for her lover before she sat them down before her.

  A length of crimson rope that made Zoya’s thighs clench as the Chief delicately trailed her fingers across it before she ever do delicately brushed the cool and silken binding against Zoya’s cheek, delighting in seeing the great wolf lay a delicate kiss to it as she did so, an unspoken ritual being observed by the pair as Persephone sat the length of rope down after laying a kiss of her own upon it (1).

Faintly, the pair both recalled the first time they had attempted to make use of the rope…something which had been a rather amusing experience given that neither of them knew what they were truly doing, and Persephone had been of little help in regards to figuring out how to tie and untie the rope, with the pair eventually swallowing their respective prides and having to concede that instruction was needed after they managed to cut themselves loose from the ropes. 

The learning curve had been steep, and more than slightly vexing at times, though once they had figured out how the crimson ropes were utilized they had soon discovered the  intoxicating pleasure of their usage, the way the elaborate designs could emphasize muscles and curves and could be done in such ways as to make for the breathtaking vistas of pliant and aroused flesh all that much more tempting to explore and chart, no matter how many times they had already been done so.

There was just something about how the ropes made the one draped in them look so helpless and alluring that drove them into true frenzies of passion once the time for slow and methodical playing and winding up had come to pass, that bid these ropes see so much usage it was impressive that they had not yet lost their vibrant crimson color.

Next there came forth a muzzle, styled to resemble the snarling visage of a wolf, the sight of it making Zoya lick her lips as a memory flickered through her mind, herself bound to the wall by metal shackles, more to hold her up than keep her rooted in place as Persephone sat behind her, delighting in watching the vibrators she had strapped to her lover drive her ever so close to the edge, only for her to deny her release until she was a howling mass of furious need that had whimpered and snarled for release as muscles strained against her will before the Chief had moved to be behind her, ecstasy visible in her eyes as she let her hands begin to roam  over her as she leaned in to-

  *CRACK*

Again a groan of delight slipped past her lips as she felt Persephone’s hand knead and massage the area she had just struck for several moments before she pulled it back, her other hand pressing the muzzle against her lips such that it appeared as though she was kissing it as darkened eyes watched her, the taller woman taking a breath as she leaned forward to let her lips meet the cool metal in a kiss, anticipation burning in her eyes as Persephone sat it down beside the rope after laying a tender kiss to the same place Zoya had, delighting in allowing her wolf to see her tongue dart past her lips and caress the metallic teeth that formed the cage of the muzzle. 

A not so small part of Persephone wanted to see about having something similar to Rahu’s own mask made in resemblance of this snarling metallic maw and set her loose on the field with her claws and see the kind of terror her wolf could unleash in such a form, though another part of her holds her back as she cannot help but feel possessive over it, this is their muzzle and no one else’s, and as such it will remain here in these moments of passion for their eyes and hands alone.

Now there came forth an object of uncertainty for her Persephone, a length of coiled leather, the tip slightly widened and then flattened so as to allow for it cover a wider area upon striking flesh, the grip of dark red leather was held in an ever so tenuous grip as Persephone looked down at the whip, uncertainty present in her eyes as she held it before Zoya, allowing for the tip of it to ghost against her lips as she watched with an anxious energy to her, something Zoya knew how to vanish.

With languid ease the Wolf leaned forward, allowing for her tongue to dart out of her mouth and lick the tip of the whip, the taste of the smooth leather drowned out by the heady mixture of anticipation and hunger that swelled through her as she took the tip into her mouth and began to suckle it.

Heavy lidded eyes watched with delight as Persephone gazed at her with hunger and excitement of her own, her anxiety vanishing under the loving and assuring gaze Zoya offered her as she pulled the away from the whip, allowing for the Chief to shakily raise the leather to her own lips, with her delicately laying a kiss to the area Zoya had lathered with her tongue but a moment ago before she sat it down before her.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Persephone reached down to begin to stroke Zoya’s hair for a moment, nails caressing her scalp in that way that caused an ever so delightful mixture of pain and pleasure to travel down her spine before she lifted her hand and returned to the box, a small smile growing on her face at Zoya’s growl at the loss of the sensation.

Again and again did they repeat their ritual, for next there came from the chest a wand vibrator that received shared kisses, the toy had endured much at the hands, or rather thighs, of Zoya when Persephone had decided to see how much her wolf could handle of the toy at its highest function.

The sight of the mighty sinner, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as her breasts gleamed in the light amidst a sheen of sweat as she arched her back as far as she could, her lips parted in a silent howl of bliss as her legs tensed and untensed in wild spasms before they clenched tightly around the toy and Persephone’s hands, holding her in place even as the wolf tried to escape the agony and ecstasy that was the overstimulation wrought by the toy laid against her clit, was one that made Persephone lick her lips in delight. 

 Next came a leash of dark blue leather, how it had not snapped under the force of Zoya’s thrashing in rapture or Persephone’s own grip on it when she pulled it as hard as she could to encourage her bound lover to use the strap on she had placed on her to take her with enough force and speed that she was certain the bed would break amidst their bout of passion, and yet the length had endured.

Even when she had pulled on it with all her force as her means of balancing herself as she wrapped her legs around her wolf’s waist and had her take her standing, the leash and collar choking pulled taught as the Chief laid horizontal to her vertical sinner, held such by her legs grip on her sinners wais and the choking grip of leather upon the wolf’s neck, the sight of her lover’s bouncing breasts, the bulge present in her stomach, and the choking of the collar and leash driving the sinner into a moving her hips with such maddened speed and force that Persephone saw novas erupting such that her mind had nearly faded.

Of course she soon discovered just how maddened her wolf had become when she had slumped onto her shoulders on the ground, her grip on the leash not waning even as the position shifted and Zoya began to pound into her in this new position, even when they both became horizontal on the ground, her legs wrapped around Zoya’s waist once more, did she still keep a grip on the leash such that she thought for certain it would snap, and yet it held fast then and many times after.

 Next came a set of weights to attach to her wolf’s hoop piercings that was met with kisses as well, that is after they found the one Persephone dropped in the blankets as she was bringing them out, a chuckle passed between the two as they recalled the first time they had used the weights and had dropped them due to not properly securing them, with them spending several minutes just trying to find them again before they tried to use them again. 

Though once they did find them and began to use them they were soon to discover the intensity of their usage, as the constant ache they provided was enough to make Zoya’s breasts more sensitive than they had been before, and that was with but one on each, the addition of others leading to Zoya’s mind being awash in the pain of her stretched nipples and the numbness spreading around them, and the pleasure that came with said pain and pleasure reaching mind numbing heights when they were removed and Persephone latched onto her breasts with hand and tongue such that her climax came without the Chief touching her below her waist.

They had contemplated the idea of using larger and heavier weights, perhaps even finding a method of placing them onto Zoya’s clit, though they had decided that such a thing could wait for a later date when they had gotten more used to the current weights and their usage before they attempted such a thing.

 Next there came a blindfold that was given another shared kiss, though the pair were somewhat hesitant to give the same to the pair of noise canceling ear-phones that was wrapped within the blindfold, an unspoken communication passing between them before Persephone spoke up-

  “Are you certain, the muzzle will function as a gag and with the blindfold on things will feel a lot more intense?” The worry of the wolf being unable to tell her when things had gone too far clear in her words without even being spoken as she gazed into Zoya’s eyes, the wolf letting out a groan of anticipatory delight as she gazed at the object before she leaned forward to kiss it, leaning back to meet the Chief’s gaze.

“Persephone, I could tear that muzzle apart with just my teeth if I wanted to, the same for the restraints if things get too intense. Besides, you have the Shackles to tell you if things are going too far, I trust you.” Zoya spoke up with a confident smile on her face as she looked at her lover, her words making Persephone offer a small smile of her own before she looked down at the headphones for a moment before offering a kiss of her own as she sat them down before her lover, taking a momentary breath from removing the toys as she leaned in to lay a kiss on Zoya’s forehead before she resumed rooting through the box.

Now there came forth an item that Zoya was all too eager to lay a kiss upon, her lips parting as she allowed her tongue to swirl around one of the tips of the artificial phallus that Persephone had brought out, her eyes dark as she began to suckle upon the silicone, her lips firmly attaching themselves to it as she ran her tongue over the silicone material as she tried to take the object further into her throat, only to let out a low whimper as Persephone pulled the object back.

For a moment, the Chief looked over the dark blue silicone, divided into two different phalluses that were spread such that they could enter both the vagina and anus at the same time, was already attached to its harness, a small controller being brought out alongside of it to allow for the variety of functions that would further the delight the bump and ridge covered strap could offer to both her wolf and herself through not only a small nub that would envelop the wielder’s clitoris upon her wearing it, but also another faux phallus that could be inserted into the wearer to share in the delightful sensations the controller could activate.

Persephone rolled her eyes at her lover’s anticipation of having the toy she adored using on the smaller woman being used on herself instead, the Chief sighing as she leaned in to lay a kiss against the other phallus top that Zoya had not kissed before she sat it down before her, a chuckle slipping past her lips as she turned back to the box, chuckling as she pulled out a pair of clamps, an idea forming in her mind as she disconnected the clamps into two separate clamps that she laid a kiss upon before holding them before her wolf.

Her eyes narrowed in slight confusion before realization came to her, Zoya leaned forward and laid a kiss upon both of the metal clamps, watching with a slight shudder of delight as the smaller woman laid the pair of metallic clamps before her, Persephone pausing in her looking over the contents of her box as she let out a low hum of intrigue before she pulled out a set of metal clamps with a rubber interior that were too large to be used to constrain the hands, but were perfectly sized to be fit around the breasts of the wolf, with an additional feature allowing for the objects to squeeze the breasts such that they were enlarged by blood swelling into them.

The pair looked at the object before they both shook their head, Persephone tucking the object back into the box before she pulled out another one that made the pair take a moment to consider the usage of it, the length of faux black leather that sported a grip of dark blue leather that tapered out into a widened top, the pair sharing a glance as the two shared a momentary look of anticipation, Persephone lifting the flogger to her lips and laying a kiss upon it before she held it out to Zoya, allowing for the wolf to do the same before she sat it down.

Briefly through the minds of the pair a memory flickered, pain and pleasure, blinding in their intensity and the aching blissful agony they brought were something that had come to be well known to the pair, be it sharp strikes to Zoya’s rear as Persephone marveled at the sight of the reddening flesh as Zoya gasped and panted and groaned in pleasure and pain alike with each strike.

This heady and intoxicating mixture of pain and pleasure is often further exploited by Persephone for her own amusement such as when she bound the hands of her wolf to the ceiling above her head so that her chest was bare, her knees spread such that her slick sex was visible, and her eyes concealed by dark cloth as she was made to ride an artificial phallus.

Persephone had watched her wolf put on a show for her with lust darkened eyes as she circled her lover, often caressing her lightly with the tip of the flogger before whirling about and delivering a strike that would tear the flesh of a normal person onto Zoya, the Sinner’s strength enough that even her mightiest blow could barely dent her skin, though that did not stop the howls of pain and pleasure fueled ecstasy from slipping past Zoya’s lips as strikes landed upon her breasts and nipples, her ass and even her cunt and clit.

When at last the Wolf had reached a climax that left her spasming and convulsing with enough force the chains that held her to the ceiling shattered as she writhed upon the ground, Persephone could not stop herself from trailing the flogger down her own sex as she ground herself against it for a moment before she placed it against Zoya’s own sex, with her smiling at their mixed juices before she placed it against her wolf’s lips, the Chief straddling her Sinner’s waist from behind as she dressed her down onto the toy once more as she leaned in and ordered her wolf to lick the flogger clean, with her only letting her off of the toy once she had done so.

Once the memory passed once more time did Persephone pull an object out of the box, this one making her look at it in uncertainty, a small bottle containing several needles, similar to what would be used for acupuncture that rested in a clear fluid, the pair taking a look at the small purple flower ornament that adorned the top of the vial, both of them sharing a silent look before they shared a shake of the head, neither having enough experience with such a thing to use it reliably and thus Persephone sat it back into the container.

For a moment longer there was silence, Zoya looking at the toys in anticipation as Persephone closed the box and sat it down on the ground beside the bed, the sound making a shudder of anticipation race down Zoya’s spine as she felt the smaller woman drape herself over her back once more, breasts pressing against her back as she leaned in and once more purred into her ears.

“Remember, the Safe Word is ‘Gleipnir’(2), got it Wolf?” The moment Zoya heard those words she let herself relax once more, a sense of anticipation and delight building in her as she breathed a near silent acknowledgment to the woman behind her, something which seemed to displease Persephone as she let her hand seize the silver locks and pull her head back, lips pressing against her ear as she growled into her ear.

“Words Wolf, I need your words.” Persephone demanded of the woman she had beneath her, the smaller woman savoring in the delicious feeling of power that raced through her at the sensation of the taller woman nodding her head once more before she spoke up, her words loud and clear to the smaller woman, each syllable brining a smile to Persephone’s face.

“Yes Ma’am,” Zoya spoke up, the words making her own heart begin to hammer within her chest as Persephone let out a chuckle before she pushed herself off of her, as she let her hands rest on either side of Zoya’s rear, her hands kneading the firm flesh of her rear before she brought both of them up and then down on the cheeks with twin loud cracks.

“Now then, let’s begin shall we Wolf?” Persephone purred to her lover as she began to reach for her toys, the anticipation of a long night fueling both of them as they allowed for their passions to envelop them, a night of howling and ecstasy awaiting them.

Fin

And there we have it ladies, gentlemen, and all that which lays betwixt and beyond the two, we hope you enjoyed this little read and that you have a wonderful day, we will elaborate on the numbered sections below this bit but before we do so we feel that we should once again give a huge thanks to JimBoReee for being an amazing friend and a person to share ideas with.

(1) This is the BDSM Ritual we mentioned at the beginning of this story, the pair will both kiss the item if they wish to use it during this session of play, where as one kissing it and not the other necessitates discussion as to their thoughts on why it should or should not be used in the session, and neither kissing it means that it is a solid pass for mutually understood or similar reasons.

We are uncertain as to if this is a ritual that is observed in BDSM or if it fits with the practice, but it is what came to use during the fit of inspiration that inspired the original draft of this fic, please let us know what you think of it.

(2) Suggestion by JimBoRee due to the tattoo’s similarity to Fenrir.

And with all of that said, we hope you all stay safe and take care, see you next time.

[nomorefstogive]

Thank you 2bros, also I need to catch up Dark Gathering myself but I will say that Yayoi is terrifying and I love her and her antics so much lol...also Keitaro needs a vacation.

Last Song: Live in Life by Will Stetson

Fave Color: Blue or Green

Last book I finished: The Hatching, not for arachnophobes it involves prehistoric spiders waking up and deciding that Long Pig is on the menu.

Last Tv Show: I don't really watch TV, so I will say Arcane on Netflix on my pc.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet, Spice and Savory are tied for second in this case.

Relationship Status: Single

Last Thing I Googled: Post apocalyptic game american remnants frog men (Game I was looking for is Miasma Chronicles, I only remebered the Frog Men eating people lol)

Current Obsession: Multiple things actually, Nikke and Path to Nowhere anniversary events, Age of Wonders 4 and Forever Winter as well.

Looking Forward To: Getting my next chapter of my PtN fic done, finishing an idea for the Female Primarch GF subreddit, and watching Ryuma Brunestud's Azur Lane fanfictions. Tagging in: @definesanity @sinsmockingbird and @multiversetravelingjournalist

10 people i’d like to get to know better

tagged by @bubonicbabybell <3

Last song: meat is murder by the smiths

favorite color: orange 🍊

last book i finished: bliss montage

last tv show i watched: supernatural (s12)

sweet/spicy/savory: savory? i honestly dont have a preference

relationship status: single

last thing i googled: stardew valley wiki 💀

current obsession: dead poets society + the sims 4

looking forward to: halloween! and nanowrimo

tagging > @laceyc0bwebs @thelifeofagirl @chiiiiiiiiiiiiiii (i have no other mutuals and am lowkey scared to tag people i follow so sorry this is supposed to be 10)

[nomorefstogive]

In your headcanons of Shalom from PTN, Why did Chameleon try hypnotizing Shalom that one time? Was it for therapy or...?

There were two primary reasons, the first is that Chameleon did not trust Shalom and wanted to know if she was planning anything involving her favorite patient, with the added bonus of potentially learning some info on Paradeisos if it worked.

Secondly she was trying to assert some measure of control and power over someone whose mere presence unsettled her greatly, with Chameleon wanting to both ease her own nerves about her ability to handle the Hush if needed and to try and put Shalom on the back foot and potentially coax some form of human reaction from the seemingly inhuman woman.

When it comes to therapy, Chameleon has decided to try a more normal approach to it, even though Shalom has stated that she will give her permission to be pout under hypnosis for such a thing, Chameleon is not in any hurry to get decked again, though if the Chief were to agree to sit in on such a thing and potentially bail her out if needed, she might try her ususal hypnotherapy with Shalom.

Whether or not it will end positively or negatively, well that I will leave to your imagination for now.

[nomorefstogive]

Sorry for the delay @2broschlininahotub this slipped my mind for a while due to some fun I had dealing with some plumbers, and dear God am I so glad that is dealt with.

That said, @2broschlininahotub lemon, mint, fern, lilac.

@sinsmockingbird

@multiversetravelingjournalist

@definesanity

@prisoner-of-sin

MOOTS ASSEMBLE.

[nomorefstogive]

Your Result:So Much FanfictionYou have so, so much fanfiction, either because you're so shippable, or because you're hot. Maybe both. Probably both. You definitely flirt with everyone, either way. Tumblr and Twitter love you and showers you with queer headcanons. Reddit keeps a safe distance.

I could not figure out how to edit the size of the picture for the life of me, sorry. Also, I will safely say that I am by no means a flirt of any kind lol.

With that said, I would like to tag: @sinsmockingbird @prisoner-of-sin @multiversetravelingjournalist and @definesanity

Saw this going around twitter, looked like fun. What? I'm not procrastinating (I am, I really am)

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz

Post the results side-by-side. No pressure tags: @alypink, @revnah1406, @madefordvarka, @deadbranch, @welldonekhushi, @kaitaiga, @applbottmjeens, @froglights-and-pearls

[nomorefstogive]

Our Dearest Sin Chapter 4: To Fix A Problem (Crossposted on Ao3)

Hello all, this is a copy paste of the newest chapter of my PtN fic on Ao3, as well as my way of letting all of you know that I am in fact, still alive.

Summary:

She was born to do this, to fix the mistakes of others so that those she serves could prosper, and now she once more donned that most dreaded of masks to fulfill her horrific duty, all to insure that the woman she loved would be safe. After all, she was born and made to fix problems.

Notes:

Hello again everyone, I am sorry for the rather lengthy delay that has occurred with me posting this chapter, and for my lengthy silence on tumblr, I was working on a variety of other projects, not just my other fics…namely the 40k plus word chapter for my Azur Lane fic, but also a subreddit that has cropped up that I am quite fond of, r/PrimarchGF. Before we begin, let us offer our thanks to JimBoReee for braving this mess of a fic and acting as our Beta for this chapter, they are a wonderfully talented and creative person so please go and check out their works, you will not be disappointed. A link to their profile: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimBoReee/pseuds/JimBoReee That said, today we are going to take a slight detour from the wholesomeness and humorous atmosphere of our previous posts and instead take a few steps down a much darker path. I invite you one and all to take a moment to steel yourselves as this will be quite the departure from has been established as the norm of this story, I will attach some trigger warnings below for what this chapter will contain. TW: Murder. Torture. Attempted Murder. Attempted Suicide. Suicide Coercion. Blackmail. Abuse. Mental Torture. Psychological Torture. Hurt No Comfort. Yandere Themes. Shalom Being Angry. Non Consensual Touching, mentioned in one portion. Racism Against Sinners. Implied Homophobia. Manipulation. Mental Trauma. Physical Trauma. Etc. For those of you who are still here, then we welcome you one and all to this newest act in the play of this fic, with that said- Let the show begin!

To Fix A Problem

There is an old saying that goes, “When it rains, it pours”, and as the young man sat at the candlelit table, blood trailing from weeping gashes and narrow cuts as tears that gleamed ever so faintly amidst the light of the flickering flames of the twin candles that sat upon the table before him, eyes so empty as to be mirrors of the Void itself regarding him with cold disdain, he knew it well to be the case of the saying being more than true. 

Dimly the man thought of how this had come to be, how it was that was sat at this table of exquisitely carved mahogany wood, his blood and tears seeping into the plush velvet lining of the chair he sat within as he watched the figure across from him take in his suffering and horror, his cries and screams and blubbered pleas falling upon the sepulchral silence of the room and unflinching face of the one across from him as water upon a duck’s wings, failing to do not but display how futile such actions were in the face of the Absolute before him. 

Eyes heavy lidded with caked blood and stinging with tears shed and un-shed, rested upon the case before him, polished onyx metal of origin unknown casting not the faintest reflection of light and instead seeming to hungrily devour it with grandiose delight as it waited with baited breath for what it knew would come to pass. 

As his trembling fingers began to move to open the container, many times failing to pop the latches that held fast the case like the teeth of some abhorrent maw despite the almost anticipatory ease with which they popped open when he did manage to lay his fingers upon them, the man recalled with another heaving sob how all of this had begun.

It felt like days ago that waking had come to the man not with gentle caress of promises and wonders unseen, but with the bitter stinging whip of pain, a fog of agony such that it tinted the vision white and black as one neared the precipice of oblivion’s sweet embrace once more that would have served to engulf him whole once more were it not for the sudden jostling of the world around him, his bound hands unable to offer any aid as he was flung upwards, an already battered head connecting with solid metal, causing yet more constellations of agony to form.

Tears had slipped unbidden from his eyes, wetting the dried blood that had crusted them near to shut and allowing for the man’s narrow field of haze ridden view to expand somewhat as he his mind sluggishly tried to process just what it was that was happening, though such thoughts and questions were soon vanished as yet once more the world went white with agony as his body was jolted once more, something which prompted broken bones and cuts that had gone mercifully numb to once more sing out in a choir of hellish agony.

The exquisite agony of what felt to be a hundred-hundred razor thin cuts and several snapped and shattered bones should have made the man scream out, wailing like a child holding fast their parents hands amidst a blazing inferno, and yet instead there came but a low and wet groan, vocal chords unresponsive as the man came to be aware of an unnatural feeling of sluggishness that had seized him fast, the feeling having been hidden away behind the sensation of waking and the pain that had soon accompanied it.

His heart had begun to hammer in more than just pain, a sensation of dread enveloping him as a rapidly spreading slick of oil would upon the sea, lungs tried and failed to take fast breaths as each sudden motion caused supernovas of agony to envelop him, forcing him to slow his breath and to try and still his heart, a whimper slipping past the young man’s lips as he tried to take stock of the situation, though his thoughts were in too much a state of disarray to be anything approaching coherent or cohesive. 

Clarity came but ever so briefly, waves of frigid terror enveloping him in an all consuming grasp of such force that the breath he managed to take in left his lungs entirely during theme moments, gasps of horror and despair slipping from torn lips that parted into silent sobs that soon bled way to gasps of pain and then back into whimpers of agony as the clarity vanished once more under the tide of misery. 

Why was he here?

What was going on?

Why was he so badly hurt?

Why were his hands bound?

What was he in?

Where was he?

Again and again these question had come to him during those brief moments, though they were ever left unanswered as the man languished in his misery, his silent sobs growing as the jostling became more and more frequent, his body being cast against what felt to be walls of cold metal, his vision soon went black once more, oblivion swallowing him as a particularly hard jostle sent his head colliding with the wall behind him with such force that consciousness fled him.

As yet another latch upon the case came undone, the man thought to himself that it was far too kind that the striking of his scalp upon the unfeeling metal had not delivered him unto the merciful embrace of the most kind Oblivion, and had instead merely been the briefest of interludes for the pain to come, for soon enough he had been awoken again, the jostling having yielded way to the sound of metal doors being cast open.

He had not had time to even open his mouth before hands reached into the space he was housed within and seized him, his body crying out in agony as the towering figure tore him free of the container, manacles snapping under the strain with which they had torn him from them as he was cast into the mud, the Blue-Rain caressing him with frigid needles as he tried and failed to move away from the being that loomed over him, his movements stopping when he felt a hand seize him by the ankle as the figure began to drag him through the mud, his sobs of pain being drowned out amidst the downpouring rain.

His vision swam, dried blood and fresh mud now blinding him such that he could not discern where it was that he had been taken, only that around him loomed monolithic buildings and streets adorned with cracks and gaping wounds of craters and shattered windows and walls, the stench of filth and mud field his nostrils and the taste of dirt and blood flooded his mouth as he tried and failed to cry out for help before his captor began to haul him down the street, dragging him with a lone hand as though he weighed not but a twig’s burden to them.

Faintly he thought he not only heard his captor speaking, their voice oddly muffled as they spoke into what must have been a phone for a moment before they were silent once more, but that he also saw figures moving amidst the shadows of the buildings that loomed around him, empty windows and doorways seeming to form mocking sneers and cruel smirks that regarded his torment with perverse glee, yet when he blinked the figures were gone and only the iron grip around his ankle that drug him over cracked and shattered streets remained.

At times he thought he smelt something over the rain and filth of the streets he was being hauled down, something almost floral that seemed to mock his senses with its ever faint presence, though such a thing was swiftly banished from his mind as his captor paused in their march to lift a heavy hand and bring it down upon a door of cold metal that lay nestled in the shadow of a building.

After administering but a single knock to the door, the towering figure cast open the heavy construct of cold steel with deft ease, the same ease with which they suddenly flung him into the building, his ribs crying out in agony as a series of sickening cracks and pops sang out from within him as an agonized choir, the loudest and most vocal of said agonies there came when his flight at last ended, his body slamming into a metal pillar, the blow making his world turn white as his mouth parted in a silent scream once more.

As the white left his vision, and darkness began to creep in once more, his blurred vision faintly registered the form of his captor, weeping eyes alighting upon a towering figure clad in what seemed to be some form of uniform odd metal contraptions resting on their arms, and a sneering mask covering the lower part of their face, their visage made all the more horrifying by the baleful crimson scar that burned across their face, the glow of which reflected like hell-fire amidst their baleful eyes as they advanced once more. 

Oblivion claimed him with the blow of a boot to his head, and the faintest sound of mocking chuckles echoing from the shadows that now loomed to devour him. 

*Tap*

His reverie was broken by the sound of a single manicured nail tapping the wooden table, a look of disapproval flickering into those abyssal eyes as the figure across from him regarded him with glacial apathy, yet beneath that apathy and within that void that swirled were a soul should be within their eyes, he saw the faintest flicker of something that bid his trembling hands move with due speed, trembling fingers fumbling the latches once more before he at last managed to pop yet another open.

A flicker of a smile graced the face of the one across from him, sharp and cold, the edge of a scalpel ready to peel through his flesh and let him bleed across the floor before her…no it’s arctic gaze as the figure watched with cruel anticipation as yet another latch came open before the man paused once more, yet more plaintive cries and whimpers beginning to form on his lips as he saw the light of the candle ever so faintly reflect off of a dark amethyst gem that lay embraced in a band of silver.

The sight of it making his heart begin to hammer once more, tears beginning to trail from his eyes as he fought the urge to fall to his knees and beg and plea to the figure before him once more, he had long come to realize that even the most desperate and humiliating of please and cries for mercy would fall upon ears that seemed to be cast from the same glacial stone that the figure’s heart had been for all of the good that they seemed to do.

Indeed, all said please had ever managed to warrant from the figure was a disapproving look before they beckoned towards the towering woman that stood behind him, hands strong enough to pulverize bone lifting him up and then slamming him into either the pillar she had been leaning against or the floor before she tossed him back into his chair, a snarl of seemingly apocalyptic fury scorching its way from her throat as she seemed to be held back from taking his life by some unseen hand or order as she left him there before returning to her post.

Again there came a loud snap to fill the otherwise silent room, the shadows seeming to come alive as they writhed and danced in an obscene serpentine manner, tongues of darkness caressing his body and vision as her looked at the final latch on the case, faintly he thought there came, from depths unseen, a chorus of voices, mocking and derisive, so potent their disdain and contempt for him that his blood ran as ice, though with but a blink the looming darkness and mocking words vanished as his hand hovered over the final latch. 

Swallowing down a wave of vertigo and nausea, the man looked up at the figure across from him, bloodshot eyes of dark oaken brown caked in bruises and mud meeting glacial light purple eyes, as the man forced himself to speak up once more, his gaze flickering from the figure’s eyes to the ring that it had sat before it. 

“Y-you promise…” He coughed up a wad of blood and flem that landed on his pants, a moment being taken to catch his breath before he lifted his head once more to continue his final plea to the figure before him. 

“You promise me you’ll leave them alone? They…they had nothing to do with this…this was all me and those dumbasses, leave my family out of it.” His voice, hoarse and yet oh so faint, weak to the brink of shattering and yet resonating with the last few strands of great strength the man could summon forth filled the room, the stillness that followed his words seeming fit to crush him under its weight even as it deafened him with its intensity. 

For a moment there was only the sound of the the creaking of the attire of the figure behind him as he watched the thing in human skin across from him tilt its head in silent thought for several moments, light purple eyes looking down at the ring in contemplation before the figure at last spoke up, that haunting voice, the dulcet tone of the Devil as he purred in your ear, broke the silence as well. 

“As I told you before, I will not lay a hand on them, nor will any of my subordinates. So long as you keep your end of the deal, then nothing will happen to them, but should you fail… then I cannot vouch for their safety.” The thing finished its statement with that faux smile, something that would not have looked out of place on a mannequin of porcelain and plaster, yet upon the face of a human did not but lend to it a visage of something alien and horrific, a perverse mockery of human life so naked in its debauched falsity that it was sickening to behold. 

With a heavy sigh of relief, the man took a deep breath, the tranquil calmness of someone who knew that they now stood at the end of their journey enveloping him as he popped the final latch of the case, taking a single moment to take in a breath before he opened it and let his eyes behold the contents of the case.

In the same vein as the exterior of the case, the interior was made of a stygian material designed to gently envelop and shield the contents of the case, said contents being little more than a single vial, barely the size of his index finger and yet seeming to be as large as the very planet itself as it say there before him, the dark crimson liquid semeing to radiate a glow of baleful scarlet so intense that it cast some of the shadows of the room aside, the darkness seeming to flee the encroaching light as though it was the scythe of Death itself. 

Faintly, the man noted how the scarlet light seemed to have a mind of its own, tendrils and garlands of dark crimson and brighter scarlet energy hungrily caressing each exposed inch of the room that it could, wisps of energy caressing the towering figure behind him as a master would an obedient pet, with a similar gesture being granted unto the figure that sat before him, the crimson glow seeming to cast upon those light violet eyes the glow of hellfire. 

Still enveloped in the tranquility of finality did them an reach out and pick up the vial, sparks of a sensation not electric or searing or frigid, yet some perverse amalgamation of each of them racing through his skin and into his very blood like a tidal wave of jagged glass that cut and tore and shredded all it touched, leaving behind mangled wounds that soon found themselves smoothed over in a deluge of scarlet power that twisted and made mockery of the very nature of the human soul. 

His hand was no longer his own. 

Of its own accord, as though possessed of a will more ancient and malign then the hideous expanse of the cosmos that seemed to swirl and churn around the Scarlet Moon that had crested over the Broken Frontline in that very moment, did his fingers gently pop the cork off the vial, ever so carefully bringing it to his lips even as his body unconsciously tried to jerk away from the vial before him.

Those same hands that had nearly snapped him like a twig now lashed out once more, fingers seemingly formed of granite and rebar in their unyielding might digging into his face as his mouth was forced open, gloves dense enough that his teeth could have done not but ever so faintly tickle skin beneath keeping him in place as they and that was once his own brought the vial to his mouth and began to upend it. 

As the first drop touched his tongue the man realized that he had been wrong, it was not liquid, more some form of semi-solid gelatinous mass, perhaps more likable to plasma than anything else found in nature or crafted by the hands of man and monster alike, began to flow down his throat, the same alien sensation that had engulfed his hand now enveloping his body entirely as waves of agony like nothing he could ever no washed over him again and again. 

Faintly, he realized that he was seizing, his body rebelling with all that it had, each and every base cell and molecule warring against the horrific might that now began to dig into him with ravenous fury, frigid and molten glass shards tearing him apart over and over again as liquid tides of molten agony assailed him at the same moment clouds of scarlet suffering flooded his lungs, choking his cries before they could leave his lips. 

At once his body felt full and empty, as though each drop of blood, each minute molecule had gained great and terrible weight one moment, only to flicker out of existence and leave him adrift in a senseless shell of misery the next, with the constant fluctuations of sensations tearing at his mind, razored claws sinking into succulent flesh as the fangs of madness began to gnaw hungrily at his mind, pits of madness beckoning ever so sweetly-

“Stop.”

Yet to him was such mercy denied, for there came over the agony that drowned out all else a voice that was not a voice, a weight and sensation that forced itself into his mind with the might of an avalanche, power so suffocating that it left his breath frozen in his lungs as his bodily functions ceased in obeisance to the order. 

A triangular mark filled his vision, parting the sanguine and onyx haze that had so mercifully enveloped him the silver white glow of the mark burning with such radiance that he could do not but attempt to flee its encroaching blaze, though to no avail was this mental flight, for garlands of ivory enveloped him as razor wire, pulling him into a realm of burning light and searing agony, his mind bound and shackled fit to do not but linger at the whims of the Mark.

“OBEY.”

Words yet not words, sensations yet not sensations, thoughts not his own and yet born in his mind echoed within his head as the Mark seared itself into him, nameless terror enveloping him for reasons he knew not as he languished in the unyielding grip of the Mark and of its horrific Will, though more there came for yet another voice low and soft, like the most gentle of spring breezes came into his ears, words unknowable to him mixing with the scorching orders of the Mark.

At last there came reprieve, when he felt the most tender of touches upon his chin, his vision flickering to see a new pair of eyes, their color so eerily reminiscent of the Devil’s and yet somehow worse in the cruel delight that gleamed in them as that soothing voice purred into his ears once more.

“Sleep now.”

His world went black. 

For how long this lasted he knew not, only that when he at last came to his senses it was to yet more pain, his body crying out in a thousand-thousand different tongues as he lay sprawled across an ochre floor of an empty room, table and chair and case and Monsters gone, leaving him alone in a puddle of his own blood and bodily waste, bile forming a halo around his head. 

With a whimper of the agony of flayed and torn nerves did the man try and force himself to rise, his bones feeling like shattered glass that cut and tore at him from within as he tried to force his arms and left to obey, only to fail as he fell down with yet another cry, tears flowing freely down his face as he desperately called out for mercy, though mercy there came none, for alone he laid in his own waste and tears. 

How long had he laid there in misery, hours, days, weeks? 

He could not say, only that there came at one point amidst the agonized delirium that had enveloped him a caress so saccharine in its gentleness that he could not have ignored it even had his mind not been on the brink of total annihilation, and so it was that as that most delicate of caresses swept through his very soul that he found the resolve to once more try to rise. 

It was agony, near to the absolute most sublime in its totality and might, yet still it was less than what had once assailed him when he had tried to force himself to rise, and thus it was that he could grit his teeth till he heard them crack as he rose from the floor, a joyful cry slipping past his lips as he did so. 

His arms braced around the pillar that the Beast of the Monster had once rested against, the man felt tears begin to slide down his cheeks once more, though these were not just born of the agony that assailed him, but also of the joy that filled him at being able to move, to walk, to live once more. 

He had thought the Devil had meant to kill him with the poison in that vial, some form of sorcery born of land’s unknown no doubt, or perhaps even the result of some form of Witchcraft of those Abominations that were corrupted by Mania, perhaps it had been too weak compared to his own will, perhaps the pain had been the fullest extent of it’s promise of suffering. 

A low chuckle, delirious and maddened, slipped past his lips as he began to force himself to move through the building once more, each step prompting flashes of white hot agony to assail him, though even such misery could do nothing to stop his smile from growing and his heart from singing. 

Yes, the Devil had failed to kill him, and now he had the chance to go back to his family, this time wisened by his agony and suffering, at last ready to heed the words of wisdom his wife had spoken to him and try a new lease on his life. 

He would go home, hold his beloved and kiss her as if his life depended on it, then he would hug his children and kiss their foreheads, sure they would have to move, perhaps even leave Dis itself if that Devil’s words about what it and its fellows had discovered was true, but all of that paled to just being able to be with them again.

‘I never should have let that dumbass talk me into it,’ he thought to himself as he braced himself against the wall he knew to be near the door, ‘fucking idiot couldn’t even do the job right!’  

A flash of irritation tore through him at the final thought, his hand clenching into a fist before it struck the wall, tears beginning to fall once more as he thought of all he would have to do to protect his family now, the company so long built up would have to be liquidated, their assets joining it before they left Dis, their names, perhaps even their faces, needing to be changed to avoid being found by the Snake and its pets. 

All he could do is hope that the Devil kept her word and that the rest of the Snake’s Monsters did not find before him and his had managed to flee the city, but he-

There was something on the door.

He blinked in confusion as he saw a piece of white paper held fast to the door, perhaps by tape or glue he could not tell, the immaculate white paper standing in stark contrast to the dark metal of the door, and making it seem as bright as the sun to him as he walked towards it, drawn by that ever so delicate pull. 

With a final pained groan he managed to get before the door, his hands braced on either side of the metal door as he lifted his head to look at the paper before him, a single word staring at him in simple print.

A word that made his world go white.

The word in question?

Hush.

Line Break

He blinked as he came to his senses once again, his head throbbing such that his vision was not but a flickering haze of agony, objects being near one second and far the next,each of them enveloped in a haze of grayish white that left him unable to fully process just what it was that was going on around him, let alone where it was that he was.

Unbidden he tried to take a step forward, his footing giving out in the next moment as he landed upon his front, his chin striking solid wood with force enough that he felt his teeth crack within his jaws, blood beginning to drip past his lips and onto the ground as he let out another low whimper of pain. 

For several moments he laid there, his vision darkened near to total blackness as he tried to make sense of what it was that was going on as he rolled onto his side, curling into a ball as he tried to wait for the pain to fade enough so that he could try to rise once more, something which seemed to last several moments of laying amidst a pool of his own blood and what felt like a stick carpet that clung to his body.

What must have been a few hours passed before the man was able to force himself to rise once more, his vision swimming in agony as he tried and failed to brace himself against what he could only assume to be a wall, with his hands failing to grasp the material due to an odd wetness that clung to them, with him falling down once more, though this time he was able to stop himself before he could fully fall his slick fingers digging into the carpet with as much force as they could as the man tried to force himself to rise to his feet once more.

Once more did he wait for several moments before he rose again, this time crawling froth on all fours as he looked up, a glimmer of light passing through what seemed to be a cracked door beckoning him forth as once more there came that saccharine pull, this time it came as a spreading of morphine, dulling his pain enough so that he could rise to his feet and stagger through the door, the light blinding him for several moments. 

How he wished it had blinded him forevermore. 

The first thing he noted when his vision came back to him was the mirror that rested before him, his eyes alighting on a mud and filth and blood caked face as though it was the visage of a stranger, his eyes were so bloodshot that he could not even discern the original color of them, only the paths blazed by his tears revealed his fair skin and the freckles that adorned it.

‘I know everything about you. Who you are. Where you come from. Where your family came from. Where you work. Where you had your first kiss. Even where and when it was that you made love to your wife for the first time.’ 

A chuckle slipped from his lips as he leaned down, turning on the sinks taps to pool water into its basin to splash on his face, a sigh of bliss slipping past his lips as he watched more and more of his face, of himself, become visible as more and more of the mud and blood and grime fell into the drain, staining the once cleaned ivory to near black, though he paid it no mind. 

‘I also know where your children go to school, who their teachers are, who their friends are, and where said friends and their families live. Your eldest son, Marquel needs to brush up on his mathematics, a C- at his age is quite a poor showing, even your youngest Gabriel is doing better than him with a B+.’ 

Groaning in bliss he reached out to grab at a towel he saw resting near the mirror, savoring each moment it touched his yet tender flesh as he dried his face, a moment spent basking in the softness of the material of the towel before he removed it from his face and tossed it aside. 

Yet as he tossed it aside, something caught his eye, something that to most would have been the most innocuous and meaningless of things, and yet to him was as monolithic in its imposing grandeur and the terror that it managed to stoke in him, such a small and fragile thing that made him turn to the door and begin to tear free from the room even as pain assailed him in full once more.

The plastic soldier, standing at attention beside the small toothbrush as though it were its nations flag, caked in blood such that the whites and blues of its armor were drowned near to brown, watched him go with dead eyes even as the pain tore at him with ravenous fingers, the saccharine pull vanishing as a cloyingly sweet laughter rang out in his head, the agony joining it in a chorus of mocking misery. 

‘A snap of my fingers, a word spoken in a single ear, and all that you love and know can and will vanish into the aether as if it never existed in the first place…A threat? Huh, I suppose it is fair to assume that you would not understand the severity of your situation, perhaps this can help you understand things. 

*Clink*

The jeweler lied to you by the way, the diamond is nowhere near as pure valuable as she led you to believe, I believe hse overcharged you by about 235.23 Discoins, though that is not taking the changes that taxes have undergone since you purchased the ring into account.

I assume you understand me now, correct?’

His shoulder slammed into the wall with enough force that the drywall gave way to form a small hole that snared him in place for a moment before he was able to pull himself free and begin to race down the hallway, or rather try to race down the hallway as once more his footing gave out on him and he fell onto his front, carpet burn assailing his face even as he tried and failed to rise once more. 

Tears had begun to fall as rain from his eyes as his heart thundered such that all other sound vanished amidst the roaring backdrop of terror fueled adrenaline, his lips moving in incomprehensible cries and gibbering pleas that failed to rise above whimpers and groans as he forced himself to move down the hall once more, crawling his way forward once more, mad hope and terror fueling his flight. 

‘I’m glad to see you understand the weight of my words now Elliot, but you don’t need to be so afraid, I am well aware that you were not the only guilty party in this situation, in fact your role was quite minor, but it still warrants punishment. 

Though if that punishment involves your loved ones or not is up to you, if you do what I ask then your family will be spared any attacks by my hand, and I will do the best that I can to mitigate the actions of my fellows, though the most I can promise is a head start to escape them.

Do you want to hear my offer?’

Elliot could swear that there was laughter echoing amidst the agony, mocking and coy it haunted his every step as he tried and failed to force himself forward once more, his strength failing him as he fell down into the sticky carpet once more, though this time he was able to see just what it was that had made it so sticky.

‘All you have to do is take responsibility for your deeds and show that you are willing to earn your second chance, and while this may sound daunting, I assure you that it is not as difficult as you think.’

His eyes widened to the fullest they could, a sob slipping past his lips as he began to cry in full, a soundless shriek leaving his lips as he beheld the scene before him, his already frayed and tattered mind beginning to tear at the seams entirely, though merciful madness was once more denied to him by twin mental grips, forcing him to remain aware and cognizant of what it was that lay before him. 

Heaving sobs slipped past his lips as he began to blubber, his tears blinding him, though doing nothing to lessen the horrible clarity of vision that plagued him as he beheld the scene before him. 

‘All you have to do-’

At last Elliot found his voice, at last he found himself able to speak, and speak he did, a low whisper of a mind on the verge of shattering and yet denied such merciful oblivion, a word that once made his heart swell with joy but now tore at him with talons of burning ichor. 

“Mel-mela-melanie?”

‘-is Die.’

His wife’s severed head stared back at him.

Distantly Elliot noted that chunks of her scalp had been torn away to reveal the white of her skull, which had similarly been fractured and torn in many an area to reveal the pinkish hue of her brain, as though by the maws of some great beast, her eyes, once the most wonderous shade of sea-foam green he had ever seen had shared in her brains fate, as they seemed to have been torn free of their sockets, with not but ichorus tears to flow to mark where the eyes had once been.

Lips adorned with the light blue lipstick that she was so fond of had been torn and split such that her teeth would have been visible in many spots even had her mouth not been fixed into an expression of horrid terror and agony even in death. 

Her body…was everywhere.

Draped over the ceiling fan and across the chairs and couch, caking the walls and ceiling and carpets and even the table and TV, was her body, her skin and bones and blood and organs all laying in a chaotic mess that field the air with a fetid aroma that he was only now aware of, his senses having gone blind to it until he focused on the scene before him. 

With all the strength Elliot had left in his body he forced himself forward on his hands and knees, delicately lifting his beloved’s head to into his lap as heaving sobs tore from his him, filling the silence of the room, cries and anguished howls soon joining them as he found his breath returning to him as quickly as it left his burning lungs. 

Distantly he recalled the words Melanie had spoken to him nearly a week ago, when she had pulled him aside from their construction company’s meeting with that…Thing from the MBCC. 

‘I don’t care what you think about Sinners or about her! If this investigation goes well for us and we get the job, then we can have more doors open to us than ever before, so keep your mouth shut, smile and play nice or you had best be fuckign ready to sleep in that car of yours!’

As Elliot held his wife’s head close to him, his world becoming nothing but the howling cries of anguish that slipped past his lips and the warmth of what blood had yet to dry seeping from her mangled stump and onto him, he could not help but recall how he had thought her to be mad to even consider playing nice around such things as that woman and her pets, but now he knew better, his wife had been right the whole time.

As he cradled Melanie’s head he thought to himself of how it had come to this, how stupid he had been to even consider that fucking stupid plan to be anything more than the ramblings of a delusional fool spoken amidst a shared drunken stupor. 

A moment of joy at seeing a figure collapse to the ground in agony as a bullet tore its way through her chest, two cones of ice cream falling to the ground as she did so all while his cousin remarked how disappointed he was that they didn’t take her alive, was not worth the price of his beloved and his…oh…oh God no…

“Ma-Marquel? Gab-Ga-Gabriel?” He managed to choke out, a whimpering sob barely above a whisper at first, though soon he managed to force his lungs to cry it out louder, hoping beyond hope for a reply, though none there came. 

Tears spilling from his eyes, Elliot delicately set his Melanie’s head down on the ground as he forced himself to rise, his eyes roving over the living room and thankfully not alighting upon the mangled corpses of his children, though of little comfort was this when he was once again faced with the viscera painted walls of his living room, bile barely held back from spilling past his lips as he forced himself to turn and-

Something clattered on the opposite end of the hall…right where his sons shared room was.

It could barely have even been called a plan, being born of his anger at losing such a lucrative contract and his wife’s misplaced anger at him, alongside of his deluded fool cousin and his own hatred for both the Things that the Snake used as it soldiers and the Thing that lead the organization, her refusal of his advances, and the sickness on her face when he had tried to touch her, along with the punch she had given him, having only solidified his disdain for her to the point of the fools idea. 

Without a thought he began to race towards the hall with as much haste as he could muster as he called out his son’s names once more, barely averting falling face first onto the carpet several times as he did so, his mad dash ending when he rammed into the wall at the end of the hallway, his shoulder screaming out in agony, though he paid its desperate cries no mind as he turned to the doorway

Barely had the noise begun to grow before he had lunged forward, smashing aside the door with all the force that he could muster, the wood giving way under him with much greater ease than he thought it would, though he paid this little mind as he lifted his head to see what it was that had caused the commotion.

The first thing he saw was his children, their faces soaked in tears and mucus as they huddled together in a corner, Marquel having taken up the metal baseball bat he had given him as a birthday gift in defense of his brother, uncaring of the blood dripping down from a weeping gash upon his brow and what seemed to be a shattered arm as he stood before the trembling form of Gabriel, the youngest of his sons having closed his eyes and covered his ears as he wailed. 

The second thing that caught his eye was what it was that loomed over his children, and what was currently lunging at him, scything blades for claws aimed directly at his throat even as a maw of needle like teeth opened with a howling shriek to tear out his throat should the claws fail to do their mission. 

With a cry Elliot leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding the claws that came within a hair's breadth of his neck, the fetid reek of unwashed flesh adorned with scars and pockmarks that hung loosely from its unnatural form filling his nose as soulless white eyes set upon a field of sanguine tainted eyes met his own, hunger and hate beyond all sane comprehension burning as hellfire within them as the creature moved forth again. 

Yet helpless prey he was not, for with all the fury he could summon forth to protect his children he lunged forward meeting the beast charge with a shoulder check that sent it sprawling against the base of the bed, the creature barely having had time to right itself before Elliot was atop it, a wordless roar slipping past his lips as he seized its arms by the wrists, his head meeting its own with a headbut that made his vision blur, but prompted the beast to cry out as its head flung backwards.

“RUN NOW!” Elliot yelled out to his sons, barely having time to register the sound of what he assumed to be Gabriel racing past him as his brother cried out for him, the smaller child fleeing past his father and down the hall, with his eldest following him as soon as the beast let out a roar of its own and began to fight back, a snarl slipping past its lips as it slammed its own head forward in full, the headbut being made more damaging as the beast’s fangs sunk into the tip of his nose, the creature throwing its head back as it tore the chunk of flesh free from his face with a cry of pain. 

Though soon the pain faded as adrenaline seized him in an iron grip, his vision tunneling until he could see not but the creature before him, his hearing becoming not but the sounds of his thundering heart and the shrieking howls of the beast as the two fought, furniture being flung aside and shattered as the two grappled, Elliot narrowly avoiding the needle like fangs as he held the beasts hands by the wrist so as to avoid its claws.

For a time their battle seemed to be a stalemate, neither gaining nor losing ground until at last an opportunity came for Elliot to gain the upperhand in their struggle, as one of the boys stray socks, something he had reminded them time and again to pick up, was caught under the beast’s foot with the creature slipping backwards as Ellito took advantage of the space made to relinquish his grip on the beasts arms as he lifted his leg up and brought his foot down as hard as he could onto the creatures head.

A loud crack filled the room as the beast’s head met contact with the hard wood of the dresser, a whine that soon bled into a shrieking cry slipping past the beast’s lips as it tried to rise and lunge forward once more, only to be denied the chance as Elliot lifted up the closest object he could find, in this case Marquel’s computer monitor, and brought it down with as much force as he could on the beast’s head.

The first blow seemed to stun the creature as it fell backwards once more, its hands lifting up to shield itself from the following attack as Elliot rained down strike after strike, the monitor cracking and fracturing as he brought it down again and again, acrid brown blood that reeked of rot and decay tainting the monitor and the beast’s arms and the ground around it as the broken glass of the monitor, shattered after a hard blow, bit into its skin.

Howls and cries slipped past the beast’s lips as it fought to defend itself, one clawed hand slipping from over it face to grasp a handful of dirty clothes that it cast at Elliot’s face, the sudden act making Elliot lose his momentum as he had to swat aside the clothes, only to be met with the beast ramming into him with full force, the blow sending him crashing into the ground as the creature took the chance leap past him, cries of agony slipping past its lips as it fled in the same direction as his boys had run. 

A roar slipping past his lips, Elliot forced himself to his feet as he grasped the broken monitor once more before he tore out of the room, slamming into the door to his and Melanie’s room as he did so, any thoughts of racing inside to acquire the hand-gun he had under his bed being tossed aside as he heard a commotion near his front door, adrenaline and rage driving him forth to abandon all logic as he raced down the hall to where he could see the beast trying to claw open the door, one hand hanging limply at an off angle and the other so slick with blood it seemed to have given the door a new paint job.

Seeing a chance to finish this battle, Elliot raced forward, the monitor raised high as he prepared to-

*CRASH*

The wall beside the door erupted in a shower of drywall and plaster, a hulking form lunging forward with speed that it should not have been able to possess,one hand, the size of Elliot’s own head seizing the monitor and tearing it from his grasp before he could bring it down, the titanic hand seizing his wrist with a bone breaking grip as the other collided with his face with all the force of a sledgehammer, his vision swimming as darkness lashed hungrily at the edges of his sight for a moment before the figure brought another blow directly into his stomach, the blow nearly making him vomit as he staggered back before being jerked forward and hit once more.

The last sight he saw before darkness claimed him, was the creature that had butchered his wife and nearly torn apart his sons as well, seeming to flicker and shimmer, its form distorting and changing before his eyes at impossible speeds as soon he saw the form the creature had taken. 

His wife.

His Melanie caked in her own blood, a broken hand being held to her side as figures adorned in full black armor pulled her from the home.

Armor adorned with the symbol of a silver double-headed serpent coiled around an M. 

Line Break.

How long ago had that been…the passage of time had become so distorted to him that Elliot could no longer tell whether it had been hours, days, or even weeks since the day when his world had been torn apart.

He could only recall in vague distorted flickers the way that he had awoken in a brightly lit room, his arms and legs restrained as he sat bound to a chair, a woman with aqua colored eyes that seemed fit to glaze over in permafrost from the sheer intensity of the frigid glare she had fixed upon him,  standing across from him, her fingers clutching a clipboard so tightly that he thought it might snap in twain under the strain of her grip.

Vaguely, he noted how her lips were moving, each syllable seeming to come through gritted teeth as she spoke to him, yet her words were unintelligible, as though spoken through great volumes of water, with only the emotion present in each word reaching him, for no matter how hard it was that the woman tried to maintain the facade of a professional there was only so much she could prevent the seemingly ever growing fury that had taken root within her from seeping into her words.

Dimly he noted that she was not alone, his eyes were barely able to pick up the presence of two other figures standing with the woman, one whose gender he could not discern stood with a shield attached to their arm, their blue eyes were narrowed near to slits as visibly restrained themself from taking action.

The third figure was one he could not fully see, only vaguely registering that there was a figure steeped in the shadows in a corner of the room, a gaze as sharp as a razor blade fixated on him, with all the lethality of the same blade being drug across an exposed jugular, as the figure silently watched the going ons.

Faintly, he thought he smelled something floral…something familiar though he could not tell where from, when he focused on that corner.

“*** *** ******** ** **!?” 

The aqua eyed woman snapped at him, the words were  yet still unintelligible, though the sheer weight of the frigid anger that coated them in permafrost made all too clear that whatever it was she had said was something that required his attention, though he knew not how to respond.

But Elliot could not respond, his mouth refusing to move under his command, no words he wanted to say leaving his lips as the woman visibly grew yet more angered at his silence, with her seemingly at last losing the battle with her patience as she moved to stand before him, the weight of her glare increasing till he felt he would be ground into dust beneath it were she to not avert it soon. 

“******* **!” 

Again she spoke, and yet again he could not understand her, the distortion that enveloped her words seeming to mock him as he struggled to try and discern just what it was that was happening at this moment, his mind and body weighted down yet still by some form of torpor which served to only further hinder him from responding to the woman or making sense of what was going on in the room.

The woman seemed to only grow in her fury at his silence, her teeth visibly gritting against themselves for a moment before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, an ominous stillness, like that before a great storm broke, enveloping her form before she turned about on her heel and began to walk away, seemingly calling out to the figure by the door as she moved to leave the room.

Desperately, Elliot raged against whatever force it was that held his tongue still, trying with all of the might that his enfeebled body possessed to try and speak up, to try and plead for answers to what was going on, where he was, and why he was bound…

And this time his body acquiesced to his demand, though not in the way he wished.

“She deserved it.”

At first he did not know where the words came from, for he could not believe that he was capable of speaking words so heavily coated in frigid acid as the those three words had been, but when he saw the woman go still, the eyes of her guard widening as their lips parted in surprise, he knew that they had come from him.

But he had not spoken them, Elliot knew that, he had not thought those words, nor had he tried to say them, so why was it that they had-

“What did you just say?”

At last the distortion passed, the words emerging from the depths of some sea of unintelligible gibberish to grace his ears with the frigid fury of a blizzard as the woman turned her head to look at him, the lone aqua eye that was visible seeming fit to catch alight with a flame of arctic frigidity as she gazed at him.

Beside her, elliot noted how the guard’s jaw had clenched their arms visibly straining with the effort it took to hold themself back from lunging forward and hitting him with their shield with all of the strength that they could muster, something they were prevented from doing but by their own professionalism.

Though that thin strand was in danger of soon snapping as their own temper began to grow. 

From the shadows across the room there came shuffling sounds as unseen figures clenched their weapons and readied themselves to lunge should the order be given or their tempers boil over too much.

Though none of this horrified Elliot more than the realization that it was not so much his body could not speak, as much as it was that he could not speak through his body, his form moving of its own volition as it spoke once more, his struggles against the words that began to slip past his lips being drowned out by the flicker of a blazing triangle and a wordless command that echoed as thunder in his mind.

‘OBEY.’

And obey his body did, as words began to pour forth once more, each syllable prompting the horror Elliot felt to grow, his eyes kept from widening in terror only by the commands that seemed to have seized fast his body in an all consuming grip.

“I said that whore you call your ‘Chief’ deserved what happened to her, all she had to do was spread her legs for someone like she does for all of you freaks and none of thi-” His words died on his lips as something struck him across the face with enough force to cast himself and his chair to the ground, blood beginning to drip from a split lip across his cheek as hands clad in leather gloves seized him by the collar and lifted him up as the shadows violently shifted and stirred, whispers of malice baying for blood held firm by a silent order from another.

Elliot looked up, his eyes meeting the aqua colored eyes of the woman who had eben interrogating him a moment earlier, her eyes were wide and her pupils shrunken to pinpricks as she held her clipboard before her, ready to swing it with all the force she could muster, though it was not her who had stuck him, for such an honor belonged to the third figure, who now stood before him in full.

A lengthy cane of silver metal was wordlessly lifted up to allow for the figure, a woman clad in a white hat with a feather upon it, a white coat, which hung loosely from her shoulders, a purple shirt with a dark plum colored tie, a chest harness, and a gray skirt and high black boots, to wipe away the blood and saliva that lay atop its base with a handkerchief held in black leather glove clad hands. 

With an unspoken command she directed her only visible eye, a green that seemed to have been engulfed in the frigid malice of the 9th circle of hell itself, to the guard who had stood beside the door, the figure offering a silent nod before they stepped forward, the crunching of the ground under their boots and the way the light cast their form in shadow as they loomed over him only serving to make Elliot’s heart hammer yet louder still as he braced for the attack to come.

Yet no attack came, instead the guard moved to seize him in an iron grip, self-control of near divine proportion battling with an inferno that burned within their eyes, waves of hellfire coming alight and threatening to sear away his flesh and bone and even his very soul should that control fail, though for now the rage was throttled, held fast in place by will and restraint alone as she sat him back up, pausing but to direct their gaze at the cane wielding woman after she had done so.

“Cinnabar, would you please take our little Songbird and go and get some rest,” her words were delivered in a tone that brook no dissent, steel as unyielding as it was sharp forming each words as she moved to stand before him, bidding the guard, Cinnabar, to move aside.

Again his lips opened of their own accord, words of hateful condemnation forming atop his tongue and readied to spill out yet again, though this time it was upon his own tongue they died for just as the first few slurs had begun to slip past his lips had their gazes met.

The fly looked into the eyes of the Spider.

Elliot felt his heart freeze, blood turning to glacial water as eyes of frigid emerald bore into his very soul like the fangs of a spider, faintly he noted the scar that rested above one her eyes, though he paid it little mind as the longer he stared into those eyes, the more he thought he felt the sensation of spider legs crawling upon him, strands of silk binding him fast as he tried and failed to get himself free from a suffocating grip as the woman watched him writhe.

Salvation from the terror that had seized him came in the most unlikely of forms as a voice spoke up from behind the woman.

“Director tha-” The Adjutant was cut off by the woman rapping her cane on the ground, a small series of spider-web cracks radiating from where the metal tip had struck the concrete below them, her hat now covered both of her eyes as she took a deep breath before she turned to look over her shoulder at the Adjutant, aqua meeting emerald as he silently awed at the Adjutant enduring the stare without flinching, let alone quaking as he did. 

For a moment their gazes were locked, with the somewhat smaller woman nodding her head at last as she turned to allow for the other figure to escort her out, though just as she had begun to walk away, and the woman’s gaze had turned back towards him, the smaller woman called out once more.

“Director.” The taller woman turned her head just enough to both keep an eye on him and to look at the woman over her shoulder, the smaller woman pausing to take a deep breath to steel herself before she spoke once more.

“Should I send… them in?” 

Again there came a brief pause, stillness such that Elliot dared not to even breath for fear of disturbing it enveloping the room in an all encompassing grip, a silence so deafening that even the thundering of his heart seemed to be swallowed amidst the cacophony of total silence.

And then the silence broke, words spoken with such naked cruel delight that Elliot could not fight the whimper that tore from his lips the phantom control of his body allowing for the action seemingly out of mockery of his plight as the woman turned her gaze towards him, her lips curling up into the smile of  a victorious predator.

The smile of a spider seeing a particularly juicy fly caught in its web. 

“Go ahead, the more the merrier.” 

The aqua haired woman offered a nod before she and the guard left the room, barely a few moments seeming to have passed before he once more heard the sound of approaching footsteps, the cane wielding woman that had been called ‘Director’ by the aqua haired woman not bothering to turn as a truly titanic figure entered the room.

Hair like midnight fell around eyes of burning silver, a sneering mask-

Silver eyes glared down at him from above a demonic mask, veins of blazing scarlet spread across the figure's face like fingers of hellsfire reaching out to caress them with a lover’s possessiveness. 

No.

No, no, no, no-

With but a pair of swift strides the woman had entered the room and moved to take her place beside the door, her eyes watching him like a ravenous beast would a cut of choice meat, bloodlust and hunger seeming to be held at bay but by the grace of some form of unseen restraint-

She leaned against the pillar behind him as he looked at the case before him, her gaze the silent promise of a guillotine blade as he fought down his sobs and terror as he tried to steady his trembling hands enough to open the case before him.

If she was here…if this beast was here then-

“Well, this is quite rare, Director Langley.” 

A voice that would haunt his nightmares till the day he died filled the room, soft and gentle, so delicate that it seemed as though a stray breeze could silence it forever, and yet that fragility did nothing to lessen the terror Elliot felt as a woman entered the room. 

Black heels clicking on the floor as a figure clad in a white dress and large coat entered the room-

His face was smashed into the stone floor with such force his vision swam, blood filling his mouth as a silent cry of pain slipped from his lips as he was made to prostrate himself before the figure sitting before him, his pain filled gaze and humiliated state reflected back at him from the mirror sheen of those shoes as the frail figure gazed at him with the weight of black holes behind her empty eyes. 

Light purple eyes met his own as rose colored lips curled into a small smile-

She watched him with a gaze more reminiscent of a statue than that of a human, no flicker of anger or joy, sorrow or fear, pleasure or pain daring to cross her features as he looked at the wedding ring she had laid on the table before him.

“Normally, you can’t stand to be in the same room as me, let alone work with me.” That ever so delicate voice spoke up once more as the woman moved to stand with this Director Langley, a small smile on her face as the other woman regarded her with an expression of such faux joviality a blind man could have seen through it.

“Don’t get used to it, Hush.” The way the Director spoke that name, Hush, it was as though it physically made her ill to even utter the first few syllables of it, let alone the whole word, something which the smaller woman seemed to pay no mind to as she patiently waited for her to continue. 

“I just want to make sure we get as much as we can out of him and your… talents alongside of our dear therapist will make sure that we get everything we need and more.” Again there came a tone of disgust and displeasure, her smile slipping into a thin scowl for but a moment before she turned her head towards the other figure that had entered the room. 

A woman holding a golden pocket watch stepped forward, her long hair flowing with every step she took, the coat she wore over one shoulder doing nothing to hide her form from his eyes, though it was not her beauty that made Elliot gaze at her, no that honor belonged to the look in her eyes as she drew nearer to him.

The anticipatory look of a predator who has cornered their meal at last. 

“Well then,” She spoke up, this new woman’s voice was the epitome of calm and elegant, and yet there was beneath that veneer of civility something else, something which made Elliot yearn to wrest control from his body and flee as the woman drew nearer to him even as the the grip on him-

‘OBEY.’

- yet firm remained.

For a moment he thought he saw one of the white clad woman’s eyes gain a marking, a white triangle amidst a spreading field of crimson, as her small smile grew ever so slightly into one that was both ever so gentle and yet ever so cruel as she looked at him.

The Director wordlessly lifted her cane up, allowing for Elliot to watch as she calmly tapped a hidden button on the top of it, allowing for a small compartment to slide open, a small black cylinder was removed from the compartment, with the woman opening it to reveal a syringe and a thin vial filled with an ochre colored fluid.

As the Director filled the syringe with the liquid, the newly arrived woman stepped forward, her long blond hair seeming caught in a spectral breeze as she ever do delicately reached into her own coat pocket to retrieve a golden pocket watch, the light glinting off of her glasses as her lips curled in vicious glee as Elliot trembled within the confines of his mind even as his body raged against his will. 

The curses and slurs fell from his lips as water until he felt the sharp sting of the syringe being stabbed into the side of his neck, emerald eyes watching with unspoken delight as his vision began to swim and blur, spectral hands reaching out to hold him fast as words once more became distorted as reality swam around him.

The final words he heard before oblivion swallowed him were-

“Shall we begin?”

Line Break

Shalom smiled as she saw the man before her, his body coated in sweat as tremors wracked his frame, his eyes bloodshot with pupils shrunken to not but a pinprick of darkness as his terror held him fast in an unyielding grip, his chest heaving as sobs and gibbering lunacies spilled forth from his lips in place of please and curses and slurs, the nonsensical babbling bringing forth no small amount of delight within the Hush. 

Idly, Shalom turned her head to inspect her compatriots, watching as Chameleon wordlessly tucked her pen back into her coat pocket alongside of her notebook, a series of notations regarding both the efficiency of their method of extracting information and an analysis of what could have been improved adorning it in the psychiatrists’ normal elegant penmanship. 

On the other side of the room was Langley, the Spider having taken a seat as she cleaned off her cane once more, wiping away small amount of blood and mucus that adorned it’s base after the man had made a rather tasteless remark concerning their Chief’s sexuality, the Spider and Rahu’s reply being something which had made Shalom exceptionally grateful for the absence of Schorl, though she wondered if the price she would be made to pay would be worth such an opportunity.

For a moment, her thoughts flickered back nearly a week ago, to when she had been leaving her room to visit her Chief as she rested in the Hospital Wing, to when she had heard the sound of footsteps approaching her, the form of her little Christina causing a small smile to cross her face as her detective walked in silence with her for several moments, Shalom feeling quite grateful for the silence as it allowed her to try and clear her mind and focus on-

  Christina began to hum, her lips did not move much as from her throat there came out notes of a delicate and gentle song, tender and full of compassion, a lullaby that would bid even the most stubborn into the sojourn of dreams…a song that Shalom had heard long ago…a song that had haunted her nightmares since she had heard it.

Her eyes had barely had a chance to widen before her Schorl fell to the ground, defenses failing in but an instant as onyx quartz cracked on impact with the ground as Christina continued to walk forward, even as Shalom stood rooted in place, the detective turning to look over her shoulder at her with a small smile before she beckoned her to follow her.

A low chuckle slipped past Christina’s lips as Shalom moved to stand beside her, the detective reaching out her hand to entangle it with Shalom's own, though the Hush reacted in a way she would never have done to her Detective, with her tearing her hand free as though the skin, a perfect mirror of her detective’s own, was a vice of scalding iron, a look of disgust crossing her face as the woman beside her paused to look at her with a hurt look on her face.

“S-Shalom? What’s wrong? D-did I do something w-wrong?” Christina said, her voice trembling with hurt as her lips curved downwards into a trembling frown, her eyes beginning to grow moist, a sight that should have made shalom feel the urge to reach out and embrace her detective, yet instead only made the feeling of visceral disgust she had felt upon her realization grow.

  “Stop. I told you not to wear her form around me.” The Hush growled out, her lips thinning as her eyes narrowed into a cutting glare at the woman who stood beside her, there was something she so rarely displayed in her words coating them, a sincere and honest emotion called forth from the very depths of her being, said emotion being a feeling of such deep seated disdain that it left her body trembling as it enveloped her, her rage only growing as the thing before her dropped it’s mask of faux hurt, lips curving upwards to release a laugh that normally would have made Shalom feel at ease, and yet now only made her feel dread.

“ Alright, alright my dear, ” The voice was wrong, it did not belong to the woman before her, low and sultry, velvet coated in saccharine sin that dripped and pooled around the young woman, each word perfectly designed to cause a haze to form in the minds of those who heard it, the unnatural allure that coated them enough to make anyone submit, though for Shalom it only made her disgust grow.

  “No more games.” In less than a blink her detective’s eyes had changed, an unnatural blue that seemed to burn with an internal light of unknown origin gazing into her own with such inscrutable intent that it left the Hush feeling the urge to take a step back and flee, though she was able to easily overcome the faint voice that bid her to run as she locked eyes with the…thing that was wearing the form of her detective.

  “Let’s talk, shall we Shalom?” Those eyes had burned her, scorched and seared and froze and tore at her very being even as they soothed and cradled and mended her, the words echoed in her head as though the thunderous shout of the Almighty itself,  something she often thought to be not far from the truth as the entity before her turned to look at her in full, a warm smile that left chills racing down Shalom’s spine gracing its face as it spoke up.

“ Let’s talk about how I can help you clean up this mess. ” Spoke the Devil to the Hush.

A sigh slipped past Shalom’s lips as she came out of her reverie, the Hush calling upon all of her experience to bury the unease she felt into the depths of her being, the dread at what the woman had done to blind the all-seeing eyes of Paradeisos swept aside in her desire to see the threat to her Chief removed, perhaps there would be a price to pay later on, but for now she would do all she could to insure that her Chief was safe, and should the price be high then she knew that Coquelic, Rahu, Christina and Langley would be able to see this mission through to the end.

  After taking a slight breath to steady herself, Shalom gently took out her tablet and began to make some amendments to her notes, sifting out old and new information automatically, even as her mind wandered to how all of this had begun, to when-

A warm hand entangled with her own, platinum eyes meeting hers as rose colored lips curved upwards into a smile that made her have to fight down the urge to pull out her camera and immortalize the scene in one of her many albums. 

Dimly she noted how she had been pulled to what she noted was some form of cafe, with the platinum eyed woman pulling out her chair and helping Shalom to sit at the table, the frailer white clad woman smiling up at her beloved Chief as she leaned down to place her lips to Shalom’s brow, the pair sharing a low chuckle as both of their eyes drifted shut, with them pausing where they were, Persephone basking in Shalom’s presence just as she did the same. 

Though all good things must one day come to an end, and in this case they came to an end with her Chief pulling away from her as she went to head into the cafe, wordlessly smiling at Shalom over her shoulder before she entered the building, the Hush taking the time to calm her own beating heart as she silently cast her gaze on a part of the crowd where she knew she felt ever so familiar eyes on her. 

Today was supposed to be her day with Persephone, but she knew it was too much to ask for her ever so loyal dog to not follow her, though she did admit it was amusing watching Rahu attempt to contend with the various men and women that were ogling her and attempting to flirt with her, Rosa, who had somehow been roped into this surveillance mission, seemed to be rapidly losing her battle with her own humor as Rahu once more whirled around to look at a trio of blushing and giggling young women.

A small smile crossed her face as Shalom shook her head for a moment at the scene before she heard her Chief call out to her, the Hush turning in her chair to see the Chief staggering towards her, seemingly battling with a pair of untied shoelaces and the inability to set down the pair of ice-cream cones she was holding, her battle with gravity seeming fit to nearly end with her triumph as she drew near to Shalom, a smile on her face-

*CRACK*

Something wet and warm splattered across Shalom’s face as she saw her Chief stagger, the frozen confectionery slipping from her hand as she swayed for but a moment before she fell to her knees and then her front, a pool of crimson beginning to-

“Shalom!”

She jolted to her senses, her eyes wide as she took a single low breath as she regained control of herself, her mask flickering back into place as though it had never faded in the first place as she tucked her tablet into her coat once more before she turned to look at the woman that had called out to her.

Rahu’s eyes raked over her face, picking apart every microscopic detail that they could as she tried to discern what it was that plagued her Mistress, with the answer seeming to come to her as she offered a low sigh of her own, barely audible behind her mask as she moved towards Shalom, the clicking of her heels on the concrete flooring being the only sound in the room, aside from the gibbering of the fool bound to the chair.

A brief sweep of the room revealing the absence of Langley and Chameleon, the Hush taking a moment to mentally berate herself for having allowed herself to lose herself in recollection, the gradual restoration of her emotions must have been taking more of a toll on her than she thought was what swept through her mind as she felt Rahu’s hands come to rest on her shoulders.

“The Spider and that Lizard have gone to get everything set up to go after the rest of this group, I told them you were busy thinking over everything and would join them in a few minutes.” Rahu said as she looked over her lady, a small smile from Shalom and a single step forward being all the prompt her ever loyal hound needed to give her a brief yet tight embrace, a much longer one could wait until later on when their current business was concluded.

“Thank you my dear, please go and let them know I’ll be joining them in a moment, I simply need to verify some information before I do so.” Shalom spoke up to her faithful guard, allowing for her hand to delicately cup her cheek for a moment before she let it fall to her side as she turned around, Rahu moving to fulfill her request as the the steady rapping of her heels gradually faded away until the door was at last shut and she was alone.

Or rather, she would have been alone were it not for the whimpering hype of flesh that sat before her, the sound of their pained cries would have made her feel something akin to pity were she not aware of the source of it, as such in the place of pity there came something approaching cruel delight in the form of a low hum that slipped past Shalom’s lips.

With a languid stride born of the desire to delight in the scene before her for but a moment longer, Shalom stood before the trembling form of Elliot, her lips finding their usual shape of an empty smile as she delicately reached out her hand and seized the trembling man by the chin, tilting his head to where he was once more forced to meet her gaze.

A part of her felt disgust at the way she felt such delight at the man’s cry of dread, knowing fully well how her Persephone would view such an action should she learn of it, but as she had done so many times before, and would do many times more, she hushed that part of her into silence.

After all, what Peresphone did not know would hurt no one’s heart.

‘What’s one more lie, to keep seeing that smile?’ Was the thought that allowed Shalom peace of mind, the knowledge that her actions, no matter how abhorrent, had brought about safety and stability for her beloved and those she called dear to her own heart, was more than enough to grant her a clear conscience as she did what she did best, what she was born to do.

Fix problems.

“To tell you the truth, I was trying to leave this part of me behind,” Shalom began as she lifted up her hand, ever so delicately cupping Elliot’s cheek in her hand, her tender grip did nothing to conceal the malice that swirled within her eyes, darkening them near to pitch as droplets of blood began to trail from where her nails pierced his flesh.

No words slipped past Elliot’s lips, merely another pained whimper that soon trailed off into a groan as Shalom’s other hand delicately reached up and wrapped itself around his throat, the Hush feeling nothing but cold satisfaction as she felt the man’s pulse thundering beneath her grip. 

“But people like you always find some way to drag this part of me back out…” She trailed off for a moment, allowing a weary sigh to slip past her lips before her mask returned to its natural position as the Mark flared into existence, the symbol reflecting in Elliot’s eyes as the man went rigid in her grip. 

Chameleon’s subliminal commands and manipulations would insure that the man before her remained unable to say a word about what had happened to him to anyone, and her own Mark would further reinforce the indoctrinations to the absolute of their control over the man, alongside of insuring that only the persona that had been crafted by Chameleon and herself would remain to see the light of day, while the true Elliot remained a prisoner in his own body.

Of course, she was not completely without some facsimile of mercy, his family would live to see a bright future, as she had promised him, though the mental scars would linger for many years but in time she was confident they would heal, and that none of them would go on to attempt the same foolishness their former patriarch had, plans already in motion to put them firmly under her gentle grip. 

Well, gentle so long as they obeyed that is. 

Likewise, she would insure that Elliot also got to live, perhaps he would even be able to see his family sometimes, and not the monsters that his other persona would claim them to be whenever it saw them, though his inability to tell them the truth of what had happened to him, along with the trauma of his actions and the revelation of his part in the attempt on Her Persephone’s life and the potential backlash they could face were it not for her mercy, would keep them from fully trusting him.

And now here she held the man, letting but one last flare of the Mark carve itself into his mind as she offered a final layer of subliminal messages and commands to insure that the man before her would never again no the beauty of a clear mind, or the warmth of the sun for that matter, ever again.

Those thoughts should have made her feel sick, to feel nauseous as she supposed was only right for someone committing so great a cruelty, yet instead it only brought her a vague sense of satisfaction at a job well done, and a sense of…well…she was not quite certain what to call the other feeling, some form of exasperation perhaps at the fact she had to do this, or perhaps it was a sense of justification?

She would have to sit down and sort out her emotions when she got the chance, perhaps she could even enlist the aid of Coquelic in this endeavor, the temptation of Flower Cakes and some new seeds for her little botanical garden should do the trick in buying her aid and silence, or perhaps she could approach that Flower that her Christina cannot help but wax poetic over.

But such matters could wait until later, as she at last allowed Elliot to slip from her grip and fall to the ground, the man curling into a ball as Shalom walked away, pausing but to offer one last glance over her shoulder at the shattered man behind her before she left him to the guards.

That the guards showed as little mercy to the man as Rahu had when she had found him, gave Shalom a sense of satisfaction, truly her Chief had chosen the most loyal of subordinates to stand at her side, the screening the Spider and her had put them through only ensuring these most loyal of souls were there to defend the one so dear to them.

Now she just had to hope they didn’t decide to introduce Elliot to any of the other Sinners before they got him to his cell, granted it would be no true loss to her if they did, but it would be quite inconvenient to have to clean up the ensuring mess and make certain that the Adjutant did not rat her out.

And speaking of the Adjutant, there she was, leaning against the wall of the hallway that lay between her and the room where her Rahu was waiting for her alongside of Chameleon and Langley, the aqua haired woman’s eyes meeting her own as she spoke up.

“I don’t know what you did to him, and for the sake of my peace of mind I’m not going to ask.” Nightingale spoke up, a sigh slipping from her lips as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a personal phone, her fingers ghosting over it for a moment before she spoke up again.

“Persephone’s vitals are improving, but she is still unconscious. Dr. Iron thinks she’ll need a few more days in that pod before she can be transferred to a normal bed, but she still can’t say when she could wake up.” Another sigh slipped past Nightingale’s lips as her fingers twitched once more, a flicker of moisture glazing her eyes before it was wiped away.

Shalom stood in silence as she processed the information, her mask slipping enough to allow for a small frown to cross her face as she kept her gaze fixed on the woman before her, allowing for the adjutant to take a moment to compose herself before she spoke.

“When was the last time you slept…Nightingale?” It was one of the very few times she allowed for herself to say the other woman’s name as opposed to her title, the other woman blinking at her in confusion for a moment before she offered another tired sign, her hand reaching up to rub at her eyes as she spoke up. 

“I…I don’t know…maybe 2 days, but I can’t say for certain.” Shalom tilted her head for a moment, a small sigh slipping past her lips before she walked towards her rival, allowing for her hand to rest itself on her shoulder, a small sense of amusement slipping into her heart as she saw Nightingale jolt slightly at her touch as she looked at her in confusion. 

“Go and get some rest,” Shalom spoke, a rare hint of compassion for the woman that had so vexed her upon her arrival at Minos and her attempts at gaining such a spot of favor with Persephone as the aqua haired woman held.

Nightingale said nothing for a moment as she looked at Shalom, before she let her head fall back against the wall, her hat wrinkling under the grip of her hand as it tightened for just a moment before it relaxed near to the point of letting it slip free as the Adjutant let her eyes drift shut for a few moments before she pushed herself off of the wall, allowing for Shalom to step back as she put her hat back on.

“I’ll be with Persephone, maybe I’ll be able to sleep if I can see that she’s alright.” The adjutant sighed as she began to walk away, a small sense of amusement flickering in her as she saw the way Shalom re-affixed her mask the moment the words slipped from her lips, a sure sign of her hiding her annoyance at the words.

“Give her my regards and tell Coquelic to get some sleep as well, some of her Flowers can fill in for her.” Shalom spoke up as she turned and began to walk away, though her steps were halted as she heard the Adjutant call out to her once more.

“Shalom.” Nightingale said, pausing as she looked over her shoulder at the woman behind her. “I know that you have some way of making sure that none of this will reach Persephone, that nothing you, Langley and Chameleon have done will reach her, hell maybe you even have a way of making the Sinners forget the things you’ve done, or at least keep quiet about them.”

Shalom said nothing, her silence being all the answer Nightingale needed before she turned her head and spoke up once more.

“You can trust Wynn, she’ll do everything she can to help keep Persephone safe, just don’t make her get her hands too dirty…she’s got too good of a heart for the kind of things you and the others have done.” Shalom nodded slightly at the words, already aware of the gentle heart the young woman possessed, something which reminded her of her Christina, and as such endeared her to the Hush in its own way.

“Shalom…Hush…” Nightingale continued, pausing for a moment as she took a deep breath before she continued-

“Give them Hell.”

The silence that enveloped the hall was all the answer she needed, the adjutant continuing her walk away as The Hush gazed over her shoulder at her, lips pulled into a thin frown as she made adjustments to her mental profile of the woman for just a moment before she resumed her own walk.

Perhaps there was hope for the Adjutant to become a truly worthy aid to the Chief afterall, but that was something she could ruminate over later on, for now she allowed for her mask to firmly fall into place and for the mindset of The Hush to overtake that of Shalom as she headed off to continue her work. 

Though, before she let that fledgling humanity, so long ago lost and so recently regained, slip away she allowed herself one last emotional thought, accompanied by a small chuckle as she opened the door to see Langley looking over her terminal as Chameleon cleaned her glasses and Rahu looked up at her. 

‘Ah, the things we do for love.’

Fin.

Author’s Note: Well, here we are everyone. We hope you enjoyed this merry mess of a chapter and that it lived up to the standard we have set for this fic. 

We apologize beforehand if it is not up to par with our previous chapters or if it has made any of you uncomfortable in reading it, admittedly this chapter took us quite a while to do as we had to try and get into the mindset of what someone like Shalom would do when angered, a task which is exceptionally difficult given not only her complex nature but also the state of her sense of humanity and morality, or rather her budding sense thereof. 

Part of us feels we failed to deliver simply by not being able to adequately reflect our own take on the dreaded Hush and how she has changed for both better and worse in the setting of this fic, that being her growing morality and humanity being mirrored by her growing attachment and fixation on Persephone and her willingness to do truly horrible things to protect her and the rest of those she loves. 

In such a verse we felt it easier to explore her anger, and the ramifications of earning it, from both the point of view of the recipient of said anger, and then end with the point of view of Shalom herself as she thinks over what she did and why she did it.

Please feel free to let us know what we did wrong and how we could improve in the comments below, as like we said this one was a tough one to write for the reasons listed above and several more, among them being this chapter taking a radically different approach than what we originally had in mind for it. 

With all of that said, stay safe and take care all.

[nomorefstogive]

After being sent to a near eldritch land a young man and his psychopathic maid/assistant try to carve out their own home amidst local politics, corruption, and an eldritch evil that wants to corrupt the world, and that is when their unhealthy relationship is not drowning in sexual tension.

@2broschlininahotub @sinsmockingbird

Writers, tell me about your story in the dumbest way possible

I’ll go first:

Superhero princesses save the world with the help of that one straight white guy who’s just happy to be here, couldn’t have done it without the fortune of a white woman defying all the odds by deciding against a gender reveal party

[nomorefstogive]

I got Dream Walker, but I could not figure out how to share the image on this page lol.

That said, I am tagging @purpleberiii @servalisms @prisoner-of-sin and @sinsmockingbird I hope that is allowed lol.

hai fwendz ! ໒꒰ྀི ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ྀིა i came across dis supa personality test 'n thought it was supa cute ♡ ! !

no pressure tags ! : @neuvistar @13curses @pileofmush @cubffections @femivi

@mysicklove-main @angelsrcute @pastelle-rabbit @kaeinvy @getonite

@nantoji @ivyieka @gojoest-main @kentoangel @y2kuromi

@supersoniii @yngxing @sleepyqinfei @atsumou @reaveh

@44st4rs @candy69gurl @moechies @veraiism + any1 else who wants 2 join ! ໒꒰ྀི ´͈ ᵕ  ͈ ꒱ྀི১

( posting frm m' sideblog, main is @/yuutx )

[nomorefstogive]

Through Love, Perfection. r/PrimarchGF and Female Primarch AU inspired story.

Hello all, this is a ficlet I made recently that I thought I would share here, I copy pasted it from the word doc hence the author's notes and such, that said please enjoy and let me know what you think of this mess of an idea.

P.S. Muse is the fan name given to female Fulgrim's lover by the community at r/PrimarchGF. I have gone ahead and made them gender neutral for this fic, though I might make them female in future ones.

Author’s Note: Well, this is certainly a surprise, we have to admit that we never thought the day would come when we would write for the 40k fandom as, despite our own fondness for the setting, we lack an enormous amount of knowledge on it and simply did not know where to start with ideas for it.

And then we saw a most interesting post on the r/GrimDank Subreddit, a post that  opened doors to vistas untouched and undreamdt of by us, each one bringing forth more and more ideas as we watched a new setting grow. 

Ladies, gentlemen, non-gendered individuals, those between, and all those others, we welcome you one and all to our first fic for the PrimarchGF AU!

Created by the wonderful community of the namesake subreddit, after we began to grow a little too large to be contained on r/GrimDank, and with the foundations of it having been laid down by the wonderfully talented u/Sweet_Older-Sister, this is a setting that has such potential for angst and wholesomeness, that we would be foolish to not throw our hat into the ring. 

This particular ficlet, is inspired by the reddit post found at https://www.reddit.com/r/Grimdank/comments/1cr6hfl/it_would_work_and_you_know_it/ made by: AAABIXIX. All credit to this idea goes to them, though I feel my own take on it is vastly different than what they, or myself from when I initially thought of it, had in mind.

We also have to thank the community of the PrimarchGF Subreddit and of Cryptek-01, who has gathered a list of the communities names, for the names used for the female Primarchs, link to post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/comments/1cypo6g/i_made_a_list_of_names_for_femprimarchs_and_their/

Yet, as with all our tales, it seems that it has a mind of its own, what started as a simple tale of vanity being both bane and hero, became something else entirely, and while we are yet confused as to how we got here, we hope you all enjoy this mess of a tale.

That said, we feel we should make clear that we are quite inexperienced with the characters of 40k, at least in terms of writing their personalities and such, and so we have given our own twist to some of them in this tale. 

Similarly, we have also taken the liberty of altering the timeline, and editing the events that took place across said timeline to better fit with the image present within our mind for the setting of this short tale.

If such heavy OOCness and AU disturbs your reading experience we apologize, and hope that you at least take a quick look at the r/PrimarchGF subreddit and at its illustrious prophetess’ profile, please go and show her some love my friends she deserves it for blessing us with this. 

If you are yet here, and have steeled yourself for whatever form of atrocity against literature it is that we have written, then we thank you for giving us a chance and hope you enjoy our little tale of-

Through Love, Perfection. 

TW for Implied Sexual content and mentions of blood and gore, along with a few mentions of violent thoughts. I think that is all.

“In All Things, Perfection.” Thus was the Creed of the Empress's Daughters, and of the Matriarch who led them forth across the stars to fulfill the great vision her mother had shown to her children once all had been gathered and their crusade readied, to usher forth a perfect golden age for mankind once more. 

Yet this creed did not just extent to the fields of war, upon which they left tableau’s of horror and vistas of carnage of such grandeur that none could deny that their talents in war were of sublime status, but also to all other such things that their Matriarch had taught them.

Poetry, sculpture, painting, dance, singing, it was easier to list a field within which the Matriarch of the Empress’s Daughters did not excel, and which she had taught her children to similarly excel, the Phoenician having guided her progeny to such a degree that were one not to see them in their armor, or the sanguine wake left behind them, they would be scarce to believe such marvelous artisans were instruments of hellish carnage.  

Yet, for all that she aspired to perfection ever did it elude her reaching hands, slipping free as an oil coated serpent, stalling but long enough to mock her with its flickering forked tongue before once more eluding her despite how hard she had pursued it. 

‘Never enough, always better, always better, it could always be better’, such were the thoughts that echoed within her head near to every hour of each day, mocking her with coy and pompous voices that drove her ever forward, desperate to at last achieve that which had eluded her.

And perhaps, in another, much darker timeline, it would have been that which had lead to her fall from grace and descent into wanton hedonism and debauchery, her mind warping and being rent asunder under the seductive whispers of the servants of Chaos. 

Yet, not in this one. 

For as she rose from her bed, skin bare of cover but the bites and scratches that she had willed to not heal for she wished to relish in their delightful aches and stings a bit longer, the saint mix of painful pleasure being enough to help her awaken swiftly as she sat about her preparations for what was to come. 

Below the great fleet that was her children’s armada, there laid a world that they had recently brought back into the fold of the Imperium, no blood having need be shed as the people below, long alone and afraid, had welcomed them as heroes and saviors, having rid them of long standing oppressors of the nearby worlds before their arrival.

And thus they had brought the world into the fold much sooner than they had expected to, indeed, they had anticipated much steeper resistance given the neighboring worlds own acts of futile rebellion, though they were not complaining for now they not only had time to rest and relax before they resumed their campaign, but also to indulge in celebrations due to commence the next day. 

So it was that across the ships that made up their fleet, not only were preparations for their next push forward commencing, but so were preparations for the celebration to come as the Astartes chose their outfits and and cosmetics for the party, or relaxed and allowed for themselves to indulge in their arts for a while before they had to depart to the world below and then forward once more. 

With fingers more dexterous than one would assume given their size, and an equally startling silence, the Phoenician opened the great dark wooden wardrobe in which she had carefully arranged a pair of clothes for the celebration to come, looking over them and making certain that they were in immaculate condition.

Upon her satisfaction of their status of being free of flaw, Fulgrim closed the doors to her dresser and turned towards her vanity, swiftly and silently striding towards it as she looked over the gathered cosmetic items and jewelry, each perfectly arranged and neatly ordered for their usage in the coming days. 

Everything was prepared, their clothes were selected and sealed up such that they would not acquire any wrinkles before the day of the celebration on the planet below them, cosmetics and jewelry neatly ordered, and yet still…

Even as she looked over the clothes that she had so meticulously selected, the makeup designed to make her already striking features even more radiant, and the jewelry meant to make her and her other half as radiant as the stars, she could still feel as though something was missing.

A sigh slipped past her lips as she brought her hand to her forehead, fingers gently kneading the skin as she closed her eyes and tried to focus on what it was that would complete their outfits, what it was that would make them perfect. 

Violet eyes slowly opened, and raked over the room, pausing but to alight with a warm glow of joy as she saw her darling’s form concealed by blankets and pillows laying on their bed, no doubt yet still worn out from their actions the night previous.

Unbidden, a chuckle slipped past her lips as the image of her lover, adorned with bites and bruises looking up at her with a pouting face as they weakly beat on her chest with their hands.

“You said…my turn to top…” Her hand had to cover her lips to prevent her chuckles from growing in volume as she recalled the absolutely adorable way her lover had tried and failed to convince her to let them continue so they could have their chance on top even as they drifted off to sleep beneath her as she watched with smug delight.

She truly had meant to let them be on top, but they were just so adorable as they writhed beneath her, how could she have passed up the opportunity to savor their expressions, their taste, their-

Fulgrim shook her head, while normally she would take the chance to revel in the memories of last night, and perhaps to give her lover something beautiful to wake up to as her moans brought them into wakefulness and into her arms, she yet still felt that nagging sensation and so she instead allowed her gaze to wander once more. 

Faintly, she felt a sensation, as though a gentle caress upon her cheek by a silken hand unseen, that bid her to turn to look at the display case that rested across the room from her, and the treasure held within it.

A prize won through blood and tears and misery, and one that she had taken quite the fancy to at first sight, even if her darling disagreed with her on its beauty, claiming that it clashed horribly with her armor and that the flaming blade she had forged with Ferrus long ago made her much more radiant, indeed it was because of that disagreement, and the threat of involuntary abstinence for several weeks, that she had not taken to wearing the blade as she had wished. 

Of course, there was reason beyond mere vanity that lent credence to her darling’s desire for her to avoid the blade, as not only was it of Xeno origin, but it also gave off a sensation that, while to her was appealing, was to her beloved revolting, and thus her caution on the matter. 

In truth, she had meant to have it sealed in the storage bay, but she had decided that it was safest where she could see it, no one could get into her chambers without her or her Muse knowing, and even if they did, they would find quite the marvelous surprise awaiting them when they did open the container without the proper key.

Something she had no interest in contending with, as she unconsciously began to open  the container and reach out her hand, a part of her yearn, begging her in silent desperation, to touch the hilt of the sword, to give in to that hypnotic allure that so sweetly beckoned her to-

“What did I say would happen if you touched that sword before it got looked at?” The Matriarch of the Empress’s Children jolted slightly at the voice that came from the corner of the room, her hand recoiling from the case she had been reaching for as eyes the color of violet lightning turning to alight upon the form that sat upon the bed, swaddled in blankets of silken cloth and rich fur, and surrounded by plush pillows easily double the length of their body as they leaned against the headboard of the titanic bed. 

The Matriarch's lips curled up into a smile as she saw her Muse adjusting themselves ever so slightly, a low groan slipping from their lips as they did so, eyes keen beyond all form of human understanding easily able to pierce through the shadows that concealed their face from the blankets draped over them and to meet the pair of rather tired looking eyes that stared back at her with no small amount of irritation present.

She could not help but allow her smile to grow a little bit as she recalled exactly why it was that her other half was so weary and covering themself in their blankets to ward off the chill of her room, and more importantly gazing at her with such a delicious look upon their face. 

Truly it was no fault of hers that her lover was so breathtaking, and what kind of connoisseur of art would she be if she did not show such a marvelous piece of artwork the reverence it was due as she laid mark upon mark of affirmation and adoration upon her lover’s bare form until no longer could they deny their own beauty and worth. 

So deep was the Matriarch's recollection of the previous evening’s events, or perhaps it had been the entire day, neither of them could reliably tell and none of the Matriarch’s daughters would dare to interrupt them during a moment of passion unless it was absolutely necessary, several bolter rounds and a flaming sword flung at them the first and only time they had done so insuring their privacy from then on, that she missed her lover reiterating their question to her several times.

Beneath the cloak of silk, fur, and cloth eyes narrowed in irritation as once more the Muse of the Phoenician repeated their query to their lover, taking acute notice of the both the absence of a forthcoming reply and of just where it was that their lover’s eyes were lingering on as they calmly took a deep breath before-

“Fulgrim.” 

They called out again, this time their tone was coated in both no small amount of exasperation, a faint undercurrent of irritation further making clear their feelings on the matter of their lover having lost herself to her own fantasies as opposed to answering them.

The Matriarch felt a not so small chill run down her spine, mind racing as she tried to  recall just what it was her lover had said, though much to her despair there came no light of clarity or spark of realization, something which her lover quickly registered as well as they began to shift and stir.

The Matriarch could not stop herself from licking her lips at the scene of her lover wearing silken blankets as a gown to cover themself as they began to stride towards her, their movements slow and, at least to the Matriarch, ominous in their approach, as the formation of a thunder head afore a storm, or the faintest hum of wrongness that heralded the Materium and Immaterium being rent asunder as Chaos sallied forth to assault them once more.

As bare feet glided delicately across the richly carpeted floor, the silken sheets shifting and swaying in a spectral breeze, the delicate motions of silk upon bare skin making Fulgrim swallow once more as she watched with dreadful anticipation as her lover drew near, each second an eternity as her lover’s eyes met her own with veiled intentions that made the Matriarch’s heart thunder. 

The thundering of her heart and the racing of her blood did not to drown out the siren song of silken sin that caressed her ears as her lover at last drew to stand before her, barely a third of the towering Matriarch’s height and yet somehow managing to project such a presence that even she, the most beautiful and most might Phoenician, felt as though it were her that was the smaller of the pair.

With hands so impossibly small in comparison to her own that barely could the delicate fingers wrap around but two of her fingers, let alone her entire hand, her lover gripped her hands and directed them to where they belonged, one to their shoulder and one to their hip as they bid her lean down such that their lips could meet, the Muse assuming the role of conductor and director of this intimate dance for several moments, lasting far longer than a normal mortal should have been able to without breaking for breath before they at last parted.

Eyes of violet and eyes concealed in shade both alighted on the thin strand of saliva that linked their lips for but the briefest of moments before it parted, the pair taking a moment to regain themselves before their gazes met once more, Fulgrim’s apologetic and her Muse’s own somewhat calmed in their irritation, though yet still narrowed.

“Apologies darling, I lost myself in marveling at the wonder befo-” Fulgrim found her words cut off as a hand lifted to place itself against her face, index finger gently coming to rest against her lips in a gesture of silence, shadowed eyes narrowing further as the Matriarch was unable to fight her urge to take the tip of the finger into her lips and begin to suckle upon it as her lover heaved a sigh before speaking.

“Why is it that everything that comes out of your mouth is either flirtatious or horribly annoying dear?” The Muse murmured to themself in question, the towering Matriarch merely smirking once more at the query as she indulged herself in suckling on the finger between her lips  for a moment longer before she released it as she pulled her lover close to her, the hands not resting on each others hips moving to intertwine as they looked into one another’s eyes. 

“I don’t hear you complaining, my dear.” The Phoenician said as her smirk turned to a smile as she saw her lover sigh once more, the corners of their own lips curling up into a small smile of their own as they leaned in to rest their forehead against their lovers own, their eyes drifting shut for several moments as the pair basked in the silent affirmation of their bond. 

Yet, even as she held the one so dear to her oh so close, humming a melodious if nonsensical tune low in her throat as she idly swayed along with her darling Muse, their came to the Phoenician a sensation of something missing, a nagging and itching sensation that made her feel no small amount of unease, though she allowed none of it to permeate through her as she held her love close. 

It would not do to frighten her Muse, least of all over what could more than likely be nothing but her forgetting something once again, something she felt had begun to do more commonly of late…hmm…perhaps she should consider taking some time off and taking her lover to visit one of the worlds in the Imperium, she had heard that one was soon to be celebrating a festival of some kind, surely she cou-

“If you keep thinking so hard, you’re going to hurt yourself and miss the party tomorrow my love.” Fulgrim sighed as she opened her eyes to look at her lover, faux hurt coloring her face for a moment as she watched her lover arch and eyebrow at her, their gaze daring her to speak up, a dare she could not possibly turn down.

“Oh? But if I get hurt then surely you would stay with me my Muse. Afterall, who would be there to nurse me back to health if not you my dear?” Fulgrim asked her lover with a delicate and pleading tone, eyes wide and innocent, or at least as innocent as she could make them, though her lover only blinked at the scene before them before the leveled an expression as flat as the plains her sister had taken to riding with her children and lover across of late.

“Hmm, perhaps I should ask Bile to take a look at you after all. If you think I am going to miss watching your sisters making fools of themselves as they try to court their lovers, then you are madder than those fools who think Rus is the dominant one in her relationship.” The Muse could not stop the low chuckle that slipped past their lips as they saw Fulgrim look at them with a faintly betrayed expression on her face, though soon she joined them in their chuckling as she thought of the spectacles that were sure to occur at the party to come.

Indeed she could not fault them for wishing to not miss the spectacles to come, especially given the whispers she had heard regarding the disaster that was Regalia Dorn being drug their by her own lover, well that and her Muse had a valid point regarding her wild sister, the woman wore a damn collar under her armor wherever she went for their Mother’s sake! 

Soon it was that their chuckles tapered off into a comfortable silence as the pair leaned against one another in silence, unconsciously moving to rest their foreheads against one another in a somewhat awkward pose, though neither cared for how they looked so long as they could enjoy the feeling of one another's warmth.

Yet eventually there came the time when the Muse pulled back with a low sigh once more slipping past their lips, Fulgrim letting out a low whimper as she chased them once more, only to be halted by a finger resting itself against her forehead as her lover spoke up once more. 

“And speaking of the party, I thought you were going to be dressing to impress, especially given how Ferrus has been boasting about the beauty of the set of armor her assistant and her have forged. Or have you decided to take pity on your sister and allow her this victory my love?” The words came with a slightly teasing lilt to them, though there was an underlying seriousness to the words that lent weight enough to them for the Matriarch to focus on them. 

 The words prompted Fulgrim to blink at her lover in confusion as she turned to look over her attire once more in the mirror, standing to her full height as she pulled her lover against her as she pictured what they would look like at the gala.

“I don’t understand darling. With what I have in mind you and I will certainly be the ones to steal the show, assuming Mother does not deign to show up.” The Pheonician said as she mentally pictured the attire she had in mind over her lover, a perfect match for her own attire, and one that she had enjoyed the challenge of making, especially given that it had one the approval of the critic that her Muse could be. 

Indeed, it was that critical nature that lead her to lending her ears to her lover’s words, the very nature that had drawn her to them when they had critiqued one of her works before her as her daughters watched on in shock at the scene of the fragile mortal critiquing their perfectionist mother’s work to her own face. 

They had expected her to snap at them, to yell and curse or draw her blade and decapitate them, and instead had been rewarded with the sight of their mother asking for the counsel of the smaller figure in regards to how to improve her next work, something which had heralded the start of their relationship. 

And now she once more welcomed their judgment, though she had to bite down the urge to snap at them, something which made her brow furrow further, she must be more stressed than she had previously thought. 

‘Yes,’ Fulgrim thought to herself. ‘Once this gala is done, we'll take some time off to rest and unwind, maybe we’ll even be able to see that play we have been looking at, I’ll have tickets for the three of…no two of us booked.’ A hand came to rest upon her brow as she heaved another sigh, yes a break would do her good, especially if she was starting to think like that. 

Perhaps she should corner Sanguinia, Volkana, and Magna and ask them their counsel on just what it was that could be plaguing her, the three had long proven themselves the most adept at helping their sisters find what it was that was plaguing them in terms of emotions and thoughts. 

“Fulgrim!” The uncharacteristically sharp tone of her Muse’s voice caused the Matriarch to jolt once more, her head shaking from side to side as she re-focused herself on the present and her lover, who was now gazing at her with open concern on their face.

“Sorry dear, my mind wandered for a moment.” The Matriarch said as she offered her lover a smile, trying to reassure them and herself at the same time, the unease she had been feeling rapidly vanishing as she took in the concern and care in her lover’s eyes as they reached up and delicately laid their hand against her cheek.

“That…has been happening too much of late.” Her Muse narrowed their eyes at her as they gently rubbed their thumb against her cheek for several moments before they closed their own eyes and offered up a weary sigh as they shook their head and took a moment to compose themself before speaking up once more. 

“Once this is done we’re taking vacation, our children can handle any matters that come up, and if it comes to it Ferrus and her brats owe us enough favors that we could have them take over any campaigns that crop up while we are off for months to come.” Fulgrim could not stop a chuckle from slipping past her lips at the last bit of her lover’s statement as she leaned down to rest her forehead against her lover’s once more, sighing as her Muse let out a low hum as the pair allowed their eyes to drift shut for a moment before they parted once more. 

“I was just considering the same thing my dear, we could visit your home world and see what new travesties they have allowed into their ‘Grand Gallery’ surely it would be an entertaining visit.” Fulgrim could not stop herself from chuckling once more as her lover narrowed her eyes at her in a scathing glare at the remark about both her homeworld and their gallery.

“I hope for your sake my dear,” Fulgrim could not stop the shiver that ran down her at the delicious sensations that hearing that voice turn from gentle silk to a frigid whip crack, “that you solely mean my coworkers allowed travesties into the gallery, I would hate to have to discipline you otherwise.” 

Fulgrim could not stop the smile that began to form on her face as she looked down at the narrowed glare her lover was giving her, a gaze of such frigid sharpness that it would drive any normal being to quake in unease and dread, she had even seen it make her daughters feel unease and that was no small feat, that left a shudder of desire wracking her frame. 

Though soon it was that the smile that adorned the Matriarch’s face twisted in a look of faux hurt as her lover reached up to flick her forehead as their own lips curled into a slightly vengeful smirk as they spoke up once more.

“Besides, idiots they may have been, and likely still are, at least they know what style is, something you seem to have forgotten my dear.” Fulgrim pouted at her lover’s words as she locked eyes with her, noting the way her lover let their gaze travel from her violet eyes to the blade that rested on the stand beside her mirror, the target of her comment being readily apparent. 

“Oh? And what does that mean, my Muse?” Fulgrim spoke up, her tone much sharper and colder than she had any intention of allowing it to be, though it seemed to do not to her lover but make their lips purse into a thin frown as their eyes narrowed into a frigid glare for several moment before they sighed and spoke up. 

“Look in the mirror, take a decent look at what you have in mind for tomorrow,” Fulgrim did so, her eyes closing slightly as she pictured the rich violet and cream colored dress she would wear, adorned with the sapphire and golden filigree designs she had spent so long designing, and the dark sapphire and cream colored clothing of her lover that they had both worked on for so long. 

Try as she might, she could not picture what it was that was making her lover so concerned for the coming gala, at least that was until her lover once more spoke up to her as they walked off towards their closet and began to rummage through it.

“You’re picturing the clothing, the cosmetics and jewelry correct? Likely imagining how you would look with that tasteless piece of metal at your side, again a flush of unbidden irritation that made the Matriarch have to bite her lip to still her tongue, but why should you settle for a simple metal blade when you could show off something like this…Oh, and happy early anniversary my love.” 

Her Muse finished their statement as they pulled out a rather lengthy container that had been kept concealed in the depths of their closet, with both hands, they pulled out what appeared to be the base of a blade, the pommel a sapphire colored gem adorned with specks of silver and violet within it, the grip adorned with cream colored leather, each strand of the binding having been carefully inscribed with designs such that when layered together upon the finished product they gave the appearance of thunderbolts striking a sapphire sea that laid above the jeweled pommel. 

Above the leather grip there was the guard of the blade, granted it was a rather unconventional one, not due to it being styled to resemble a pair of great wings made out of silver and gold with violets and sapphires carefully carved to form elegant sloping rings and bands, alongside of being used as highlights for the many feathers upon the great wings.

But rather the guards was odd, for the fact that its center most portion was shaped to resemble the form of the Muse themself, the great wings erupting from their back, their form being adorned with minute carvings and etching to make it as lifelike as possible, their lips spread into a loving smile that would gaze up at the women who wielded the blade. 

And as for the blade itself, which, while upon first glance appeared to be already a masterwork of platinum and silver colored metal, each inch engraved with ornate designs and flowing markings, though of a far too slender a shape for such a sized hilt, there was yet one other facet to cement its wonder in those that beheld it.

It took but the faintest caress upon a hidden mechanism for their to come a humming and crackling sound, one that soon grew in intensity to such an extent that it would be hard to think, and if that was not enough than the brilliant radiance that came forth in the shape of a near blinding light of violet and sapphire electricity that formed into a blade of thunder and lightning that enveloped the smaller metal blade, the electricity triggering hidden mechanisms forged by Petra herself at their behest which made the blade hum and vibrate at such a frequency that not could stop the blade once it was swung.

For a moment longer the Muse gazed upon the blade, their lips curling upwards into a smile as they disabled the lightning of the blade as they turned to present the weapon to Fulgrim, a low chuckle leaving their lips as they saw the Matriarch gape in slight shock at what was being presented to her. 

“This is-!” Fulgrim said nothing more as she immediately devoted all of her attention to the blade being held out to her, eyes wide and hungering as she ravenously took in all of the details of the weapon she was being presented with, her heart beginning to hammer as her thoughts raced at the masterwork she was being presented with.

“You would not believe how hard it was to make that thing without you figuring it out, even with so many of us working on it.” Their words made Fulgrim look at them in silent question as they smiled before they continued. 

“I had each of your sisters help me with it, Petra, Hestia, Ferrus, helped with forging it, then Petra and Ferrus made the motors and engines for the lightning while Hathor, Aurelia, and oddly enough Kassandra and Morrigan helped with the more intricate designs on the leather and carvings on it…their lovers largely just provided moral support and ideas for them.” Fulgrim’s lips had already parted into a gape of shock before her lover continued, their own lips having widened into a smile as they continued. 

“The materials were located by Magna and Juno, and then they were retrieved by Freya, Alakhi, Volkana, and Corra, she was the one to provide the jewel for the pommel, while Magna and Aurelia blessed the sword with some rather powerful enchantments and wards to make sure no one but us can touch it and that is would not dull or rust.” And now her Muse’s smile reached blinding proportions as they continued yet again.

“Lastly, we had Atlanta stress test it by sparring with Freya, Morrigan, Leona, Regalia, and Cora to see if their differing styles would damage it, while the Twins helped with coming up with a way of hiding it from you, they were the ones running interference for most of the time we were making it, and when they weren't Sanguinia was, she is also the one who came up with the idea of the angel motif for the guard.” Her Muse finished, their own eyes shining with mirthful delight as they saw their lover’s silent gape as she looked over the blade she had been presented with.

With a trembling hand, the Matriarch reached out and gently plucked the blade from their hand, the instant her hand wrapped around the grip of the blade there came forth, unseen by the pair, the faintest hint of golden wisps of light that ever so softly brushed against her skin, bringing forth a sensation of calm and clarity that drove away the unseen hands groping at the Matriarchs essence.

Though neither saw this, for they were too enveloped in the moment as the Muse stared into her lover’s eyes, a low chuckle slipping past their lips as they reached out their hand and delicately wiped away the tears, smiling as Fulgrim looked up at them from where she had been inspecting the blade.

“I…I have…I think I need to sit down.” Fulgrim finished as she moved over to their shared bed, sitting down on it as she continued to look over the blade that her lover had presented to her as her mind raced with thoughts as she took in the weapon she held, her hand softly caressing the angel design on the guard for several moments before she lifted her head to look at her lover.

Her vision slightly blurry as she tried to choke out something, anything to say, only for nothing but a low whine to come out as her lover approached her, swaying their hips to the sides as they allowed for their cloak of blankets to fall and reveal their bare form. 

With a smirk on their face, the Muse moved towards Fulgrim, prompting the Matriarch to set her new found sword on a nearby night stand as her Muse straddled her lap, their eyes shining with delight as they saw the Phoenician look at them with tears in her eyes and a slight quiver to her lips. 

“What do you think my love? Not only does it go wonderfully with your dress, but you can also show it off to everyone else and boast about your lover and your sister's talents.” Her Muse leaned in once more, gently pulling Fulgrim down as they allowed their lips to delicately graze her ear, lightly blowing into it before they continued.

“Well, what’s your answer my love? That piece of metal that clashes with your attire, or something that shows off the talents of those who love you and compliments your attire perfectly, which one do you feel like taking now?” The Muse knew what answer they would receive, especially when they felt Fulgrim gently lay her hands on their hips. 

For a moment, Fulgrim’s gaze flickered over to the Laer Blade, the pull normally tugging at her mind gone and allowing her to truly look at it, seeing the blade for the tasteless piece of sharpened metal that her lover had claimed it to be.

So her choice was already made when she allowed her gaze to flicker to the sword she had been gifted with before she returned her gaze to her lover, a silent nod giving her answer as her lover smiled in triumph as they leaned down to seize her lips with their own.

As hands began to wander, and lips hungrily devoured one another once more, the Muse allowed themself to smile as they thought of the faces of not only the poor fools that would be present at the Gala, but also of their homeworld's artisans when they saw a genuine masterpiece during their visit.

‘Oh yes,’ They thought as they felt their lover shift to be laying on her back as she pulled them atop her, hungrily pawing at their bare flesh, ‘we’ll show them what real beauty is.’ And with that last thought, they allowed themself to cease thinking as they indulged in their shared passion with their lover. 

Line Break

The day of the Gala was, as with any celebration that Fulgrim and her legion were involved with, a day of semi-ordered madness and chaos across the entirety of the legion as the Astartes raced to and fro as they tried to make themselves ready for the celebration, their desire to one-up their fellow Astartes matched but by their desire to impress their mother and her lover. 

It was amidst this scene of organized chaos that a particular example of lunacy took place, for the bedchambers of the Matriarch could be best likened to being caught within the embrace of a mad tempest as Fulgrim and her liver dashed to and fro to make sure they were properly prepared for the party to come, the pair having slightly overslept due to the previous day’s activities. 

“Damnit, where did I put my necklace!?” The Muse called out from where they were busy searching through each of the drawers and shelves they could while Fulgrim herself was putting on her makeup, watching the scene out of the corner of her eye. 

“Were you wearing it yesterday?” The Matriarch asked her lover as she finished placing her lipstick on, her gaze flickering over to where her make-up kit lay as she began to search for her eye-liner, though she paused when she noticed something out of-

“Aha!” Her darling called out from behind her as they at last spotted their platinum and sapphire necklace…atop a cabinet that was much too tall for them to reach, the sight making their left eye twitch as they tried to jump up to reach the chain, only to fail as they missed the chain by several inches. 

“Could you help me get this damn thing when you’re done?” The Muse called out as they diverted their attention from their necklace and towards getting the last of their attire on, though they did pause when they realized that Fulgrim had not answered them.

The Muse lifted their head to see their lover looking over her cabinets and displays with a confused look upon her face, her brow furrowed as she seemed to be attempting to locate something for several moments before they called out once more and caused her to jolt her awake from her reverie.

“What’s wrong?” They asked of her as they began to put on the last few articles of clothing that Fulgrim had laid out for them as they awaited their lover’s reply, a low curse slipping past their lips as they messed up a knot for one of their shoes and had to redo it. 

“Did you move that sword from Laer? I was going to have it sent to mother, but I can’t find it.” Fulgrim asked her liver as she glanced about in confusion, a sensation at the back of her mind telling her to search for it, to rend the room asunder to recover it, yet the feeling was fading with each passing second, diminishing in the time it took for her lover to offer her a confused look before they spoke up. 

“My love, I wouldn’t have touched that damn thing if you had begged me on your hands and knees. I have standards after all.” Fulgrim rolled her eyes even as a fond smile crossed her face at her dear’s usual demeanor, the Matriarch shaking her head slightly as she quipped back to her lover.

“Standards? You? Didn’t you tell me that you would have to abandon those when we started dating my love?” Fulgrim could not stop herself from chuckling at the end of her reply as she recalled the thoroughly dumbfounded looks on the faces of those around them, well most of them as Ferrus had been too busy laughing herself into near unconsciousness as her own lover doubled over beside her.

“I did, and I stand by that I have had to drop many of them, such as my standards for getting enough sleep to awaken on time for something,” her Muse gave her a faux glare as their lips twitched upwards as they continued, “and also my standard for not waking up sore and covered in bruises and bites my dear.” 

Fulgrim could not stop the laugh that slipped past her lips as she pushed aside the nagging sensation in her mind as she rose to her feet and approached her lover, smiling as she saw them narrow their eyes at her with suspicion, already planning any and all methods of avoiding her doing something that would make them any later than they would already likely be if the clamor breaking out across the ship was any indication. 

Though the Muse found themself pleasantly surprised as their lover merely reached up and pulled their necklace from where it rested atop the cabinet, slowly striding towards them as the Muse reached out their hand for their necklace, only to be denied as Fulgrim held it out of their reach with a smirk on her face.

“Let me my dear,” Fulgrim said, a chuckle slipping past her lips as her lover once more narrowed their eyes at her wariness coming alight for several seconds before they offered a nod to the Matriarch, lifting up their hair so that she could clip the necklace on.

They realized their mistake the moment they saw Fulgrim’s eyes gleaming with mirth, her lips curling ever so slightly as she mouthed the words ‘Payback dear,’ to them as she leaned in and-.

“Fulgrim, don’t you-!” Their words were cut off as the Matriarch latched her lips onto their neck, targeting an area that would be concealed by their attire, provided it did not shift enough, as she began to suckle and nibble on the skin, her actions prompting a low moan and a shudder of pleasure to rack her lover’s frame as their hands, that had been trying to push her away, instead reached up to entangle themselves in her hair and pull her in-

Fulgrim pulled back, smirking as she heard a low whine slip from her lover’s lips, both at being denied further pleasure and at the Phoenician's actions, their eyes narrowing into a slightly clouded glare even as they pouted up at her. 

Chuckling once more, Fulgrim placed their necklace on them before she turned to head back to her vanity and finish her own preparations, her lover’s murmurs of promises of vengeance for her unbidden attack upon their neck only serving to make her smile and chuckle, already anticipating what was to come both at the party and afterwards. 

Though, she still wished she knew what became of that sword. Perhaps it had been knocked from its perch during her and her Muse’s actions last night, struck by some article of clothing or knocked down when their passions became such that they were tackling one another across the room and taking one another upon each surface they could. 

Idly she shrugged to herself, she could search for it when they returned from the party, the worst case scenario being that she would have to find another gift for her mother and that she might one day find it collecting dust under a piece of furniture. 

Still, as she finished putting on the last of her makeup, all while being given a gaze that promised vengeance by her Muse, she could not shake the feeling that something, some great and irrevocable change had occurred, yet for the life of her she could not figure out what it was.

‘A concern for another day,’ She thought to herself as she rose to her feet, her new sword finding its place at her side as she outstretched her arm to her lover, watching with a smirk as they yet glared at her as they took her hand and rose from the bed to walk with her.

She chuckled to herself as she saw her Muse fidgeting ever so slightly as they adjusted their clothes to try and hide the mark she had left upon them, already aware that the Matriarch would not let them cover it with concealer, her pride at showing off such a mark to others, and her lover’s own pride at it being shown off as well, preventing such an act. 

“Come my dear, let’s make sure everyone else is ready.” Fulgrim said as the pair left their chambers and began to wander down to the shuttle bay of the ship, all thoughts of a missing blade soon being swept aside as they began the laborious task of ordering their children and making ready to depart for the celebration taking place on the world below them.

It was as they were waiting for the shuttles to take them down to the planet below that a thought struck Fulgrim, prompting her to turn to where her lover was working with several of their children to try and force some form of make up onto Bile’s face, the Apothecary fighting tooth and nail as they did so as she hurled curse and abuse upon them for their efforts, her lover eventually pulling back with a nod of approval as she motioned for them to let Bile go.

With a withering glare to the team before her, the Apothecary stalked off to seek asylum in the dark corners of the hanger, the Astartes parting to mingle with their sisters as they noted their Mother drawing near to her lover, the Matriarch chuckling as she saw her liver putting her makeup kit back into her purse before she looked at her. 

“I knew she wasn’t going to be wearing any when she was dragged out of her room, so I came prepared.” Her Muse answered her questioning gaze, her words prompting a chuckle from the Matriarch as she met her gaze once more before she asked her the question that had been on her mind for some time. 

“Actually darling, I was more curious as to what it was you offered my sisters to get their help with making this sword, nothing too precious I hope?” Fulgrim found herself surprised as her lover winced slightly at her words, their hands rising to cup their face as they let out a low groan before they let their hand fall to their side as they mumbled something under their breath.

Fulgrim blinked, already she could hear some of her daughters beginning to snicker at what they had just heard, and while she was tempted to join them, she wanted to be absolutely certain as to what it was she had just heard.

“What was that my love? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up.” Fulgrim saw her lover narrow a glare at her for a moment before, for but a fleeting instant, a gleam came to inhabit their eyes, one that Fulgrim had come to both anticipate and dread, a gleam of mischief that typically ended with the words ‘I want to try something new,’ or ‘They wanted my opinion’.

A slight chill ran down Fulgrim’s spine as she looked at her lover, watching as the gleam faded and an exasperated look crossed their face as they spoke up, once more, their words prompting many to choke out chuckles or look at her in incredulous shock. 

“Dating Advice. I had to offer those Ceramite headed fools you call family advice on dating, because apparently them and their daughters are all idiots on the subject, and by the fucking Empress was it fun,” The way she spat the word fun, as though it were the most vile thing she had ever tasted caused chuckles to begin to break out once more, Fulgrim finding herself fighting her own laughter as she looked at her lover.

“Surely it couldn’t have been that bad, right my dear?” Fulgrim asked, watching as her lover went still such that they could have been mistaken for a particularly breathtaking statue of lifelike design beyond anything else, that is if one were not to see the way their eyes shifted to lock directly with Fulgrim’s own, molten wrath blazing within them.

‘Oh dear, I think I made a mistake.’ Fulgrim had time to think before her lover’s lips parted, and a volcano of exasperated vitriol emerged, the gathered Astartes being treated to a front row seat for the cataclysmic eruption alongside of their mother as her Muse snapped. 

“Not that bad? Not that fucking bad!? I had to coach Regalia on how the fucking guide book her daughters got her did not cover everything, oh and turns out no one had ever bothered to explain to her what sex is!” Fulgrim was not the only one to gape at the Muse as they continued on, their hands clenching tightly as their lips spread into a perversion of a smile.

“I had to have Aurelia help me explain what it was to her because everyone else was too busy laughing, then I had to try and get Aurelia to stop helping me before she made Regalia’s head pop from how much blood was rushing to it.” Fulgrim felt the chuckles slipping past her lips at the image that played across her mind, though she felt said laughter slip past her lips in greater quantity as the Muse continued with-

“Then I had to tell Morrigan that maybe the reason her lover is constantly emptying  buckets of perfume on her is because she refuses to bathe, that ended up becoming a fucking hour long argument that only ended when Aurelia gave her that pleading look of hers and convinced her to at least try it and see what happens.” Her Muse’s jaw clenched as they took a deep breath before they resumed, seemingly unaware of the laughter and awe filling the room. 

“Sanguinia, Empress bless that woman, all she needed was advice on how to approach her love and how to broach the topics of her curses to them, that was simple enough. Corva? She had the same issues, though instead of curses she wanted to know how to get more comfortable with physical contact. Hestia, another fairly simple one, she just needed advice on how to stop her love interest from running away every time they see her, preferably without traumatizing them.” The laughter grew greater still, many turning gazes of genuine respect to their Matriarchs lover as they took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm themself before they resumed.

“Aurelia…dear fuck…”The Muse paused for several moments, a thousand mile stare gracing their face as though they were reliving a particularly traumatic experience, their lips moving silently for a few moments longer before Fulgrim;s hand on their shoulder made them look up at her. 

“I think you need to spend some more time with her before she gets her lover…because I don’t think they’ll be leaving their bedroom till the next damn Golden Age starts once the Crusade is done…and bring a notebook…some of her ideas sounded very…interesting.” Fulgrim’s mouth fell into a silent gape of shock, her children joining her for several moments before the Muse seemed to try and shake themself from their stupor by focusing on another subject. 

“Juno, all we really needed was to try and work out how she could approach them and how they could schedule their dates, simple enough. Hathor was pretty much the same, though we also had to figure out how to make the one she wants notice her feelings, not the worst one though it was a challenge.” Here the Muse paused to take a breath, sighing softly for a moment, before they resumed, their eye twitching slightly as they spoke up again.

“Petra really just needs to be honest with her feelings, that’s really all I could offer for advice for her…that and to remember to take off her armor when she tries to do anything with them.” Fulgrim nodded, smiling slightly at the mental image of Petra, sans her armor, trying and failing to flirt with someone, it would be an amusing spectacle to see, hopefully she would get to witness it tonight.

“Ferrus, just needed a reminder that not everyone can endure the heat of a blast furnace like she can…or endure sparks from molten metal hitting them like she can…really she just needs to remember that the one she’s interested in is a lot more fragile than her.” Fulgrim nodded once more, her smile growing softer at the thought of her closest sister finally getting with someone, she would have to send her a gift…hmmm…maybe she could find a copy of her…’educational’ book on intercourse and send it to her, Ferrus could certainly use the material in it for ‘educational purposes’ for when things reached the bedroom…or maybe…

The Muse paused, registering the mischievous glint in their lovers eyes, and while they were tempted to try and quash whatever form of torment she was dreaming up for her sister, she would try and see if she should warn Ferrus later on, for now she had to continue to feed the gossip mill of the Empress’s Daughters as they continued.

“Freya, that was a basket case. First we had to work out that no, you cannot just walk up to someone, hand them a leash and collar and say you are dating now,” Fulgrim’s hand flew to her mouth to muffle her cackles, her daughters trying and failing to follow her example as her lover continued. 

“Then! Then we had to work out that no, you cannot growl at everyone that looks at them before you are even dating, nor can you leave hunting trophies outside their door as gifts, I can only hope that she did not leave some beasts head outside their door beforehand…though…given the look on her face. And don’t even get me started on her asking if it was okay for her to p-ut her scent on their clothes to mark them…I pity them so much.” The Muse sighed as they shook their head, visibly holding back on saying more on the matter as they shifted to another one of her sisters.

“Atlanta…was a surprise, all she really wanted was advice on how to plan out dates with them that don’t involve battle, and on what flowers she should give her Rose,” The incredulous looks they received was enough to make them offer a shrug in response as the Astartes and their Matriarch shared glances of shock and awe with one another. 

“Leona was…not as bad as I thought, really just has to work on working up the nerve to confess and not scaring the hell out of them…or stalking them…Alakhi was pretty simple, she just wanted to know what she should do to make them feel more comfortable around her and not like they had to meet some imaginary standards.” Fulgrim nodded to herself absently, that was about what she expected.

“The Twins…yeah that is a mess of trust issues, fixation, and who knows what else they decided to keep to themselves, the big thing was getting them to admit their feelings to themselves and then try and guide them away from whatever hairbrained plan they came up with to wrangle a confession out of their target…and yes that includes tapping their Vox, assassinating potential rivals,” Fulgrim’s eyes widened as she opened her mouth again, “drugging them to kidnap them, blackmailing potential rivals, framing their target to get them put under their care…the list goes on.” The Muse at last stopped with a tired sigh, taking a moment to catch their breath before resuming. 

“Magna, I’m going to be honest with you if it weren't for her daughters dragging her out of the library I think she would just keep using her warpcraft to spy on her love and not even try and confront them. Anxiety aside, I feel that she won’t really have any issues when she is finally able to come out of her shell…and stop scrying on them constantly…or stalking them with astral projection.” The Muse paused, once more taking a deep breath as they seemed to try and steel themself for what was to come, the slight shudder that wracked their frame as they announced the last name making all of those present gape in shock at them.

“Kassandra…where in the hell do I even…no…you know what, I’m not drunk enough to discuss that Warp Storm, wait till I have a few bottles in me and then try and get that out of me because that…that is something beyond me.” Fulgrim shared in the respect her daughters were directing towards her lover, especially as she saw them seem to collapse in on themself, sagging in exhaustion as they recalled exactly what they had to deal with to get her new sword.

With a smile on her face, Fulgrim walked forward and embraced her lover, chuckling as she felt them go limp and let their head fall against her body, her breasts resting atop their head as they mumbled into her abdomen.

“Your sisters…are exhausting, and not in the good way.” Fulgrim could no longer hold back her laughter at that remark, throwing back her head and laughing merrily at the way her lover sounded, her laughter stopping when she noticed the shuttles arriving as she reached down and lifted her lover up and into her arms. 

“Come on my love, let’s try and bury those bothersome memories with some happier ones.” The Phoenician said as she began to stride towards the shuttles, chuckling to herself once more at the mental images her lover’s words had crafted in her mind, she could already picture the looks that would cross her sisters faces as she-

“Oh, and Fulgrim.” The thoughts of the Matriarch paused as she looked at her lover out of the corner of her eye, mischievous violet eyes watching as her lover looked up at her with a mischievous look of their own, lips curled into a smile that made the Matriarch shudder in unease..

“If they find out that I told you all that information, from you or one of the Astartes, then you will have to make do with your own hand and toys for a month.” Fulgrim went still, her eyes snapping wide open as she gaped at her lover, her daughters having gone similarly still, Eidolon nearly tripping over her own feet as Bile froze in her own tirade against some of her kin, the Apothecaries lips beginning to twitch upwards as she processed what she had just heard.

“You-!” Fulgrim was cut off as her lover lifted up a hand and began to pat her head, a coy smile on their face as they leaned in such that their breath tickled her ear as she purred to her in a tone of satin and sin-

“But, if you can keep it a secret for the whole party, then you can do whatever you want with me tonight, I still have some stress to deal with afterall. What do you say, up for the challenge?” Fulgrim snapped her gaze down to her lover, violet eyes darkening as she unconsciously licked her lips, a hunger welling up inside of her as she looked at her Muse.

“Anything?” She asked in a husky tone, heart beginning to pound as she began to plan and scheme as her Muse chuckled before they leaned in once more, their tongue lightly caressing her ear as they answered with the word that cemented their fate. 

“Yes.” A low squeal slipped past their lips as Fulgrim shifted them just so that her hand was beginning to grope at them, the hunger in her eyes now an all consuming blackness as she licked her lips once more, a shudder of delight at the thoughts racing through her mind racking the Matriarch’s frame as she lifted her gaze to look over her children, a knife cut smile appearing on her face as violet eyes blazed like thunderbolts.

The gathered Astartes looked at one another, several silently vowing to work with their mother, if for no other reason than their own safety, while others, such as a silently cackling Florencia Bile, vowing to do all they could to make the coming party as exciting as they could for their Mother and their kin. 

And so it was that as the shuttle wound its way down to the planet below, the Muse leaned back their head and let out a low chuckle, delighting in the merry chaos that was sure to unfurl, and at the prospect of watching Fulgrim do all she can to earn her reward. 

‘This is going to be one hell of a party,’ They thought to themself as they closed their eyes and relaxed in their lover’s arms, eagerly awaiting planetfall and the beginning of a night full of merriment.

As the Shuttles wound their way down to the planet, a figure emerged as a stygian vessel arrived in silence, the figure swiftly moving aboard the vessel as it began to spirit them away from the fleet, unseen by any and all, the figure that had climbed aboard swiftly sitting their package down and placing it within a vault, the faint light of the ships interior lights alighting for but a brief moment upon a container layered in seals and wards before it was locked away.

Line Break

Silence hung heavy and loud in the halls, broken not by the footfalls of the robe clad figure that maneuvered through the darkness of the black stone halls, navigating not by physical sight but by memory and senses far keener than their ancient form would make apparent. 

With impossible ease they held with one hand a case of dark metal, engraved with rune and symbol of warding magics and barriers, and in the other they carried a staff of metal adorned with a golden eagle upon its top, the flames that normally blazed to illuminate the great bird of prey having faded to not even smoldering embers.

For how long they walked none could say, for in the darkness of the depths of this most antiquated and stygian of vaults, time seemed to hold fast its breath, field with both wariness and awe of the horrors sealed behind great walls of stone and doors of ancient and terrible might, yet even where time dared not to tread, the cloaked figure did.

Unhurried they strode down the halls, the chill that hung so heavy in the air doing not to impede them as they approached their destination, a great door of stygian metal, layered in sigils of warding and restraining, flanked on either side by guards clad in sable with skulls of ivory and lone optics of baleful blue, the twin figures did not to impede the robed figure as it lifted a hand and, with an errant gesture, bid the door to open.

And open it did, great slabs of metal layered over one another parting as mechanisms unseen activated at the command of the figure that now strode forth into the room, the darkness of which hung in the air as though it were the ocean itself, fit to swallow, fit to crush and devour the one that had dared to intrude upon its sanctum.

Coldness such that frost coated the room struck at the figure, though it did not to deter them as they approached the center of the room, whereupon a great monolith of onyx metal loomed, shackles of ivory metal holding it fast to the ground as though it were a beast in need of binding and not an inert piece of metal.

Or perhaps they were there to restrain a different beast.

With practiced ease the figure lifted the package into the air, powers ancient and mighty holding it aloft as the figure lifted their hand and began to tap at the unseen keypad upon the surface of the great monolith, the sequence of numbers and letters, of symbols of languages ancient and dead, taking but a handful of moments for a hand that moved with speed that it should not have possessed. 

The sequence completed, the figure stepped back as there came a silent pulse across the surface of the monolith as it silently slid open, parting such that a slot large enough for the container and that which was held within could be fitted, runes of even greater power glowed from within, these of burning gold that hummed with power mightier than even that which the ancient figure held.

The container rattled, that which was within attempting to flee from the power of that most ancient and terrible of foes, though no ground could it gain in its bid for flight, for the ancient figure seized the container with a lone hand and moved it within the space, slotting it such that the runes pressed against the container.

Faintly, a sound not unlike an agonized scream could be heard. 

With deft movements the ancient figure tapped upon the keypad once more, this time to seal the great vault, and to allow the runes of power to do their long work, they would bleed the object of its power, scorching and searing and maiming that which was held within till not remained of its great might and with ease it could be unmade.

As the robed figure began to depart the room, he thought to himself how the runes had been arranged, of the intent and power held within them, of the tranquil fury that had been upon the face of his ancient friend as they had carved them, the radiance of her power such that the room around her had nearly melted under its might as it was directed into the runes. 

‘I suppose the old saying is true then,’ the ancient figure thought to himself as he left the room, a rap of his staff upon the ground bidding the great doors to seal shut behind him as the figures of its guards blended back into the shadow as a wall of stone rose from the ground to further conceal the entrance to the cell. 

‘No greater force there is, than a mother shielding her young.’(1) The thought in his mind, and his mission complete for a time, the ancient lord began to wind his way through the antiquated chambers.

He would be ash in the wind before he allowed his old friends children, and his nieces, to be lost to the madness that was the 4 and their twisted designs, and so it was that as he wound his way through the halls and back to the surface, the one known as the Cursed Wanderer, began to plan his next moves in the Great Game.

Fin

We hope you all enjoyed this mess of a ficlet of ours, it is our first time delving into writing in the 40k setting, and our first time writing for this marvelous AU for that matter, so please let us know just how badly we screwed up in the comments. 

That said, stay safe and take care all.  

[nomorefstogive]

Hey 🦀 here thanks for answering my ask. The way you brainrotted these surprises me, this gives a sudden urge to download ptn and play it myself. It's kinda hard to find someone with the same interests as me irl, so yeah I'm going to prepare for the big day today and once again thank you I hope your doing alright, remember to drink water, take some rest, and take care :D

Hello, sorry for the delay with this I just checked and saw this, I am doing well so far, and I am always glad to share brainrots and to indoctr-*Ahem* I mean, spread the good word of PTN to others and to welcome them into the fold lol.

I also share the pain of finding it hard to find others who share my interests in the outside world, being an Aspie does not help at all, nor does being an introvert, so I am always happy to share ideas and such with fellow fans online.

That said, I am uncertain if you know this so I am throwing it out, there is some content of the game that is locked as the events 'RainBurst' and 'Floral Unfurl', along with the interrogations for Coquelic and Shalom, contain vital information for the plot but were exclusive to the anniversary, and I am uncertain about a repeat of the events/Sinners banners, particularly Coquelic's.

So if you want the full picture on the lore before Rustfire, I think that is when they take place, you might want to google some videos of these events and see them for yourself.

With all of that said, take care and stay safe as well my friend.

[nomorefstogive]

Hi! 🦀 here thanks for answering my idea. Here's what I imagine what would Mania form! Chief would look like;

Credits to the original owner of the character Ping and the artist Neytirix! You should check out their arts in Twitter,yt, and deviant art (those are the only platform I know from now)

Basically I took the 'consume' in a literal way- like- in the future Mania form! Chief consume the first ever black ring(BR-000 if i remember it correctly) or consume the Mania in the city like those contamination, corpus, Corruptors etc. Probably the Sinners but instead their suffering or manic I guess? So yeah :D I hope your doing alright, drink plenty of water, gets some rest and good night

I like this design for their Mania form, something otherworldly and unnatural in form, wholly alien to our world and understanding, not quite solid, and yet not quite gaseous, a form of matter unknown to all making up a body that defies all other explanation beyond monstrous.

I can picture the Chief loosing control as the Mania overwhelms them, shadows and mist erupting from their form as they scream and howl in agony, the shackles burning with their pain as they begin to twist and distort into the monster pictured above, a howl slipping past the beasts lips as it surges towards BR-00, where it begins to feed on the power, culminating in a monstrous metamorphosis.

I like to imagine that they also possess a human form that they can switch into, after they achieve this state of Apotheosis, their eyes changing into the symbol of the Illusory Moon as the shackles coalesce into a halo above their head, wings of dark red and black, the colors of mania, mingled with the white and blue of Hypercubes mingled with the colors as they cast an ominous glow over the Chief's surroundings.

Part of this design is inspired by an idea I have that Mania is setting the chief up to be some form of Messianic figure to use as a means of securing dominance over the world, utilizing an angelic form to make them appear more divine to humanity, but I digress on that front.

This design makes me imagine their form as being more cosmic and otherworldly in nature even when human, the wings gaining an almost nebula like quality, the reds, blacks, blues, and whites mingling in constellations and galaxies.

Their hair becomes as comet trails, burning wisps of platinum gray light with the colors Mania and Hypercubes, of Madness and Order, reflecting from within the trails of light as the hair lengthens to caress their heels with each step, their skin gaining a faint glow as their clothing mends of any damage as they begin to walk towards their Sinners, their arms outstretched as though to embrace them as their eyes blaze with power undreamt of by mortals.

I feel this change would also manifest in their mentality warping, where as the human form embodies their desire for order and stability, along with their juvenile state, with the Mania form and their altered human state representing their growth into their own desires and mania, perhaps not quite their adult hood, but the middle ground between the pair, or mayhap a fusion of both Mania and Order.

The changes of their personality could be something as mild as them becoming more selfish, more determined to achieve their own happiness amidst the world, to something as major as them becoming near tyrannical in their views of matters, disdainful of those they cannot shackle and bind to them, and seeking to spread mania to all so that they may bind all to them.

In addition to this, I feel that their powers would alter, the normal Protestats, I think I spelled that right, growing to nightmarish levels of power, a Dark Sound becomes enough to level buildings, an Empower can recharge entire squadrons of Sinners, and a Last Stand, can make an entire legion fight like the hounds of hell made flesh and bone.

The Mania form would likely possess not only these powers, but also the ability to feed upon the Mania of the Sinners and to copy and or utilize said Sinner's powers as their own, something their human form would share to a lesser extent.

A towering monster of Mania is already a loathsomely powerful foe, but one that can call forth Ignis's flames along with Kelvin's ice to cause temperature explosions brought about by super cooling and then super heating the air, along with Chameleon's Hypnotic powers and Adele's ability to alter Memories to insure that none would even be aware of just who or what they were fighting unless the beast wished the m to be, perhaps even erasing its presence entirely until it is ready to strike.

There is also the fact that having absorbed so much Mania, it is likely the Chief would be giving off enough mania to turn any person in an enormous radius around them into either a sinner or a corruptor, with the sinners being the only ones able to draw near to them, their Mania monster form would likely have a radiation field of Mania able to effortlessly envelop all of Dis in its grasp and begin to contaminate all of those present.

Beyond all of that, I feel like this transformation would mark the beginning of a complete and total breakdown of Dis as Paradeisos and the Underground are faced with the the Chief's control over Mania and Sinners, along with their own power, reaching the point of being able to challenge both of them with ease as they become the one ready to flip the chessboard betwixt the two factions as they make their own play for Dis.

Would the Chief's actions be born out of malice?

Unlikely.

But as the saying goes, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," and one can only imagine what the Chief would do in pursuit of any noble goal with their mind and form altered such.

Like it or not, a new age would dawn for Dis and the world as a whole, and only time would tell if it would be a Golden age, or a Cruel Age.

At least that is all I have at the moment lol, sorry for the rambling, I got carried away again.

Take care and stay safe.

[nomorefstogive]

just some random idea I have on my mind. So both Shalom and Hecate are experiments of Paradeisos, they also have this Mania monster that are the emotions of that Sinner. So hear me out Chief and their like Mania creature thing? I remember scrolling through tumblr someone mentioned that Shalom said we are already a monster before they taken in us, like the person said what if in a literal way. Chief with their Mania form, their Mania form is strong because of the shackles connecting or supressing mania from Sinner, i headcanon they have a deep hatred on the Paradeisos. So yeah...(sorry 4 my bad English because it's not my first language)

🦀

Don't worry about the poor english you did very good, it's my first language and I have trouble with it at times too, so you are not alone my friend lol.

I would also like to preface this by apologizing if this reply is something of a mess, I am a little tired at the moment and trying to be concise and orderly with my thoughts and words is difficult for me on a good day lol.

As for the idea of the Chief being a Mania Monster similar to Nightmare or Rebel, it is an idea I have considered, my own theory is that the Chief has some type of bond or tie to the Perishing Star, given they were present during the Keylan Expedition and how easy it seems to be for the Illusory Moon and Mania to reach out to them during the Immortals events.

I feel that the chief is some kind of progeny or offspring of Mania, a sliver of humanity and hope given shape and form by Mania when it struck the earth and began to coalesce and seize power as it took dominion of the world from mankind, for either a long con or for other reasons thus far unknown.

Or perhaps it could be more apt to say that they were severed from Mania, with Mania as we know it reflecting the darkness and madness of the human psyche while the chief was to embody the opposite, being a beacon of control and order amidst the madness, something that humanity, so desperate for hope, would latch onto and nurture for the sake of its own survival.

The alternative to this is that the chief is something else entirely, some kind of entity that may have once been a part of Mania itself, or perhaps something else entirely, a wildcard left to roam free so as to grow and swell in might to be of better use come the time they are needed.

Apologies for the brief rant, I got off topic lol.

I agree with the chief having a deep resentment for Paradeisos, something that they themselves are likely unaware of the sheer depth of due to the interrupted rejuvenation leading to their memories being wiped before the story began...something which is oddly coincidental if you think about it.

I digress.

On the Subject of the Chief's power coming from them linking with the sinners and suppressing/controlling their mania, I agree that seems to be the case for their own growing strength.

That said, it makes me think that if their power is indeed growing with every Sinner they shackle, then the 'Rules' of Paradeisos are the only thing keeping the rising typhoon of manic power at bay, though one can only wonder how long such barriers will last.

If the Chief is indeed some form of Mania entity, something which is strongly hinted at in canon as well given some of the liens the Corpseborne and Parma say about the Chief, then it stands to reason that they could be either a defective corpseborn, as some seem to believe, or perhaps they are the final product of the process.

A being that is indistinguishable from a human and yet endowed with great and terrible power that grows more and more as mania spreads, as if their power is indeed growing with each sinner that is shackled and every corpus they consume, then one has to try and picture just what kind of monster the Chief will be when they are returned to full power and the 'Rules' fail.

I feel that when such a thing occurs, and it will occur, the Chief's old persona will resurface in full and Dis will be granted audience with a Vassal of Mania whose power exceeds any and all things they have witnessed before as Mania calls its Shepherd to its side once more to settle old scores with Paradeisos and the Underground alike.

Again, I apologize for going off course and starting to ramble, it tends to happen more often than not lol.

I feel that is all I have for this at the moment so I will leave this here, stay safe and take care.

[nomorefstogive]

Imagine giving the path to nowhere sinners music from our world. I would like to see the reactions to lady gaga or Miley Cyrus.

Idea imagine we make a music video with the sinners. If you look up the music video for prisoner by Miley Cyrus and Dua Lipa. Imagine that with the sinners

Sorry for the delay in getting this out, I have been having some fun delving into a new AU for Warhammer 40k, Female Primarchs and the mayhem they would bring, and binging Fallout New Vegas with some mods in it.

Side Note: Lakelurks are assholes and I will make them all into sushi if one more hits me.

That said, I read this and I immediately pictured Peggy, Hella, and several others being introduced to the Rap Legend that is Eminem, the Chief would have a migraine by the end of the first few hours of hearing about his songs and them quoting said songs lol.

As for the idea of the MBCC branching off and making music videos featuring the sinners, it is certainly in the realm of possibility given Deren's reality bending powers, along with the potential resources of some of the wealthier sinners (Chelsea, Cabernet, Eirene etc), along with the talents of the more technically talented sinners, such as Summer, it would be rather simple for them to do so.

It would also be interesting to see some of the Sinners lend their voices or ideas to the lyrics and such for the songs, a real surprise being the potential for the Grim Reaper herself, Nox, lending her voice and the voices of those within her to the song.

Somehow, I feel this idea would work in a very amusing way if the Chief and Nightingale were unaware of just what it was the Sinners were up to, until they see one of the videos as an ad lol.

Additionally, I feel that the Sinners would enjoy a rather diverse range of music, with some like Chameleon and Eirene enjoying classical such as Bethoven and Mozart, while others, such as Mr. Fox and maybe Demon or Langley might enjoy older style music such as Frank Sinatra, at least those are my takes on the matter.

Although, now I am curious, which genres of music do you feel the Sinners and Staff of the MBCC would enjoy?

Also, and this is due in no small part to my renewed fascination with the setting, how do you feel the MBCC would react to being shown the world of Fallout, or how a crossover between the 2 worlds would go with Fallout being set on another landmass opposite to Dis and Eastia?

With all of that said, stay safe and take care.

[nomorefstogive]

Path To Nowhere SFW Headcanons: Chapter 4: Shalom

Hello again everyone, and welcome to the 4th chapter of this fic of ours. We apologize for the rather lengthy delay with this chapter, but life has been rather annoying of late, and we spent a sizable amount of time working on a chapter for our Azur Lane fic…which is the longest thing I have ever written. With life and other projects further hamstringing our efforts to devote as much time to this fic as we wish we could.

Regardless, today we are covering a Sinner that was once again requested by EinarKaslana on Ao3, a woman who has left so much death and despair in her wake it could fill a sea, even if she herself has not lifted a hand to cause it directly.

A woman who, though frail of body, is beyond a doubt one of the greatest chess masters in all of Dis, having managed to deceive Paradeisos, the Underground, and many more in her bid to protect the ones dear to her.

A woman whose moniker will be forever synonymous with dread and terror to those who have made the unfortunate decision of standing in her way, and perhaps even to her own allies given the extremes to which she will go to obtain the most ‘ideal outcome’ to her plans.

Today we feature the Human Machine, the Monster of Paradise, the Hush of Paradeisos-

Shalom

1. She has many times attempted to usurp Nightingale as the chief’s adjutant in an effort to get closer to the Chief, with her efforts ranging from subtle attempts to discredit Nightingale, to outright attempting to have her transferred to a different Agency, though these efforts have all been in vain. 

She has since switched her efforts from removing the Adjutant from play, to making her into an ideal subordinate to aid the Chief and to use as a proxy for her own plans to benefit the Chief, herself, and the rest of the MBCC through a variety of means, some of which have left Nightingale adamant in putting a bullet in the head of whoever is responsible for them.

2. She does not like overly spicy food, something with a little kick is fine, but anything above that is too much for her, a weakness that Coquelic somehow figured out and used against her by lacing one of her meals with a notoriously hot pepper. 

Shalom’s yelp of pain as the spice overwhelmed her, and the way her eyes had begun to water as she downed her entire drink before she asked Rahu to get her another one, is an image that has been immortalized in the halls of The Garden via several covertly taken photos and videos.

That the Garden found its flower garden in the Greenhouse dying barely a week later, in addition to the Chief being unable to get her hands on any additional flower seeds to replace the ones they had lost for several months afterwards was certainly just a coincidence…right?

3. She still has a soft spot for Christina despite past…incidents. And while she desires for Christina to make her own path, she still considers her to be her detective, and as such maintains a careful eye on her.

From keeping track of which cases she is working, the threat they pose to her detective, the people she socializes with, her newest interests, her family’s state of affairs, to the way she decorates her room, and so on, she feels at ease knowing that her detective is safe and sound.

She has made it clear to her detective that she will always be present to offer her help should she need it, granted her help tends to come with the requirement of Chris having to spend time with Shalom while she addresses her as ‘Big Sister Shalom’ during said time and allowing the Hush to call her ‘Little Sister’ as well.

As such she is never able to fight the smile that comes to her face when Christina needs her help, especially when she is able to use the chance to pamper her detective and see how far she has grown while on her own.

4. This was a suggestion that came from EinarKaslana on Ao3, so all credit for it goes to them.

That said, it is a shared headcanon between us that she is fond of photography, and maintains many photo albums throughout her places of residence, with specific people, such as the Chief, Christina, and Rahu, having entire albums devoted to pictures taken of them by the Hush.

That some of them were taken by cameras they were unaware of is neither here nor there to Shalom, and so long as they remain unaware of them, it will be nothing to them either…especially so long as they do not discover the albums that contain more candid pictures of them in various states of undress or in certain…compromising positions.

It is safe to say that those albums are among her most well hidden and well defended of treasures, with even Schorl being unaware of their location.  

5. She has a soft spot for cats and dogs, often leaving out food for them or taking the time to pet and pamper them when she encounters them, as such she was one of the staunchest backers for the MBCC gaining an on site pound/shelter. 

That said, she is also an avid fan of cat cafes having dragged Christina and Rahu to enough that they can reliably name the majority of the cat cafes in Dis off the top of their head, with but a few exceptions for those that have yet to have the Hush grace them. 

She also tends to leave very sizable tips at said cafes, enough that the staff go out of their way to meet her expectations, and that they do not say a word about her gathering enough cats to cover herself and whoever is with her at the time in them.

6. Her room is surprisingly rather homey, with a number of bookshelves lining the walls, only broken up by small tables or wall fixtures with lamps and candles resting on them, an assortment of dark colored furniture, a large amount of flowers, both in pots on tables and hanging from the ceiling, and a rather sizable collection of horror related media. 

She also has a large canopied bed that she has covered in enough pillows that many periodically fall off when anything jostles the bed, and a rather sizable amount of scented candles and incense scattered throughout her room. 

Her main outfit of choice, along with several copies of her favorite coat, is kept in a dresser near her bathroom, while a much larger walk-in closet is dedicated to other uniforms and outfits that she has amassed over the years, though they are a subject for later on.

There is also a room that is hidden within her cell, a result of her machinations and of several deals made to allow her skills to be used to benefit the MBCC, said room being filed with a wall of monitors and terminals, a large number of filing cabinets rigged with incendiary devices that she can activate by tapping a button on her terminal, and a sizable amount of targets for her to focus her skills on.

She can never stop herself from chuckling everytime she enters the room, picturing the look on her former handlers faces were they to become aware that the Hush of Paradeisos, has become the Hush of Minos, granted said role is kept secret from the Chief, but it is the thought that counts…at least to her. 

7. While there are many Sinners and staff within the bureau that adore Shalom, there are equally as many that hold in her both dread and contempt, be it because they know just Who she is, or because they feel that something is not quite right with her, some sixth sense warning them to avert themselves from aligning so closely with her. 

Among those who hold her in disdain are Langley, who has seen enough of the mountain of corpses the Hush has built as an agent of Paradeisos to fully trust her, even with her devotion seemingly to have switched to her rookie.

As a result, the Spider has a special bullet with Shalom’s name written on it for the moment she feels the Hush has become more trouble than she is worth keeping around. 

Another one that holds the Hush in contempt is Chameleon, the hypnotist being able to see through the mask that Shalom wears and finding the thing she glimpses beneath it to be of no small amount of concern, hence her own caution in regards to her.

Her trepidation regarding Shalom was only further cemented by the fact that the one time Chameleon attempted to use her power on Shalom resulted in her awakening in her cell with a migraine, a bloodied nose, and a letter reading- “Please, don’t try that again. I would hate to have to explain your loss to the Chief. Sincerely-Shalom”

Of course there is also the Garden and their own wariness of the woman to consider as well, as, while they do admit her actions allowed for them to escape the clutches of the Underground, her methods…have done their perception of her no favors.

Though they can agree with her desire to support the Chief and to safeguard their new home, it does nothing to keep them from having their eyes on her, and a blade marked with her name on it should she overstep her bounds. 

While there are many more who feel wariness of the former Hush of Paradeisos, perhaps rivaled but by that of the former leader of Rustifre is that of her own former protegee and pseudo sister, Chirstina. 

Having seen first hand just how ruthless her mentor can be, along with having gotten a glimpse as to the true nature of her work for Paradeisos, she has since found that while she yet has a fondness for Shalom, she can never feel as at ease in her presence as she once did due to what she has done, something which is bittersweet to Shalom.

8. She is one of a very select few to have actually beaten Eirene at both normal chess, and a specialized version of it designed by the Head Of Quinn, with her version of chess being something which involves multiple chess boards linked to a rotating table, where the players are playing multiple games simultaneously with but a few moments to make each decision and move. 

Said game lasted nearly 12 hours, and ended with Shalom claiming a resounding victory with but minimal losses upon the other boards, a feat which has since earned her no small amount of fame within the bureau, even from her detractors, and a standing offer to play chess with Eirene whenever she wishes to. 

9. While she is physically frail, especially for an S-Rank Sinner, she is still heads and shoulders above an average person in terms of speed, strength, and endurance, being as able of breaking bones with a punch as she is ruining someone's life with a few well placed whispers. 

That said, she is surprisingly somewhat unaware of the extent of this strength, especially given that she is severely lacking in training for CQC and the usage of firearms and other weaponry, given her preference for remaining on the backlines and using the overwhelming might of Schorl to contend with any foe that gets in her way, and has thus not really had any reason to use it. 

Yet even without training, she is still a capable threat should someone get in close, something which has lead to several sinners and staff seeing the surreal scene of her casually flinging a corruptor, that had somehow bypassed Schorl’s scanners, three times her size against a wall before it was vaporized by the aforementioned Paradeisian weapon.

10. She has gained a habit of messing with Schorl by putting stickers and such on it, something which the machine does not seem to enjoy given how it will try and find any way it can to remove the stickers or markings from itself the moment they are applied. 

Shalom even once went so far as to write on the Paradeisian device with a pink marker, using it as a means of reminding herself of an appointment she had with Dr. Iron and Nurse Anne regarding her health, with the machine actually allowing the message to be written and to remain…at least until after her appointment, at which point it bore a hole through a water pipe and used it to wash itself off. 

Similarly, she once brought up the idea of coloring the Schorl, with the machine and its operators adamantly rejecting the very concept of the idea, going so far as to destroy the can of paint and paint brush that she had purchased to do so before they scurried off.

11. She cannot drive. This is one of the few points of agreement the Chief and Paradeisos have ever been able to reach as Shalom’s driving can lead to no small amount of damage to the vehicle she is behind the wheel of, along with the sanity and health of her passengers. 

The last time she attempted to drive she managed to make it a quarter of the way to her destination before Rahu and Christina, both of whom were holding on to one another for dear life, managed to convince her to switch with Rahu while Christina and Schorl spoke with the sherrifs regarding the collateral damage.

They were less than 3 minutes into what should have been a 9 minute long drive at the time.

12. She is fond of dropping by the Chief’s office and helping them with their work whenever the opportunity presents itself, something which has greatly endeared her to the Chief, and, albeit begrudgingly, Nightingale. 

That she tends to leave each of these sessions wondering just how it is that the Bureau has not imploded in on itself or declared secession from Dis in some fit of mad lunacy, is something that tends to add some enjoyment to her day by trying to make sense of the insanity of the MBCC. 

She has even gone so far as to compile many of the more interesting stories and reports into a personal collection to browse for her own entertainment whenever she feels the need for some levity. 

To this day, one of her favorites remains the time that Emp managed to weave so elaborate a lie that it resulted in the FAC spending nearly 4 days investigating a ‘Duck Sinner’ that was responsible for the destruction of a power plant, with the Archer even managing to, albeit unknowingly, have Paradaisos waste several days investigating the same claim when it was relayed to them. 

The true culprit of the Power Plant overloading was of course, EMP herself, though Shalom vowed to take that secret to her grave in exchange for the amount of humor her lie gave her.

13. Rahu once attempted to teach her how to use a conventional weapon for self defense, in the event that Schorl was destroyed or disabled and she was not present, only for the attempt to end with Christina having to get her hat repaired courtesy of the bullet ricocheting off of the target, off of the ground between Rahu’s feet, the ceiling above them, the railing of the shooting range, and then into the top of Christina’s hat. 

That Langley had the audacity to not only laugh when she heard the report, but to then order Shalom not be allowed to touch any firearms in the Bureau has since been something of a sore spot for the Hush, especially since both Christina and Rahu aid the Spider in enforcing such a rule. 

14. While her fondness for the horror genre of film has long been a well established trend in the bureau, with her appreciation for it in literature and art being similarly well known, her fondness for horror games is a relatively new obsession of hers. 

Most of this fondness for the horror genre of gaming can be laid at the feet of Etti, who Shalom overheard running a horror themed tabletop session, EMP, who introduced her to horror anime as repayment for lending her a movie, and Nino, who she watched stream a horror game that caught her fascination. 

Since then, she has devoured many horror games in terms of both playing them and watching them, with some of the games being of such disturbing levels that even Schorl was driven to escape the room to avoid the more disturbing scenes and gameplay. 

That her new fascination has started a trend among the ones in charge of monitoring her via Schorl using the media she enjoys as a form of Test Of Courage, is something she is aware of enough to greatly enjoy. 

With her fondness later extending to Tabletop games and the potential for horror and suspenseful storytelling within them as she learned of many of the horror campaigns that had been run by other DMs.

This being something that led to her approaching Etti to request her guidance on the matter, with Etti agreeing to help her DM a horror themed session, the young dragon all too happy to help a fledgling DM in the art of destro-*Ahem* creating an enjoyable session for everyone with minimal tears and screams involved.

That said session she ran resulted in Horo hiding under Zoya’s bed, Christina hiding with Thistle in a closet, Hella and Ninety-Nine refusing to leave their room without ear plugs on as they cursed her to hell and back, was something that lead to Etti declaring Shalom to be her new apprentice in the art of DMing.

The sheer panic that announcement caused nearly brought the Bureau to its knees.

15. Upon learning of Cabernet’s ability to materialize and consume souls, Shalom sought her out with a rather curious request, as she wished for the Franc Heiress to materialize a piece of Shalom’s own soul so that she could taste it out of her own curiosity. 

After a rather lengthy debate with the Chief, and several tablets of aspirin, it was decided to allow the experiment of sorts to take place, with Cabernet materializing 2 pieces of Shalom’s soul as a pair of grapes, one being given to the Hush and the other being kept by the Glutton of Souls herself. 

Cabernet would later remark that the taste was bizarre, as at first there appeared to be no flavor at all to her grape, only for her to be suddenly hit with an overwhelming bombardment of taste to such an extent she was nearly ill, the heiress later remarking to the Chief that beyond all of the myriad flavors there was something else…a feeling that was unnamable to her, yet left her feeling uneasy for many days afterwards.

Shalom would claim that she enjoyed the  taste of the grape as well, though the true joy of the experience seemed to be an idea that had come to her as she would later approach the Glutton with an offer that she would request be kept between the two of them.

What was that offer? 

Perhaps it is better off unknown if the way the Franc Heiress refused to leave her room for several days afterwards was anything to go by, and it is likely better still to not question why it is she seems to make a weekly tribute of a grape to the Hush, one that could not possibly have been made with Shalom’s own soul.

Indeed, it is better not to question what was said between the two.

16. She is still in regular contact with, and financially supporting, her former maid from her time at Erica Villa, Rosa. 

The young woman having managed to somehow earn the fondness of the former Hush to such an extent that she has been working quite tirelessly to convince the Chief to allow for her to be employed at the Bureau, her main argument being that she could be of great help as part of any of the departments that need her…along with being another at least semi-sane and responsible person to help keep the MBCC in…relatively stable condition. 

With each day she makes the argument to the Chief she wears her down more and more until she will be able to have her maid back at her side, and once more enjoy teaming up with her to make Rahu, and soon the Chief, as flustered as possible with their shared teasing. 

17. She is not allowed any form of caffeine, a rule Paradeisos ‘forgot’ to inform the Chief of when Shalom was sent to the Bureau, with Rahu and Christina thinking the Hush herself or Schorl would have informed the Chief of this rule…only to learn that was not the case.

Indeed, the Chief learned of this rule when someone, she is willing to bet her life that it was either Hella or EMP, saw that the former Hush looked tired and offered her some of Summer’s Special Brew Coffee. 

What happened next is something known but to those who were there that day and who managed to gain access to the security footage, something which was soon locked behind the highest grade of confidentiality that Paradeisos could create, with the files being further encrypted by Summer and Langley as well. 

Any attempts at acquiring an answer from those who witnessed what happened that day would be met with nothing but a thousand-mile stare, with several others whimpering and curling into the fetal position or turning and fleeing as swiftly as they can, with none daring to vocalize just what happened that day. 

All anyone knows is that a substantial portion of the bureau needed repair done to it, several officials that had been adamantly against the Chief and the MBCC had to resign from their positions in disgrace once certain information regarding them was leaked, along with a rather sizable amount of collateral damage being done to several major roadways and side streets. 

Schorl has since been given permission to destroy any source of caffeine Shalom manages to get her hands on.

18. She has been utilizing her abilities to commune with the Mania Monster made of her discarded humanity known as Rebel in a bid to earn its compliance and to be assemble to utilize it to its fullest one day, her primary reason for doing so being something of an emergency measure should Paradeisos attempt to remove her from play along with having an emergency ace in the hole for rainy days. 

That it could be an additional tool for the Chief and a means of further defending her should anything befall the Hush, the monster having long made clear its own deep seated adoration for the Chief to her during their…’Conversations’, is but yet another lie she has come to tell herself. 

That she also wants to reconnect with her lost humanity and to try and bond with it is something she has tried time and again to deny even to herself, yet as time has gone by, and her emotions have begun to return to her, she has found it increasingly hard to deny her true reason for wishing to do so.

The truth of the matter…is that all of this is being driven by Her ability to feel the loneliness of that missing part of herself and her desire to end it and fill the gaping wound torn in her own soul all those years ago by Paradeisos. 

All she truly wants is to feel whole again. 

19. She has an odd relationship with Hecate, somewhere between an almost sisterly bond and that of a mentor, with the former Hush often volunteering to accompany the younger sinner into the field to act as a mentor to her, that she still unconsciously tries to protect her is something neither will directly mention to one another. 

The pair have likewise somewhat exchanged hobbies with Shalom managing to get Hecate interested in the horror genre, while Hecate has managed to convince Shalom to take up sketching and, to a lesser degree, painting as a hobby, something the Hush has taken the somewhat relaxed leash and observation she is under during her stay in the bureau to thoroughly enjoy.  

That most of her works feature the Chief, several even having her in a state of undress or in various…compromising positions, is something that only the Hush and Hecate, who happened to mistake her sketchbook for an empty one, knows of. 

It is safe to say the following exchange was quite awkward for the pair, though they were eventually able to work past it and continue their regular sessions of shared artistic endeavor…with the addition of a rather bright tag to mark which sketchbook is Shalom’s. 

In a similar vein, Shalom has taken a rather sizable amount of time in teaching Hecate how to think strategically and to plan for various scenarios, with the young Sinner having shown a marked improvement in her Dispatches as result of the tutoring, that the Chief saw fit to praise Shalom was simply a bit of icing on the cake to her. 

That said, many Sinner feel no small amount of unease at the idea of the Hush having taken the Chief’s Shadow under her wing, especially given the uncanny similarities the pair seem to share, the only comfort most have been able to find in the matter being their shared loyalty to the Chief. 

Though even so, most fear the idea of just what Hecate could become if Shalom is allowed to mold her enough, thus all of those within the Bureau tend to keep an eye on the pair whenever they are together and they can. 

20. She has mapped out the vast majority of the secret tunnels that span the Bureau, particularly all of the ones that lead to the kitchens and to the Chief’s room, with her making use of them to not only be able to sneak away to the kitchen for late night snacks or when she needs a drink during her work, with her also using the tunnels to deliver snacks to the Chief and to surprise her when she is working. 

She also makes use of them to avoid certain parties and to surprise others, with her usage of them having gotten to the point that a not so small number of Sinners and staff are of the opinion that she is in possession of some form of teleportation device. 

That Shalom seems to find some humor in these rumors and even tends to encourage them through her own actions and inactions has likewise led to no small amount of confusion and unease among the Sinner population due to the potential threat she could pose with such a device. 

The Chief has tried time and again to dispel these rumors, only for them to constantly re-emerge after enough time has passed, something which has led to the Chief and the rest of the administration staff of the Bureau nearing the end of their rope in regards to how to handle the spreading rumors, with Paradeisos offering no help on the matter. 

21. She has found something of a way to utilize her “Mark” in tandem with the Chief’s Shackles, a method of piggybacking off of the Shackles and utilizing her ability in a way that makes it considerably less obvious towards both the recipient of the ‘Mark’ and the Chief herself that one is under the Hush’s influence. 

Even with this loophole removing her need for direct eye contact with her targets among the Sinners, it still requires for the targets to be in a heightened emotional state, and for the Chief to not be aware of her actions due to her ability to sense the influence through the Shackles and throttle it before it truly spreads. 

The knowledge of this influencing power is strictly confidential so as to prevent any panic from spreading among the Sinners, especially among those who have prior experience with the Hush and her power., with the Chief having further heightened her security around the Hush, despite her claims of only wishing to use her power to aid the Chief.

That said, the loophole has a further weakness in that Sinners of strong enough will, or those who are particularly Contaminated, such as Nox, Dreya, and so on, can not only resist the influence of the Mark through this loophole, but can also somewhat retaliate against it, causing Shalom a sizable amount of pain when they do so, Nox’s own retaliation leading to her having a severe nosebleed and being near catatonic for several hours. 

The final weakness of this ability is that she requires time to focus on the Shackles, and the slightest of disturbances can interrupt her ability, with contact with the chief being an additional means of furthering her power’s stability, though since this loophole came to her awareness she has made certain to be on her guard around her the vast majority of the time. 

A final note is that by some means she has been able to keep this development secret from Paradeisos, using it as yet another tool in whatever schemes of rebellion she harbors against the organization. 

22. She has given Thistle the equivalent to ‘The Shovel Talk’, with the exception of her talk involving her simply sitting in silence for a while as she looked Thistle in the eye, smiling as a triangle Mark flared in her eye as an unspoken warning of what awaits the assassin if anything befalls Christina. 

Thistle’s reply simply being to lift up her sword and set it alight with her own silent vow, that should any of the Hush’s schemes cause harm to the detective, she would not live long enough to enjoy whatever form of victory she managed to achieve. 

That the Hush has the audacity to smile at her actions a low chuckle slipping past her lips as she finished her tea before rising and walking past the assassin, pausing but to ruffle Thistle’s hair with an amused glint in her eyes as she left the assassin, only caused her to further despise the woman even if they could agree on protecting Christina.

That Thistle collapsed back into her chair as she fought to control her heart beat and suppress the adrenaline tearing through her body after Shalom had left the room, is something that she will deny ever happened that day.

23. She has met Christina’s step sister several times, each time ending in her being chased out of the house courtesy of the wheelchair bound girl either throwing objects at her or swatting at her with something as she tells her to stay away from Christina. 

That said, she has not stopped her attempts at somewhat courting the young woman’s favor, having arranged for, and personally done, many things to make life easier for the young woman, such as aiding in her finding a stable source of income from home, and ensuring that she and Christina are able to visit whenever they wish. 

Even with all that she has done however, the young woman still does not trust her, and does her best to try and mitigate any influence Shalom has over her, that said, she does appreciate Shalom’s efforts and has at least allowed for them to chat for more than 30 minutes before she starts chasing her out of her home.

24. While Shalom can be said to have a rather refined palate, she does also have a taste for more simple foods as well, especially given that Paradeisos did not allow her to indulge in them before due to her needing to maintain an image as their Envoy and their close monitoring of her. 

As a result of this, and the somewhat increased freedom she has at the Bureau, she has gained the habit of searching for small hole in the wall restaurants and such to dine at with the Chief, Rahu, or Christina, with her having gained a reputation as an exceptionally generous patron. 

More than once, Rahu has been caught off guard by seeing staff greet the former Hush by name and show her to her favored seat in the establishment, one time of note involving a rather portly chef who was easily double Rahu’s own size and weight leaving the kitchen to greet Shalom with an embrace as he sat her down and spoke with her for a little bit before going to cook her meal. 

She has even tried some of the more exotic foods brought back by Wolverine from his hunts, such as the meat of Sand Worms, which she claims has an oddly gamey flavor to it that is not that unpleasant, and a form of lizard that she actually quite liked the taste of, much to everyone’s shock. 

That said, she did refuse to even look at the scorpions and other multi-legged insectoid like creatures the Hunter caught, due in part to a reason that will be touched on below. 

25. She has a case of Arachnophobioa, something even the Hush experiment could never fully remove from her, with her gradually returning emotions having only amplified her fear of Spider or rather anything with over 2 or 4 legs.

The Chief first learned of this phobia when an insectoid Corruptor, resembling a mutated spider/human hybrid, appeared and Shalom froze for several seconds, only for her to snap out of her panic and have Schorl turn the surrounding area into enough glass that the sunlight reflecting off of it could have blinded someone. 

Despite the best efforts of both the Chief and Shalom to keep such information confidential, it somehow managed to leak to both Langley and the Garden, with the pair forming a somewhat un-official alliance to use this newly discovered weakness to get a bit of revenge on the Hush. 

Rahu very much did not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night by a rather frantic Shalom calling her and telling her that she needed her to come rescue her, that Paradeisos sent a message that, in a rather deadpan way said Shalom did indeed require her aid but that it was not urgent, only furthered her confusion.

Rahu would arrive with the Chief to see Shalom having barricaded herself within a dresser as Schorl hovered nearby, a rather large assortment and variety of non-lethal spiders having taken lordship over her room, with sizes ranging from small to far too large for comfort for most people…particularly the Chief who bolted into the dresser with Shalom, leaving Rahu to deal with the eight-legged invaders.

She had the damndest feeling that Schorl was laughing at her, the machine having not been of any aid due to the risk of damaging the prison should it start to utilize its weaponry on the perfidious vermin…she was certain it was also because whoever was monitoring the situation was getting a kick out of it, but she held her tongue.

It would take several hours, many spider bites, a lot of cursing, and several questionable sounds from the dresser, before at last Rahu claimed her final victory over the spider invasion, the only clue she needed to know who was responsible being a lone flower she found resting outside of the Hush’s room when she was finished.

A bright yellow tulip that seemed to be laughing at her weary form.

She felt no small delight in crushing it under her boot, and her joy only grew when she aided Shalom in her own retaliation on the Garden and Langley, said retaliation taking the form of causing a sizable influx of paperwork for Langley and the 9th as a whole, such that they did not leave their offices for almost a whole week, while the Garden found themselves invaded by a large amount of bees and ants, which would take several weeks to full eradicate. 

In the end the groups involved called a cease fire to this chapter of their feud when the Chief tired of the chaos they were causing, interfered and threatened to avoid spending any time with them if they continued, the potential of the undesirable outcome causing a lull in their feud…at least until something else set it off once more. 

26. That her and Langley have a somewhat…contentious relationship, is rather well known, though the exact reasons are not. 

A part of it is something that is largely due to their differing approach on not only how they handle their work, but also in regards to how they view the actions each other have taken during their respective careers. 

In terms of their work, Langley dislikes how little Shalom shares in regards to any matter she assigns the 9th, many times she has kept the vast majority of information and secrets that could lead to an easier time completing the missions close to her chest, leading to Langley losing many valuable subordinates. 

On the opposing hand, Shalom dislikes how open Langley is with her subordinates in terms of sharing information and formulating plans, believing that by entrusting the information to said subordinates the Spider is putting herself and the operations at risk, a fact Paradeisos has agreed with many times, much to her silent disgust, thus leading to her keeping the aforementioned information largely close to her chest for fear of it being compromised. 

In terms of how they view their actions, it boils down to how they justify what they have done, both of them accept that they have committed, and will continue to commit, horrific deeds in the name of a greater purpose, but whereas Langley claims hers is for the good of all of Dis, Shalom admits that everything she has done was in the name of Paradeisos and their own agenda, with many others being done for her own and the Chief’s benefit later on. 

That Shalom readily admits the fault of her actions does not make them any better in Langley’s eyes, especially given how many of her men and women have been caught in the middle of the schemes of the Hush and Paradeisos and either killed or maimed to the point of no longer being able to operate in the field. 

Her anger is only further stoked as, instead of attempting to change her methods and approach as she has regained her emotions and has gained the Chief’s aid, Shalom largely chooses to keep utilizing methods that are either similar to, or almost identical to, her original methods of achieving her goals, with the few moments she takes a different approach only further infuriating Langley as it proves that, while difficult to the extreme, she can change her methods but seems to not want to. 

On the other hand, Shalom views Langley as being somewhat too self righteous, convinced that she and her Agency are always working for the best of Dis, bending and often breaking the laws of the very city they protect, along with Paradeisos’ own rules, which has lead to no shortage of headaches for her. 

In that same vein, Shalom believes that Langley can be far too gentle in her approach to how she handles certain matters, along with allowing for her fondness for her subordinates to interfere with her decision making process, something that Langley has argued is not the case many times. 

However, having said all of that, the pair are still able to work together remarkably well given the correct circumstances, from a major threat to Dis, to something choosing to target their Chief, these moments displaying just how formidable they could truly be, if they could ever bury the hatchet between them.

Though such a thing seems like it will take a miracle to occur. 

27. The first time she met Oak Casket in person, the Lady of the Romanesque hall approached her and Rahu as they were walking down a hallway, with her stopping in front of them as she looked Shalom in the eye and told her that she could at last put a face to the name so many spirits had cursed to the depths of hell and beyond as they found their way to her. 

She would further claim that even now, within the halls of the Bureau, the spirits of countless maniacs clung to Shalom like a shroud, with her likening her approach to that of a storm front, the wailing and crying of the maniacs being the wind, the rain being their unseen and unfelt tears, and their furious shouting the deafening roar of thunder. 

While Rahu reacted with unease and prepared for conflict, Schorl similarly readying for battle, Oak Casket merely strode forward, uncaring of them, and walked past them, pausing but to say that if she was ever curious what their final words and thoughts were, she could ask the Chief where to find her.

She was not surprised when, several days later, Shalom arrived at her doorstep, the Hush vanishing into the Funeral Parlor director’s room, where she would remain for nearly the rest of the day until she left later on, finding Rahu and Schorl waiting for her at the door. 

Shalom was silent and seemingly in deep contemplation for the rest of the day, with her only requesting that Rahu remain with her the rest of the night, with her responding to any of Rahu’s question with silence, Schorl, that had been eavesdropping into the room, surprisingly held its own tongue…perhaps owing to the sounds that had left its operator in a cold sweat that it had heard from said room. 

It was that day that an odd…bond of sorts formed between the Lady of Romanesque and the Hush, the pair coming to spend time together discussing matters that left those who overheard them more than a little uneasy as they fled the talking pair.

28. She has a much higher alcohol tolerance than one would suspect on their first look of her, with Shalom easily being able to out drink most ordinary people and Sinners alike, with only the more heavy drinkers such as Zoya, Pacassi (When the mood strikes her), Demon (Again, when the mood strikes him), and Bai-Yi, being able to reliably out drink her. 

That said, when she does manage to drink too much it is not readily apparent, she has long since mastered the art of hiding any visible signs of intoxication, even the subtle signs are held tight under her grip, with the only reliable sign that has been found being how clingy she becomes around those she feels safe around when she is intoxicated. 

At a rather low level of intoxication she would prefer to brush herself against them, with a mid level being characterized by her latching on to their arm or holding their hand, and at a severe level of intoxication she will have them put their arm around her, and latch onto their side as she nuzzles into them. 

The problem comes with her not wanting to let go of the one she has latched on to, with Rahu and the Chief having found themselves being pinned to a bed, chair, or any other piece of furniture that can support them by the drunken Hush as she falls asleep atop them, Christina having been spared the fate due to Shalom trying to maintain an image of a reliable older sister around her. 

Though, the Chief and Rahu are not alone in having to deal with an intoxicated Hush, as at one point the Chief was informed that she was required in the Garden’s group dorm by a somewhat baffled looking Sumire. 

Upon arriving in the dorm, she was met with the sight of the Sinners of the Garden looking on in dumbfounded shock as their Mentor was pinned to her bed by Shalom, the Poppy of the Garden shooting a dumbfounded look at the Chief as she approached, with her heaving a sigh as she began the process of trying to get the intoxicated Hush off of a flustered Coquelic. 

Only to be pulled down and pinned by her as well, with the Flowers either chuckling silently at the scene of the Mentor scolding the Chief for getting both of them pinned, or trying to find a way to get them out of their situation. 

Eventually, after much trial and error, they decided to utilize the most tried and true method of dealing with a drunken Shalom. 

They called Rahu and Christina. 

The pair arrived and, with a somewhat ashamed look on Christina’s face and an exasperated look on Rahu’s own face, managed to pry her off of the Chief and Coquelic before they carried her away to her room.

As for why Shalom was drunk that day, they would later learn that she had been having a conversation with Oak Casket as they drank what they had both assumed was a wine with a low alcohol content.

It did not, in fact, have a low alcohol content.

Where they got the wine, no one could ever figure out, though Nightingale and the Chief had a sneaking suspicion that it involved a certain supply office manager, who had taken a couple of days off to allow for the heat to di-*Ahem* to recuperate from a head cold. 

29. While everyone is aware that Shalom has a vast collection of records, most are unaware of just how many records she actually owns, with her having not only several storage racks filled with them, but also a storage unit full of containers filled with duplicated of the ones in her room, the transferal of it from the surface unit to the Bureau was…an adventure in its own right.

Despite this frankly absurd number of records, Shalom has listened to each of them,and can even recite which songs are on each of them just by glancing at the abbreviated designation she has marked each of them with.

In addition to records for her vinyl player, she also owns a large number of cassettes, disks, and even digital copies of each of the songs she has on her records should something happen to them. 

She also attends concerts and live performances whenever she gets the chance, typically draggin Christina, Rahu, and or the Chief along with her to the performance in question, though she has also extended an invitation to a rather dumbfounded Coquelic as well, the Garden’s Mentor has yet to give her a reply to the offer.

30.  It is rather well known that she has something of an…odd relationship with the Mentor of the Garden, the pair able to go from amicably drinking tea together, to Coquelic attempting to throttle Shalom as the Hush smiles at her. 

On one hand, Coquelic does appreciate how Shalom’s little scheme allowed her flowers and her to slip free from the Underground and to find a new home, but at the same time she is…decidedly less than pleased with the method that Shalom aided them, as well as how unapologetic she has been for the pain it caused her Flowers. 

On the other hand, Shalom has a rather sizable amount of respect for not only the sheer power and skill that Coquelic possess, but also how she was able to wrest control of not only her own fate, but the collective fates of the rest of the Garden as well, an act which has earned her no small amount of admiration and, to an extent, envy from the dread Hush. 

The pair have shown that, despite the occasional acts of hostility, they are more than able to have a working relationship between them, with the pair having come to work together to deal with any threat against the Chief or their makeshift home…that their methods are not what the Chief would approve of is simply a sacrifice they have deemed necessary to make for the greater good of her safety. 

By combining the Garden’s, the 9th Agency’s, and Shalom’s own resources, along with the occasional input from various other Sinners, they have been able to locate and remove many potential threats before they could take any form of action against the Chief or the Bureau, the majority of said threats vanishing without being seen again, while others suffer a myriad of…‘accidents’ that can not be traced back to any of the involved parties. 

The sheer efficiency with which they are able to operate is further proof of just how terrifying a force they are capable of becoming when they are not at each other’s throats, making it a rather sad thing that it only seems to happen under such…morbid circumstances. 

Or whenever the Chief sits them down and forces them to work together so she can get some peace and quiet.

31. While Shalom can claim to be a woman of many talents, one talent that has always evaded her, outside of driving, is the art of ice skating, something that she has tried time and again to remedy to…very little success. 

Her multiple attempts at learning the art have led to her having to either visit the medical wing for treatment for bruising, or to go to her room and spend a while laying down as she recovers from the aches caused by several falls to the ice. 

Many times she has managed to convince the Chief or Rahu to assist her in the matter, Christina having long given up on the matter and declared it a hopeless endeavor, with the pair rapidly approaching agreeing with her, especially given how many times she has dragged them down with her.

That many of those falls have led to them being in compromising positions is something Shalom claims no responsibility for, something that the Chief and Rahu are uncertain of the validity of, due in no small part to how Shalom is always smiling and wearing a faint blush during these incidents. 

32. She has an odd relationship with Summer, with Shalom having subtly leaked several pieces of Paradeisos technology and information to the genius sinner as a means of allowing for the Bureau to gain a leg up on Paradeisos and to develop their own Anti-Mania technology, something which Summer has been making many breakthroughs with, the rapid growth being explained as her having a bout of inspiration and her general eccentric nature. 

The only request she has had for Summer is for her to find a way to either replicate, or to take control of, the Schorl that is constantly with her, an additional caveat being that she wants it to speak in the Chief or Rahu’s voice when relaying information to her, something which Summer is treating as an additional challenge.

As for how she managed to make the notoriously eccentric genius work with her, that can be chalked up to a rather sizable amount of expensive chocolate, anime (that a curious Shalom has been coerced into watching with Summer), manga, and many other treats, the promise being that so long as she makes progress, Summer will continue to receive these care packages. 

On one hand, the Chief is rather cross with Shalom for going behind her back on this matter, but on the other hand, Summer has made a rather sizable amount of progress with aid from Eureka, Vanilla, and Dreya, and she has been on much better behavior since the arrangement began. 

With the addition of the Bureau not having to pay for any of this, the Chief has begrudgingly allowed for the deal to continue, under the stipulation that it be closely monitored to insure that nothing goes wrong.

33. She has a rather sizable amount of wealth to her disposal, enough to be in the upper elite of Dis, due in no small part to large amounts of passive income that come from her many investments in wealthy companies, along with her running several shell corporations from the shadow as a means of further supplementing the rather generous amount of wealth Paradeisos has allowed her to draw from. 

A rather large amount of this wealth is pooled into accounts for Rosa, Christina, the Chief, Rahu, and rather surprisingly Coquelic and Langley, with everything being arranged for them to receive access to these accounts should she die.

Rosa, Christina, the Chief, and Rahu, would be set to receive a rather sizable amount of wealth to their name, as well as controlling shares in the companies she has founded, along with control of her investments.

Coquelic’s account is different as it contains a mixture of money, as payment for a final contract, which is also included in an email set to be sent should she die, and a rather large amount of rare and exotic flower seeds.   

Langley’s would not just include a rather large amount of money, but also several flash drives and files filled with all of the information that she has amassed over her rather lengthy stay within Paradeisos, similar files and drives being placed within Rahu, Christina, Coquelic, and the Chief’s own vaults as well, with the hope being that they would finish what she started when she dies.

She has also included several cans of bug spray, particularly designed to kill spiders, and a guide on how to make better tasting coffee within Langley’s vault, with Christina’s containing a sizable amount of novels and aids for her work, with Rahu, Rosa, and the Chief having similar personal gifts awaiting them as well. 

She has also left behind a single bank account for Paradeisos themselves to access, with a flash drive loaded with enough Trojan Horse viruses to fry the servers of a third of Dis, all carefully concealed behind what amounts to her final report to her superiors. 

34. She owns a variety of outfits that she has never quite had the time or reason to try on, ranging from casual everyday wear, to business attire, to formal party attire, alongside other things that one would not normally consider her one to possess, such as maid outfits and lingerie. 

After she came to take up residence in the Bureau, she began to form a habit of trying on each of these unused outfits, or convincing one of those she is close with to model them for her, as she uses them as a dress up doll. 

An example of which was Rahu, who found herself the center of an impromptu fashion show that started with her in a rather formal suit, it was a bit too tight but otherwise quite comfortable…though Shalom and the Chief spent a rather absurd amount of time looking at her before she was bid to try on the next outfit…a maid outfit that was much too tight and small that had her glaring daggers at a blushing Chief and Shalom. 

Granted, the Chief was not exempt from becoming a part of the show, though she found herself with much more…lascivious clothing placed into her arms courtesy of Shalom, who had an oddly hungry gleam to her eyes as she watched the Chief vanish within a side room to don her new attire. 

After seeing her walk out, clad in a much more revealing maid outfit, which was quite the achievement given how the one she had worn looked on her, Rahu felt no small amount of sympathy for the woman, something that soon became pity as she saw the rest of the clothes that Shalom had in mind for her to wear. 

From an admittedly rather tasteful cocktail dress, though none of them could get the zipper to go up all the way, to a uniform resembling what a school teacher would wear, and even a copy of what the Hush usually wore with colors suited to compliment the Chief, something Rahu also found herself trying on…though it was several sizes too small for her. 

Of course, Shalom also joined in, the scene of her wearing a Sailor Scout uniform from an anime that Summer had shown her, left both Rahu and the Chief gaping as they tried to process the sight in front of them, yet little time had they to acclimate to the scene before another blow to their mental state came when Shalom, after spending close to 30 minutes within the closet, entered her room clad in a school girl uniform of all things.

It took approximately several long minutes for the Chief and Rahu to process what they were seeing, with the pair blushing heavily as Shalom smiled to herself at their reaction, knowing fully well that she had many more things to show them.

It is safe to say that both of them needed to take a very lengthy, and very cold shower when they fled to their respective rooms amidst Shalom’s quiet chuckling. 

35. She has joined several other Sinners in keeping an eye on the chief and making sure she does not overwork herself too much, with her method of getting her to stop being to simply walk into the office, grab her by the wrist, and pull her away from her computer and off to either of their rooms.

When that does not work, she will resort to decidedly more underhanded methods, such as slipping into the office via one of the hidden passages, putting her hands over her eyes and telling her that it is time to go to sleep as she waits for her to surrender.

Another option is to utilize the most tried and true method, that being the NHH method, which involves sicking either Nightingale or Hecate and Hella on the Chief, with said method ending in her either being drug out of her office by the Adjutant, often still in her chair, or being bullied into going to sleep by Hecate’s pleading and Hella’s cursing as she chews her out. 

But should all of the above fail, should all seem lost in this endeavor, then Shalom has perfected a final tired and true method of forcing the Chief to relax, one that, during her first attempt almost ended with her becoming a head shorter courtesy of a rather infuriated Sumire. 

The method in question? 

Step 1: Walk into the office. Utilizing passages is not necessary as the sound of approaching heels clicking on the floor and knocking on the door adds a valuable psychological factor to the approach.

Step 2: Do not respond to any of the Chief’s questions, merely meet her gaze with a smile and walk towards her, navigate around her desk and push her back towards the wall behind her. 

Step 3: Utilize greater than average strength to force her to remain in the chair by pinning her to ii, typically done by straddling her lap. 

Step 4: Lean in close to her ear and begin to hum a lullaby as you stroke her hair, and rub her upper back, certain fragrance perfumes also assist in this method, particularly ones including lavender. 

Step 5: Wait for her to give in and then wheel her out of the office and towards her room. 

So far this method boasts the 2nd highest success rate out of her other methods of coercing the Chief into resting, the highest being the NHH method, though other Sinners boast of having more successful ones…granted one of them involves rendering her unconscious and another involves paralyzing her, but they still work, thus the Hsush shall not stop until she perfects a method of getting the Chief to cease overworking herself.

Her current approach being to simply insure that there is no reason for her to overwork herself, with her providing aid on matters that would otherwise take up too much of the Chief’s time, though the Chief is yet hesitant to fully trust her with much of her work, she has so far allowed for the help. 

Only time will tell if this method works though. 

36. She has a curiosity regarding the various other nations that exist beyond the walls of Dis, something that has led to her gathering as much information and memorabilia from those nations that she is capable of. 

She regularly searches out any of the Sinners from foreign lands to speak with regarding their former homes, such as Pacassi and her long vanished hometown, Eirene and Fraser, KawaKawa and Stargazer for WhiteSands, or OwO and Goldion Ville.

It has become a small dream of hers to one day visit the lands beyond the walls of Dis and see what the world is like outside of the reach of Paradeisos and herself, though she does not want to go alone, so she has decided that she will try and take Rosa, Rahu, Christina (and of course where christina goes, Thistle goes.), and or the Chief with her come the chance to slip away.

But for now she will settle with enjoying what trinkets and information she can from those distant lands. She is particularly fond of the chess set that Eirene had brought over from her home city and the paper lantern that OwO made for her. 

37. Similar to Langley, she has many times made use of the skills of the Phantom Thief pair of Priscilla and Tetra, though she has never directly spoken to them, instead utilizing multiple online accounts and middle-men to hire them. 

The pair have long since ceased attempting to investigate just who it is that is behind all of the jobs that Shalom has given them, their previous attempts having ended with the pair finding a flash drive tucked into a drawer that contained their…toys, during a rather passionate moment.

Their session of intimacy being cast aside as they investigated what was on the flash drive, the pair soon finding themselves clinging onto one another as they saw a file containing both videos and images of them going about their daily lives, as well as on their missions, even their homes outside of the Bureau, including safe houses even the Chief was unaware of. 

Amidst the flurry of images and videos was a single document, a simple text file that contained words which managed to send a chill through their cores. 

“I would advise you to not bite the hand that feeds you, I harbor no malice towards you at the moment…but if you continue to pry into things best left unknown…then I will be forced to take much more direct action against you. 

The presence of this hard drive should be proof enough of what I am capable of, as well as the extent of my influence, and be advised that what you see here is but a fraction of the data I have gathered on the two of you. 

But that is neither here nor there at the moment, and I would truly hate to sully the wonderful working relationship we have at the moment, and in the same vein lose two exceptionally useful allies, thus I will take no action against you at the moment.

For now, I would advise you to hold one another close, perhaps enjoy the wine you have stored away in your cupboard. It is a wonderful vintage that pairs quite well with the dark chocolate that Tetra purchased a couple of days ago. 

Take some time off to process this information, don’t worry about anything, your superior at the Bureau is a kind woman, she won’t pry too much, and you have likely received a rather sizable transfer to your account for a job well done in regards to your last few missions from me. 

With that said, I must be going, I have a great many things to attend to that require my personal attention, though before I go, I have to admit that I was impressed by the variety of toys you possess. My own collection seems paltry in comparison…perhaps I should remedy that.

Sincerely X.”

The pair would take their mysterious benefactors' advice and spend the next few days with each other, not only scouring their homes and cell for bugs, but also in trying to bury the terror that the flash drive caused them. 

That the damn thing vanished the next day, only further heightened their fears of this unknown X. 

Curiously, the days following this incident would see Shalom spend a rather lengthy amount of time browsing certain…illicit sites in search of new additions for her own collection, that she asked Rahu, Rosa (Who she communicated with via sharing her screen in a call or by phone), and the Chief their opinion on the objects in question, is something 2 of the 3 mentioned would very much like to forget .

38. Upon learning that Peggy and Joan were two of the musicians whose tapes and records she possessed, she took time out of her schedule to ask for their autograph’s on the tapes and records in question, paying them quite handsomely in return.

She has likewise requested recording of several other musician Sinners performances, from Dudu, who spent several minutes in dumbfounded silence at just how much Shalom offered her before energetically shaking her hand and running off to get started, to Echo and her saxophone, the young musician being ecstatic to record a tape for someone at last. 

Whether or not the music is any good by the standards of the masses is of no concern to Shalom, all that matters is that it is her choice to listen to and enjoy it, and not the whims of her former masters, with it also serving a memento of some of the more vibrant souls present within the Bureau. 

39. Given her fixation on spreading happiness, and Shalom’s desire for happiness, it is a fair assumption to say that she has something of a relationship with Serpent, with the serpentine Sinner having taken upon herself the challenge of making Shalom give her a genuine smile through any means necessary. 

As a result of this, Shalom has many times found herself given a front row seat to the shows that Serpent puts on within the Bureau, the serpentine Sinner having pulled out every stop during her shows to try and coerce as much genuine emotion as she can from Shalom, with the Hush often finding herself feeling emotionally drained and yet deeply satisfied after each performance. 

She has also met the monstrous snake that Serpent keeps as a pet, granted their meeting involved it slithering through the vents and into her room as she was reading a book, but unlike many of her fellows she did not immediately panic and was instead able to keep the colossal snake busy until Serpent could arrive to recover it.

Though it did take them a rather long while to convince the snake to uncoil itself from around her and her chair, especially given that it seemed to be enjoying the story she was reading aloud to it. 

That is not to say it is an entirely one-sided deal, as Serpent has come to find herself with enough money in her account to be able to afford the sun lamps she has wanted for a long while, with Shalom also taking upon herself the duty of babysitting Serpent’s snake when the woman has to leave it behind on a mission. 

She has also aided Serpent in her quest to make the Chief happy, not only through funding but also by helping her in researching a rather large variety of means to try and appease the woman in question.

The Chief has since come to expect that whenever Serpent has a show, she will find herself being seated near the front with Shalom on one side, Eirene on the other, and Rahu and Christina as far away from the giant snake that accompanies Serpent as possible. 

40. She gets cold easily due to her fragile nature, her heavy coat helps her with it to an extent, but during particularly cold or windy days, she needs to wear layers to the point that she needs several minutes to pry off all of them when she is out of the cold, otherwise she will begin to overheat. 

In addition to getting cold easily, she also has a rather weak immune system, even with Paradeisos medicine at her back, thus she can easily fall ill during cold weather, leading to her being bedridden or consigned to the medical wing for several days before her condition stabilizes. 

As a result of this, she tends to avoid leaving the warmth of the Bureau, or even her room for that matter, during such weather unless her presence is requested by the Chief for some matter, though even then she will demand heavy reparations for her presence. 

Typically, said reparations will involve the Chief pampering her while she recovers from whatever illness has come to plague her, even should she be given medication to treat it, she will still request that the Chief stay with her till she is fully recovered. 

That is not to say she fairs any better during hot weather, as she has to wear sunscreen or carry an umbrella to avoid sun burns during the intense heat, with her trying to minimize her exposure to the intense sunlight as much as she can to avoid heat sickness. 

It is safe to say that she enjoys the more mild weather of spring or the cool and yet not freezing weather of fall as opposed to winter or summer, with those being the months she is able to enjoy the sights of the city and the world before she is forced to flee into cover at the changing weather. 

41. She once requested Enfer to make use of her ability to try and sculpt something that could elicit genuine fear from her, with the artist devoting a rather obscene amount of time and effort towards the matter, Shalom funding her ventures as the sculptor tried everything she could.

Eventually, Enfer managed to create something that managed to provoke a reaction from Shalom, the exact nature of the work that managed to provoke a feeling of unease and distress within Shalom such that she was visibly unnerved is unknown however, as Shalom had any visual images of the work removed as she took it to a secure and hidden space within her room.

None but the Hush and the Sculptor themselves have seen just what was made that day, and Enfer refuses to share any information on the matter, the Mistress of Fear herself feeling no small amount of unease whenever she recalls the work she made, and sheer distress it caused to flicker through the normally blank faced Shalom as she looked upon it. 

No threat was needed, no promise of revenge or wrath, nor was a bribe needed, only a glance at Shalom and at the artwork she had made was needed to bid her tongue to stay silent on the matter. 

An oddity is that after the piece was finished and hidden away, the pair tried to spend as much time with the Chief as possible, as though something compelled them to do so…perhaps…no, it is better that road be left unwalked. 

42. She is a regular listener to Eleven’s radio show, and is exceptionally fond of the radio host herself, finding her show to be the perfect thing to listen to as she focuses on work that has either kept her up late, or has awoken her exceptionally early.

Eleven is more than a little wary of the Hush, especially given the rumors she has heard of the woman, particularly from the agents of the Garden and various others, though at the same time she cannot ignore the way Shalom has spoken so highly of her, and the several times she has called in to her show to speak with her whenever she needed to take a breather during her work.

That said, Eleven wishes that the next time Shalom asks to take her photo, she does not have the flash on, especially given that the mirror she was standing beside managed to reflect it and disorientate both of them for several minutes. 

43. She very much enjoys sleeping in on the days she has nothing to do though not quite to the extent of Coquelic, who prefers to spend almost the entire day in bed when there is nothing for her to focus on, with her trying to catch up on any sleep she has been forced to miss as a result of her work.

Whenever someone attempts to awaken her from this slumber they will typically either be met by her Mark blazing in one of her eyes as she glares at them, or with her reaching out to pull them into bed with her, something that Rahu, Christina, Rosa, and the Chief have been the victims of before. 

The problem is that once she has a grip on them, and has begun to fall asleep, she very much refuses to relinquish her grip on them, with her poor victims having to either wait for her to awaken, or for them to find some way to wake her up.

Such as carrying her to, and proceeding to drop her into a tub of either warm or cold water, something that Rahu had to resort to at one point when something came up and Shalom was needed on one of those days.

She proceeded to learn that while Shalom is frail, she is still capable of throwing surprisingly heavy objects with no small amount of force at someone, particularly when they have their back turned to her. 

On an unrelated note, she had to see Iron and Anne for some aspirin to help with a headache she gained that day, where it came from she would not say, only that both the source of it, and the headache itself, were exceptionally annoying.

44. Shalom is not counted among the “Sane People Of The Bureau” as the group of Nightingale, Cinnabar, and recently Matilda is called within the Bureau by both staff and sinner, this is no small part due to her past as the Hush and her fixation on the Chief, along with the extremes she is willing to go to in order to achieve her goals. 

That said, she is still numbered among the “Somewhat Sane People Of the Bureau,” along with the likes of Langley, Zoya, and so on. As while she may not be the most sane of individuals, with Shalom even confessing such a thing herself due to her skewed view on morals and how she was brought up by Paradeisos, she is still more sane than most of the staff and sinners alike and is thus a candidate for leadership and advice should any of the Sane People Of The Bureau be indisposed after something occurs to effect the Chief…or when the chief needs to be overruled and or forced to take a break. 

45. She has a deep seated fascination with the Immortals (Dreya, Vanilla, and Mantis) due in no small part to their own contributions towards paving the way for Dis to be founded by Keylan during the expedition into the Perishing Star, along with the wisdom and knowledge they hold regarding not only the star, but also what they can recall of the world before Dis was founded. 

This is one of the few point where she and Paradeisos are in agreement, the information the Immortals possess has already caused several breakthroughs in regards to how the Perishing Star is viewed, along with information regarding both Mania and the effect it has had on the environment of the land around the star. 

As such, Shalom has been asked by Paradeisos to keep an eye on the Immortals and to help act as an intermediary to exchange information with them, especially in regards to the subjects of the Illusory Moon and it seeming intelligence, alongside of information of the old world that was lost during the years before the Expedition breached into the Star’s domain. 

She tends to speak most with Dreya as opposed to Mantis and Vanilla, as she find the astronomer to be the easiest to converse with of the group as opposed to the survivalist and logistician, though she has orders to try and gather information from Vanilla due to her being a largely unknown part of the Keylan Expedition, alongside of her understanding of the temporal hellstorm that rages within the Star’s domain and her ability to help in reconstructing some of the ruined monitoring stations around 00. 

46. Shalom was rather surprised when she learned that the Chief refuses financial backing and aid from her sinners, alongside of only taking Hella and Hecate with her on her missions, the latter annoying her much more than the former due to potential safety risks.

As a result of this, she is one of many that have brought up the idea of the Chief taking other sinners aside from just Hella and Hecate with her during missions as while she may have success so far with just the pair, she also has tendency to run into situations that heavier firepower would be greatly useful in contending with.

As a result of this, she and several others, including Langley, Eirene, Demon, and Rahu, have worked to put together a means of coercing the Chief to accept further aid on her missions from those who are capable of doing so, with the more contaminated and mania sensitive sinners having to be kept on the sidelines due to contamination and potential risk of going full maniac allowing for them to narrow the suspects down. 

That they have even been able to sway Nightingale to their side is proof of their devotion to this cause, though so far they have had little luck in convincing the chief to accept further help…at least willingly as they have several times simply either pulled rank on her (Langley) or threatened her with withholding her coffee and snacks (Nightingale) if she did not take aid with her on some missions. 

Shalom would go with the Chief on missions herself, if she did not feel that doing so would run the risk of allowing Paradeisos too much information on the Chief and potentially causing the both of them future headaches.

47. Despite her fragility, Shalom possesses rather impressive healing capabilities, though not to the extent of Hella, she is still capable of surviving many wounds that would have been fatal to others, with Schorl furthering her healing abilities with its own technology. 

She cannot regrow limbs or digits, nor can she regenerate organs, or is she immune to illness, but she is still capable of taking a stab or bullet and surviving, at least assuming it is not directly to her heart or brain, something she considers one of the few useful modifications Paradeisos made to her after she became the Hush. 

48. She has an odd relationship with subjects unknown to her, as she is both wary of, and yet also fascinated by, anything that she has know knowledge or comprehension of, something which is quite rare given her eidetic memory and the amount of information she was taught by Paradeisos and has learned on her own. 

This leads to her starting ventures into unknown subjects cautiously at first as she tests the waters before she begins to dive into them in full, hungrily devouring anything and everything she can on the subject until she feels that she is satisfied with it. 

This is not something born of scholarly desire, but rather out of a desire to know what she can use and what can be used against her, alongside of it being something that she has the ability to choose to indulge in without being ordered to do so, it is also something she does to further cultivate her seemingly all knowing image to instill both respect and unease in those around her. 

Among the subjects she has studied are things such as tailoring, animal husbandry (Christina learned far too much regarding breeding habits of animals when she was researching it), entomology (She felt it wise to learn more about her arachnid foes), cooking, and cocktail making. 

49. It is a standing rumor in the Bureau that Shalom’s coat is able to repair itself, as no matter what is done to it, be it burned or slashed, it is always in immaculate condition the next time anyone sees her wearing it. 

The truth is much less fanciful though, as Shalom simply owns many copies of her coat that she can use when she is unable to fix one of them or have a tailor fix it for her, with her having allocated a rather large sum simply to replacing and repairing her coats when they get damaged. 

She at one point had to have a whole new batch made for her as, despite not being contaminated when the Garden and Langley unleashed a hell of spiders into her room, she one day went to put on one of her coats and found a rather large tarantula inside of it. 

How it got there, she had no idea, only knowing that it was the doing of someone in the Bureau, especially given she has spider-proofed her room to the best of her ability since the ‘prank’ pulled on her.

Needless to say, she promptly had Schorl burn each of her coats for safety reasons. 

50. She is very well aware of the irony of her name's meaning and of her profession and the deeds she has committed, with her finding it to be somewhat humorous in a rather dark way, with her using it as a part of several rather dark jokes that she makes when free of Schorl’s gaze. 

51. While Shalom claims to have something of a Black Thumb when it comes to gardening, few know just how bad her attempts at gardening have ended over the course of her attempts at it. 

As not only has she managed to kill the vast majority of her own plants, including ones that should not be easily killable by any stretch of imagination, but she has also managed to, through means known to not even Paradeisos, cause plants that others are tending to on her behalf to die whenever she tries any attempt at caring for them. 

She was particularly upset the day she managed to kill a rose that Rosa had given her, with the maid having to visit the Bureau to console her former employer over the matter, said maid would later confide to the Chief that the flower was artificial and it should not have been possible for it to die. 

52. Shalom very much enjoys egging people on when the chance arises, utilizing her position as a Paradeisian and her own connections to put people who have managed to earn her ire in a position of wishing to strike at her, but being unable to do so.

In particular, she enjoys doing this to high ranking officials or such that try and interfere in her aiding the Chief, finding the expressions they make as they grit their teeth in silent and indignant fury at her to be amusing to no small extent. 

She is confident that should anything occur, Rahu would protect her, though her bodyguard has told her many times to cease her antics or to at least reign in her antics so that she did not have to have her hands on her weapons everytime Shalom meets an official that annoyed her. 

The only response she received from Shalom was an amused smile and the faintest hint of exasperation from Schorl as the Hush went to another meeting with a board of officials, said meeting nearly devolved into a full on brawl due to her pitting them against one another as she sat back and enjoyed the show.

It is safe to say that Rahu has come to dread seeing Shalom smile during meetings. 

53. She has many times commissioned Cassia to make perfume for her, with her finding the perfumers products to be vastly superior to even the perfumes that she would find in luxury stores in Eastside. 

A part of the deal she has with Cassia is an exchange of fragrances so to speak, as she will let the perfumer take samples of her hair to make into perfume in exchange for custom perfumes, though her donations to help Cassia built her own Atelier within the Bureau don't hurt either. 

Cassia considers the perfume she has made from Shalom’s hair to be an oddity, not just due to it smelling of a form of flower she has not smelled before, her best guess being some form of lily, with a rather spicy undercurrent of something akin to cinnamon, but also the feeling of peace it seems to bring the one wearing it, though she claims the feeling of peace feels…unnatural to her.

The perfumer would work to refine the perfume made of Shalom’s hair for several months before she seemed to reach some form of breakthrough, though it did not seem to be a desirable one as she soon destroyed the product and went back to her earlier iteration of the scent. 

Why she did so, she would never say, but the look of pity and unease in her eyes when she looks at Shalom since her experiment ended, tells a tale all of its own. 

54. She finds Hella to be rather adorable, though she is admittedly somewhat envious of the sheer amount and depth of emotions the young Syndician can feel, along with the ease at which she is able to display and switch between them.

Nonetheless, she has come to be rather fond of the gremlin’s antics, with her considering it a pleasant interruption to her day whenever she sees the hellion causing chaos within the Bureau, with her having gone so far as to aid her in her escapes and antics for her own amusement. 

She is also oddly protective over the Syndician, as she has come to the conclusion that Hella is a vital component to the Chief’s happiness, and a valuable means of keeping her safe, and as such she takes many steps to insure that the little hellion is safe during her outings.

Hella once confronted her on the matter, surprising Shalom with her awareness of her involvement, the pair speaking for a while on their thoughts on the matter, with the Rat Queen Of Syndicate surprising Shalom with her maturity and intelligence during their conversation. 

In the end Hella agreed to endure her meddling and watch, in exchange for her monitoring and protecting Ninety-Nine as well, with the gremlin threatening Shalom with going to the Chief and ruining her image in the Chief’s eyes if anything happened to the Berserker.

Shalom had chuckled at the statement, an honest chuckle of amazed amusement at the girl's audacity, before she acquiesced to her demand with grace, smiling to herself as she re-evaluated her opinion on the girl who finished her tea before she left. 

Before Hella had left the room, however, she had asked her how it was she deduced that it was her that was involved, something which made Hella pause before she turned to look at her over her shoulder and said-

“I had a hunch it was someone high up, didn't know who though, so I took a gamble on it being you and you confirmed it for me.”

Shalom had been incredulous for a moment before she began to chuckle once more, basking in both her surprise and the genuine emotion she felt as she watched the young woman leave, silently vowing to herself to see the full potential of the young girl one day.

55. And the final one, is that Shalom fully expects to never truly achieve her happy ending and to die before she can be fully free of the shadow of Paradeisos, to never be able to watch movies with the Chief, see Rahu freed from her hatred, watch as Christina and Thistle grow together, or witness Coquelic and her Garden claim their own pound of flesh from both the Underground and Paradeisos.

 Because of this, everything she has done and continues to do is her rigging the board as much in favor of the Chief and those she feels deserve it as possible, all to insure that once she is gone they will still be safe and can reach their own happiness.

She knows that nothing she has done can make up for even a fraction of the sins she has committed, but at the very least she hopes that these sins can pave the way to heaven for her loved ones while she descends into hell where the Hush belongs. 

She could burn with a smile on her face, so long as she knows they will be safe and happy.

And with any luck, she will drag Paradeisos down to the depths of hell with her, so that they can all burn along with the monster they created. 

Author’s Note: Well this has been a lengthy one, I apologize for the rather long delay with this chapter, life, writer’s block, and other projects kept me busy and left me little time to truly focus on this chapter, but I am quite content with it and feel that it is at a good enough point to call it for now. 

We hope you all enjoyed this mess of a chapter, and we hope to hear your own headcanons and thought on Shalom if you wish to share them with us. 

That said, we are going to try and update either our other PtN fic with a Shalom Chapter, or our Genshin Fic.

Either way, stay safe and take care all.

[nomorefstogive]

Funfact, there us a yugioh archetype based on dark souls. Look up ashened. It would be amazing to see your reactions and analysis on it if you want to.

Hello, again I am sorry for the delay with this, I will be answering both this ask and your previous one regarding the Umbrella Academy Dance Off idea in this one reply.

First, let's start with the most humorous of the pair, that being the dance off, I am admittedly not that experienced with Umbrella Academy, but the image that post has painted in my mind left me chuckling for quite a while after reading it.

As for how such a thing would occur in a SAGAU setting...hmmm...I have two ideas for the matter, the first involves Venti's one true love and the other involves the one thing you can always expect to occur when such wildly devoted individuals over hear something and make an assumption.

The first one, as I stated, involves the one true love of the Tone-Deaf Bard; Booze. To be exact, it involves the acolytes getting drunk off their asses at a celebration and someone, perhaps even the reader themselves, inadvertently starting the dance off as a means of showing off for the reader who, along with the other sober participants, is watching with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment at the mess before them.

The second involves the acolytes being sober...well...oaky all of them but Venti who is rarely, if ever truly sober, with them misunderstanding something the reader says and trying to impress them at a ball or other such form of celebration, with the ensuing chaos being a game to try and court the readers favor...or make them die of embarrassment and laughter, they are not certain because while some of them can dance...others...well...the kindest descriptor is an epileptic chicken with a strobe light tied to its face running around with a sparkler shoved somewhere sensitive...in other words, a mess.

As for the Ashened, it does indeed remind me a great deal of the Soulsborne series, the naming schemes for the characters, along with the link to fire and a constant cycle of conflict, with their souls having been trapped within an unending cycle of battle for a nation and cause long swept under the ashes and dust of the past.

The character designs seem like they would be quite fitting in the gritty and grim setting of the Soulsborne verse as well, along with the mechanic the main boss of the deck seems to have involving consuming the souls of the fallen to enhance its own strength. which calls to mind the Lords of Cinder from DS3...a dragon Lord Of Cinders...oh that is a nightmare that will haunt me for some time.

Veidos...hmmm...why do I suddenly hear Dark Eater Midir's theme?

The idea of them being trapped in a cycle does make me wonder just how powerful each of them would be when they are taken out of their ashen city, as, assuming we are following the logic of the Souls genre, they would have been growing in power and skill with each life and death as they gained the souls of their fallen comrades to further fuel their struggle against extinction made flesh.

Which also asks just how powerful Veidos would be if he does indeed absorb all of the fallen inhabitants souls should he be pushed too far, with the surge of power likely placing him on par with, if not superior, to the Archons in terms of sheer destructive power, and that is assuming he does not also gain their memories and power to further enhance himself.

I am curious as to just what would happen should their cycle end, as it seems to be caging Veidos and preventing it from taking any actions against the rest of the world due to it appearing to be trapped with them, assuming I am reading this correctly, so I wonder if the cycles breaking would herald him being released on the world in full, or if they would have worn him down over the aeons spent battling him.

Regardless of that matter, the idea of them having been fighting for so long that not only has history forgotten their names, but it is likely their entire nation has long been swept from the maps, which would cause no small amount of chaos should it be discovered as the nations would likely try and search for whatever wealth and power is hidden in the ruins of the nation, only to be pulled into the cycle, likely being viewed as enemies by the people of Obsidim.

I feel that by the time they are able to bridge the language barrier or convince them that they are not on the side of Veidos, that iteration of the cycle would likely have reached its conclusion, with those dying being enveloped by the same power that seared the Ashened warriors souls into their city and thus joining in bein g trapped in the cycle until it is at last broken with Veidos' death.

Something that will not come easy.

That is all I have for now, sorry for the delay with this again, take care and stay safe.

[nomorefstogive]

Here is another idea. Imagine if we could get to roast the archons. Like a once in a lifetime event, The archon's roast. We get each archon on a panel and we get someone close to them. Even the archons get to roast each other.

Oh hell this is beautiful, I can already picture this happening, maybe courtesy of the Traveler or someone else having pulled them all into the Serenetea pot, one thing leads to another over drinks and soon the roasts start to fly.

From everyone ganging up on Venti about his drinking habits, to them turning on Zhongli over his inability to manage his own finances, to Ei's inability to handle change, to Nahida being too gentle with her people, to Furina's penchant for treating everything like a performance.

Eventually it all just devolves into a constant back and forth that has been spear headed by the likes of Dvalin (Best I could think of for Venti outside of Diluc or Barbara), Xianyun, Miko, Alhaithem or Nihlou, and Clorinde or Neuvilette.

And as this chaos is going on, the Traveler is leaning back in their chair, their face in their hands as they try and suppress a mixture of humor and embarrassment at the scene before them.

What would make it more chaotic is if it occurred during a celebration that includes more than just the aforementioned individuals, with the majority of the Traveler's comrades all being present, each one chiming in their own complaints and roasts, with the Archons retaliating in kind.

"I may be drunk, but at least I don't work till I collapse and have to be dragged away."

"I readily admit that I have issues with my own finances, but at least I am not constantly lying to my family regarding my profession."

"Change is not something that comes naturally to me, I admit. But at least I don't shed fur everywhere when the season changes, or worship a long dead God."

"Gentle I may be, but at least I can express myself openly, and not loose myself to my work. I also don't have a complex regarding my creator, nor have I attempted to be what I am not."

"Oh. You really want to go there? Well at least I didn't kill my friends father in front of her, or loose control over my own element and have to rely on a mere 'usurper' to get it back."

More and more the situation devolves as chaos reigns amidst the roasts and yells, all while Paimon joins the Traveler in hiding her face in her hands.

In a sagau setting, this could occur as a result of a combination of everyone being a little tipsy and a careless word, with the reader simply watching as the chaos breaks out around them, not needing to say a word as all hell breaks loose around them.

At least that is what comes to my mind at the moment, sorry if it is not what you had in mind.