#toss them into the null void

[jester-w-n0n4m3]

The thing

[queensparklekitten]

TIL ae carries null

NESTOR JUST RNG'D ME A KITTEN NAMED SERAPHIM?!?!

[trashland-llamas]

Koala Bear Hug

Ghost and Price picking up that Reader’s about to start his period before he does. They’re not the sort to track his shift in moods or anything like that.

Reader being the sort that you wouldn’t even suspect such a thing, passing pretty well since joining team 141. There’s people from the past who know and are dicks about it. But said people are smart enough to not act a fool when any of Reader’s teammates are around.

But as to his period, there’s small signs. In that he ends up sleeping longer and he becomes more emotive. Shorter fuse. More affectionate and clingy. His movements a bit sluggish; a result of the fatigue and brain fog.

It’s no surprise when Reader sees the two on the couch and decides that they’d make a good pillow. The two sitting side by side, watching the football game on the telly. Not caring for the match, Reader plops right in between them. Head burying into Ghost’s chest and legs wrapped around Price’s thigh.

They just let it happen, not having the heart to scold or reprimand him. Having heard the tossing and turning through the thin ass walls during the night. Hearing how he’d get up and wander the halls for half an hour before trying to sleep again.

Instead, they let him snooze away. Keeping their reactions to a minimum so they wouldn’t wake him. With the time they all spend together, Reader’s freight train like snores are easily tuned out. Ghost trailing his hand up and down his back. Feeling the air puff out from his lips. The vibrations against his chest. While Price rests a hand on Reader’s calf.

He’s bolted awake when Soap and Gaz come crashing in. Gaz having soot all over him. Annoyed by Soap’s antics after helping him with his current contraption. ‘What cat crawled up your ass and died?’ Soap prods, oblivious to Ghost’s glare. It’s withering effect null and void.

It’s when Reader glares at him that he squeaks out an ‘oops, sorry, didn’t know you were napping.’ Internally cooing at Reader’s resemblance to a grumpy kitten. Accidentally proving Soap’s point, Reader’s turns his head back towards Ghost. Rubbing the top of his head along with the side of his face against Ghost’s chest.

Gaz, laughing at Soap, moves around to the back of the couch. Ruffling Reader’s hair. ‘Sleep well, lad.’ Leaving to clean off the soot. Soap joining the two in watching the football match.

[serickswrites]

Hold Back the River

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, water boarding, cruel whumper, self sacrifice, defiant whumpee, strangulation, unclear character status

"Caretaker, no matter what happens don't cry. If you cry they will hurt you. I can't let that happen."

Whumpee had said that hours ago when they had struck up a deal with Whumper that would keep Caretaker physically unharmed. Whumper had agreed enthusiastically on the condition that Caretaker not cry or else the bargain was null and void. Caretaker had tried to voice their protest, but Whumpee spoke over them, agreeing. Whumpee didn't want anything to happen to Caretaker.

But as they watched Whumper move from various methods of torture, leaving Whumpee weak and in pain, Caretaker felt they were fighting to hold back the river of tears that was threatening to overwhelm them. But they couldn't cry. Whumpee had asked them not to.

"Now, Whumpee," Whumper drawled as they tipped over the chair they had lashed Whumpee to, "you have done so well. You haven't begged me to stop once."

"You call this torture? I've had so much worse," Whumpee shot back weakly from the ground. Caretaker could see Whumpee was trembling. But they didn't let on that they were suffering. Caretaker knew Whumpee had to be suffering.

Whumper frowned. "I highly doubt that. Needless to say, I'm going to modify our bargain."

"So not only are you a shitty torturer, you can't even your own bargains. How disgraceful," Whumpee said as they glared up at Whumper. But Caretaker knew better. Caretaker knew that Whumpee was now very afraid.

"No. I'm making you a better bargain, Whumpee. I still won't hurt Caretaker. I keep my word. No, I'm going to make you a bargain that benefits you."

"I'm listening," Whumpee said carefully.

"In all my years working on people, I have never seen anyone not break under this next method. I doubt you will be the one to not break, before you get any ideas. You just have to last five minutes. Five whole minutes without begging. If you do that, I'll let both of you go."

"Deal."

Caretaker's heart was pounding. What did Whumper want to do to Whumpee? They opened their mouth to protest, but Whumper spoke again. "I'm going to give you three tries, Whumpee. Three tries to make it to five minutes. If you make it to five, you're free to go."

"Just get it over with, Whumper, I want to go home. I'm sure Caretaker does, too."

Whumper tossed a towel over Whumpee's face and re-angled the chair. Caretaker's mouth went dry as they realized Whumper planned to waterboard Whumpee. There was no way Whumpee would make it to five minutes.

Whumper grabbed a hose and aimed it at Whumpee's face. "Oh, and Whumpee? If you don't make it to five minutes, I'm going to keep you here until your body gives out. So, give it your best shot. I doubt you'll even last two minutes."

And they turned the water on.

Whumpee sputtered and choked as the water blasted their face. Caretaker strained against their own restraints trying to get to Whumpee. "PLEASE! DON'T YOU'RE KILLING THEM!" Caretaker screamed.

"See how they beg for you, Whumpee? Don't worry, I won't count their begging against you. Thirty seconds now, how are you feeling?"

Whumpee choked and coughed. "Stop," they rasped at last.

Whumper grinned as they turned off the water. "One try down. Total failure on your part. You didn't even make it a minute. I'll let you catch your breath."

Caretaker could see Whumpee's chest heaving as they struggled to breathe under the wet towel. "Whumpee, Whumpee. Say something! Please!"

"'m fine, Careta'er," Whumpee mumbled.

"If you have enough breath to speak, we can begin again." Whumper said as they turned the hose back on.

Whumpee lasted two minutes that time. Their whole body was shaking and they were sobbing as the water was turned off. Hearing Whumpee's cries of pain and terror made Caretaker's eyes well up once more. But they couldn't cry. They had to stay strong for Whumpee. Whumpee had bargained for their safety. They couldn't let that be in vain.

"Two minutes, not bad, Whumpee. Not bad." Whumper stared down at Whumpee with a maniacal glint in their eye. "But still not close enough to five. I'm going to enjoy destroying your body over these next few weeks. Maybe I'll still let Caretaker go when your body gives out. Maybe I'll keep them and force them to watch you to decay. Who knows?"

Whumpee made a low moan in their throat as Whumper spoke. The sound broke Caretaker's heart. Whumpee was fighting against impossible odds for their life. Whumper was beyond cruel.

"Ok, Whumpee, final attempt. Make it a good one. Or not," Whumper smirked as they turned the water back on.

Whumpee sputtered and choked, but they didn't speak. Caretaker could see their clenched fists shaking. But as the first minute went by, Whumpee held strong. Then the second minute went by and Whumpee still didn't speak.

After the third minute, Caretaker began to hope. Whumpee could do this. They would both be free. And then they could take care of Whumpee. They owed their life to Whumpee and they would spend the rest of their life repaying Whumpee.

"Four minutes now, Whumpee, you're doing impressively. Honestly, this is the longest I've seen anyone make it. But I doubt you will make it to five."

Whumpee's whole body began to shake at Whumper's words. But still, they didn't cry out. They continued to cough and choke, their breathing growing more and more ragged.

Whumper frowned. "You have twenty seconds to go, Whumpee. Remember not only your freedom, but Caretaker's freedom rides on this. You'll be letting them down any moment now."

Caretaker's heart fluttered in their chest. Hope built until they felt they couldn't contain it anymore. Whumpee was going to do it. They would both be free. Whumper wouldn't kill Whumpee today.

"Five.....four.....three.....two.....one. Impress--"

"For the love of God, please!" Whumpee cried out at last.

Whumper smirked as they turned off the water. "Congratulations, Whumpee. You survived five whole minutes of waterboarding."

Whumpee didn't say anything as they retched and coughed. And though Caretaker knew they should feel elated, Whumper's smirk and strangely happy demeanor had their blood running cold.

Whumper pulled back the towel off Whumpee's face. They knelt close and stared down into Whumpee's terror filled eyes. "Too bad you won't get to tell anyone what it was like." Whumper grabbed by the neck and began to strangle Whumpee.

"STOP! YOU'RE KILLING THEM! YOU SAID YOU WOULD FREE BOTH OF US!" Caretaker screamed as they watched Whumpee struggle weakly beneath Whumper. Whumpee's eyes were wide with fear, their mouth opening and closing as they desperately begged for air.

"I did say I will free both of you. And I will. I just never said if they would be alive when they were freed."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 2: ghost on the field

word count: 2,001

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Thomas Shelby didn’t make deals lightly. Every conversation, every transaction had a cost. But you had a way about yourself that made him reconsider his usual approach. He didn’t trust easily, and he had been burned enough times to know that the wrong person could send everything to hell. But there was something in you, something he hadn’t quite figured out yet, but it was enough to make him want to keep watching.

When you arrived at the Garrison, he was two seconds away from considering the deal null and void. Perhaps having him on your side really wasn't worth what he thought it'd be, and if it came down to it, he'd try to dwindle down your influence one man at a time.

But then you walked in, coat open despite the winter chill. The first three buttons of your blouse were undone - exposed enough to see the freckles on your chest. You pulled a chair back and poured yourself two fingers of whiskey.

"So this is the ghost," Arthur laughed through the smoke. John stood off to the side, propped against the doorframe. He watched your movements carefully.

Your eyes didn't avert from Tommy's, ignoring their presence all together.

"I take it we have an agreement."

You sipped the beverage slowly until only meager drops were left sliding down the edge of the glass. Arthur stood, circling behind you like a vulture waiting for the stench of death to rise.

"Conditionally," you said, your eyes glimmering with amusement.

"Name your terms." Tommy refilled your glass, and, again, you finished the full serving before answering him.

"How do you plan to show me what possessing you is worth?"

Possessing him, now that was an interesting notion. But if that was how you defined having his loyalty, then he was in no position to argue. You wanted proof - proof that what he was offering wasn't just an empty promise. You stared him down, silently urging him to answer.

"Do we really need her?" Arthur lowered his face down to your cheek.

When the stench of stale smoke reached your nose, you bore your hostility with few words. "Two steps back, Arthur," you said coldly and was met with the sound of his chuckle by your ear.

Arthur's breath caught in his throat at the faint prodding of something by his crotch. He looked down and found a small dagger gripped between your fingers - the tip threatening to tear the seams of his trousers.

Tommy motioned for him to step away. He removed a spare cigarette from his pocket and offered it to you.

You accepted it with a grin and tossed the dagger into your empty glass. That low cackle rumbled as the intensity of Arthur's glare came into sight. You held the cigarette out, and Tommy lit it carefully. Sitting back, you looked up at him through your lashes. "I take it I will have to wait and find out."

Over the next few weeks, Tommy kept his distance, but his eyes were never far from you. You moved through Birmingham with the same quiet confidence, handling your business like it was second nature, no flash, no fuss—just results. Results that funneled back to him at the end of the day, and that was all he cared about. The infamous ghost was now in the open, haunting in all the right places. That was something Tommy respected. The way you worked told him you weren't one to make promises unless you intended to keep them.

You worked your influence from the periphery, always to the side when Tommy made his deals. If someone lied, you knew. If they told the truth, you knew. And if a deal was about to go south, somehow you knew before anyone else.

Tommy caught word that there were newcomers encroaching on their territory. Before it came down to something more... explosive, they arrived at the Garrison. He expected a brief talk. He needed to know how determined they were and where their boundaries lay. Only then would he know how much effort it would require to settle it.

One of the men talked with unphased confidence, rattling on about bringing in more people from London, ones that ultimately would strengthen the Blinder's influence. As he spoke, Tommy felt the tension in his head growing larger. It felt like empty talk, but the names he gave were ones not so easily recognized.

The door to the room parted, and you walked in. Your heels clicked against the worn floorboards with each step, meticulously placing yourself at Tommy's side. The men each studied you, some with obvious stares at the curve of your back. You put your hand on Tommy's shoulder and lowered your lips to his ear, your breath delicately trickling down his cheek like a drop of dew. Arthur and John held back the urge to pull you away.

Your hair fell over your cheek, and the scent of your perfume drifted across Tommy's nose, a distinctly sweet aroma that slowly carried throughout the room.

"He's got a price on his head," you whispered, almost playfully. You never revealed enough for him to use it. You wanted him to wonder, maybe even ask for an explanation, but he played the game well.

Tommy's jaw tightened. Not only was his time being wasted, but now you dared to show yourself. There's a gleam in your eye as you delivered the information, a flicker of lighthearted satisfaction as you watch Tommy's mood shift. He glanced up at you as if to confirm that he understood. In that brief moment, you sense his silent approval.

"Get rid of him."

Before Tommy can respond, you tilted your head again, still close to his skin, and brushed your lips against his cheek. The touch was light but unmistakable, and the warmth lingered longer than he expected. It was a bold move - one that told everyone in the room that you enjoyed every second of how this would play out, a muted chaos that would inevitably bubble to the surface. You straightened your back and glanced at the baffled men across the table before walking out just as boldly as when you arrived.

A crude grin spread across the stranger's face. He pointed towards the door as if you were still standing nearby. "A striking woman you've got there, Mr. Shelby. Keeping the missus around you lot. It's a daring move -"

"Get out." Tommy's words set a chill over the room.

No explanation was needed, and any he was willing to give would be for a later conversation. Arthur roughly grabbed the man's collar and dragged him out of the Garrison. John was quick behind him, tossing the rest out to the street. The second the door shut, Tommy stood. He grabbed your arm and pulled you to the back rooms, swiftly locking it.

He closed his eyes, the strain wearing down on him in your presence. "What was that?"

"You seem suspicious of me, Tom. Did I hit a nerve?" You resisted laughing at his inability to contain his frustration with you. You'd managed to last nearly a month keeping yourself hidden, quietly helping him with his dealings, and only now does he show you what he believes his position to be between you.

In control, no cards on the table, all secrets close to the vest.

"You showed yourself."

"Even ghosts grace others with their presence every now and then. You wanted my help. I gave it to you."

Tommy stared you down. This was the only response he should have expected. Everything you were doing for him was at a price, and the longer it took for him to pay up, the more daring you'd get.

"Don't fucking show yourself again." He put weight into each syllable, slowly approaching you with his finger pointed between your eyes. "I asked you for information, not a fucking show."

You didn't back down. Instead, you met him halfway. "You don't notice, but they all have tells. You could have done all of this without me. You're busy trying to wear them down with... Words. Threats. And so I give you just that. Words to threaten them with."

You pushed in closer.

"Careful, Tommy. Don't make me wait too long for that payment." Your eyes flickered between his. "If you think my words can damage men, imagine what else I could do."

All this time, he'd resisted touching you, but you were walking a tightrope. He took your face in his hand, his fingers squeezing just tight enough to force a pout on your lips. "And what will you do when I have to wear them down with something else? Hm?"

"Then the price goes up. And you'll be out of time."

The dim light from the only remaining lamp casted long shadows down his face, the heavy scent of tobacco and whiskey rolling over your tongue as he held you in place. His movements were deliberate, measured - a predator backing a prize into a corner. He stepped forward, and with each tap of his shoes against yours, you backed up until your back hit the edge of the table.

The mumblings of anticipation didn't show on your face. He was determined to settle this conversation on his terms, and he wouldn't let you leave until it was done. He radiated tension, thick and unyielding.

Tommy's grip shifted ever so slightly, possessive and rough. He held your stare in place, and you felt his thumb dig deep just below the edge of your jaw. You wouldn't flinch. There was no fear, just the same cold gaze he'd grown used to seeing every time you'd watch him during the meetings. He waited for the reaction he wanted.

But you stayed still, and the edge of your lip curled into a grin, the kind of smile that hinted no amount of force was going to make this situation go his way.

"You're no good to me dead. You call yourself a ghost, then act like a bloody ghost. What game are you playing?" His voice was low, rough, and the question hung in the air, unclear as to if it was directed towards you or to some omniscient narrator who would have the answer for him.

"Nothing you're familiar with, Tommy. The game I play requires something you're not quite ready to give me." You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and squeezed, gentle enough for his grip to let up. You closed the short gap, your lips grazing the corner of his grimace. Your breath left a trail of warmth across his cheek until you stopped short of his ear. "Maybe you're too broken to understand the weight of the debt you're racking up with me, but touch me like I'm a fucking ragdoll again, and I will make damn sure the next time you need a cigarette, some whore is going to have to hold it for you."

Tommy pushed against you, mirroring your stance. "You're not as untouchable as you think you are. Show yourself again, and you're headed to the pyre." The words trickled down your spine, and he felt you smile against him in response.

Something about the way you laughed unsettled him, but it was this sound that set his nerves on fire at this very moment - not because it showed him that you were powerful. It was something else.

"Neither are you. If I get tied to the pyre, there will be a trail of petrol puddled around your ankles. I burn," you whispered breathlessly against his ear, knowing fully well that the sensation made him twitch. "You burn."

He pulled back and met your eyes directly. His gaze softened ever so subtly as the quiet understanding passed between you both. Tommy Shelby, for all his power and grit, was playing your game - not his. He wanted to break you, but you were not one who bends easily.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I'm just imagining , for a few hours at least, Macaque wondering if he should even try to rescue Wukong from Azure in the Century Egg AU. After all, he was a shitty mate who caused his expecting partner to lose his baby. He knows Azure would never do that, the Lion loves kids, he would dote on Wukong...

Then Macaque hits himself with reality.

Prev.

yess.

In Macaque's mind, all he's done by coming back is bring more trouble with him. Azure on the other hand has made Wukong literally Empress of the Universe. How could he compete?

I imagine that the shadow monkey has a breakdown once all the gang comes together to plan their next move. Sitting listlessly in the corner of Wukong's hut.

Luckily he's in a room full of critics;

Pigsy: "We have to find a way to get him and the kid out of there!" Sandy: "Mr McQuack has shadow powers - maybe he can sneak in!" Macaque, gloomily: "I can't." Pigsy: "What do you mean you can't!?" Macaque: "All I've done for last nearly two thousand years is hurt Wukong. I hurt him when I left him under that mountain. I hurt him when I attacked the Monk. I hurt him with my death. I literally killed our first child! Azure has made him an Empress... all I've done is made him a widow. Ever since I came back, everything has gone wrong!" Tang: "Now thats not true!" Macaque: "IT IS! I helped bring the Lady Bone Demon back to life and nearly destroyed the world! I got Wukong possessed by her! And Wukong nearly died having Xiaotian! How has me being here made any positive change to his life!?" (*Mortal and immortal eyes avoid Macaque's gaze, all but one.*) Tieshan: "Your scarf." Macaque: "What?" Tieshan: "Your red scarf. The one you wore every day for almost a millennium. The one you died wearing. Where do you think it went after the earth took your body?" Macaque: "Why does that-" Tieshan: "What do you think Wukong wrapped himself in when he set out to make his second child?" Macaque: (*struck silent, eyes widening with realisation*) Marshal Ma, steps forward: "She's correct. Wukong made sure to be buried wearing only items that belonged to you. He thought that in some far-off way, both your Dao could survive in the child if neither of you were truly meant for this world." Macaque: "He... what does that mean? Why would he-" Tieshan: "He loved you Liu'er. He still loves you. Even when you hurt him in possibly the worst way imaginable, he still cried for you. He never stopped loving you." Macaque: (*openly crying*) "He... he would have been better off with me still dead." Xiwangmu: "I must understand something Liu'er Mihou - because you seem to not know yourself; why did you come back?" Macaque: "I..." Xiwangmu: (*gives him a stare that could set a inferno*) Macaque: "I... my ears told me that the soul I had taken was to be reborn. Reunited with Wukong. I wanted to be there to protect them both. I didn't know it meant literally returned as his child when I went searching for it." Sandy: "Explains why you tried so hard for him to let your stay then. You both still wanted a shot at having a family together." Macaque: "I did..." Pigsy, furious/annoyed: "You do. Get it into your head, bub! Wukong is stuck in that throne room in the arms of some creep, who could just decide some day to toss the kid off the cloud if he so pleases! Are you just going to mope here while that happens!?" Macaque, invigorated: "NO!" Pigsy: "Then what are you going to do?!" Macaque: "I'm- I'm going to need Bull." Pigsy: "Not the answer I was looking for but ok." Macaque, turns to the royals: "Emperor, my Lady, I must ask I great favour of you." Jade Emperor: "Go ahead." Macaque: "Azure will not stand to let even a trace of my magic inside the palace grounds - but he's been in a fair mood since Peng and Yellow Tusk have been returned to him. If we can play into that sense of camaraderie, we can get someone on the inside to smuggle Wukong and the baby out of there." Xiwangmu: "Consider his sentence null and void in the event that he helps saves my grandson and great-grandson." Tieshan, surprised: "Mother! You don't mean-" Xiwangmu: "Tieshan, currently your husband is my least disliked son-in-law. If he can help us retake the throne and save Sun Wukong, I will welcome him into our family with open arms." Tang, fanboying: "We're gonna release the Demon Bull King!!!" Red Son, appearing in a joyful whirlwind of fire: "YEAH!! Baba will kick their butts!" Tieshan: "AHH! Red Son! I thought I left you with the Ao-Longs!" Both of the Ao-Longs in dragon form: "You did." "He tried to take the baby back himself." Mei, mouth full of feathers: "I bit the birdy!"

Of course this leads to the conversation of who can lift the Staff to release DBK if Wukong isn't available.

Macaque isn't his mate's equal for nothing.

[creative-classpect]

Sylph of Void

The Sylph of Void. One who heals secrecy, darkness, and nothingness while also healing with them.

The cool black abyss. Come in peace and watch your step

Sylph- heal their aspect and heal with it. They bring their aspect to where there is little of it, sowing the seeds for their aspect to grow.

Void- major themes of nothingness, obscurity, and the Void. Minor themes of ignorance, secrecy, darkness and null.

Abilities

Shroud

The Sylph of Void allows shadows, mystery, and secrecy to blossom, bloom, and spread. The Sylph is capable of a sort of sleight of hand and misdirection, allowing little unnoticed changes to become areas of obfuscation and confusion. 

Initially this could manifest as a blackout doctrine, specializing in redacting, deleting, and disconnecting key pieces of information. Carefully editing audio and video, blacking out text in sensitive files, and other similar forms of direct information control. The Sylph is something of a counterintelligence agent, either as minor as someone being a troll or as grand as one of the Men In Black, choosing to carefully and meticulously erase key details.

At lower levels these methods of shrouding would begin to take on a more supernatural lean, able to not simply block out the information in the present, but expand beyond the medium to the information itself. When they begin octuring information it subtly alters other records of the same object or event and can even pass into the minds of anyone witnessing the shroud. Carving a face out of a painting could result in all other portraits of the person in the castle being similarly removed with servants unable to easily remember who the portrait was supposed to be of.

As the Sylph of Void progresses this would move beyond tampering and enter into interfering with reality with less interference. The Sylph would be able to cast their shroud over objects and people, akin to a magic placing a blanket over something they wish to disappear. While cloaked, objects and people would be in a field of stasis, unaware of time and unburdened by things like cause and effect. These people or objects sit in a place of superposition where until the shroud is removed, nothing has occurred yet. The coin at the apex of a toss. All while their gap in the world is felt, reverberating out. This can be used to effectively erase periods of a timeline, to hide things away in the hidden depths of the Incipisphere, and to allow the disappearance of any person or object to invoke inquiry about the mysterious void left behind.

At medium levels, the Sylph of Void can allow these shadows to lengthen, controlling a dimmer to the world itself.  Their shroud would increase in size, allowing for more subjects of greater size, number, and distance to the Sylph to become hidden. As long as they remain shrouded it is like they never even existed or a magic trick yet to meet a resolution, if it ever will. Prolonged time shrouded could result in things being swallowed by the void, never to be seen again. The Sylph could cause these lost things to be forgotten as well.

At higher levels, the Sylph of Void would be able to cloak entire places within their shroud, erasing and neutralizing all details and senses related to the place. Entire airships, armies, castles, moments themselves could simply cease to be. The looming dread of a mysterious threat passing over an army as monsters disappear behind the curtain of reality. The Sylph of Void controls the curtains of the stage, and with it, what stories get told. People, places, and events can be forced to transpire “off-screen” away from anything of importance or note, if the Sylph allows them to transpire at all.

Safe haven

A Sylph of Void renews with void, healing and restoring with nothingness, obscurity, and lack of focus. The Sylph knows how to take the pressure off, allowing time and rest away from the vibrant sights and sounds of the world around them. They can cause things to lose relevance and immediate impact, creating a gentle environment.

While they are more than capable of reducing harm, they might lack the drive necessary to achieve their ends or fully sympathize with the desires of others, a caretaker focused solely on recovery without the end goal of activity in mind. 

At lower levels the Sylph has a cooling, soothing, perhaps even to the point of stifling aura. They are capable of suppressing or even nullifying pain, hunger, and stress, at the cost of all else: initiative, drive, extreme emotions, and clarity of purpose. They could refresh and restore stamina and endurance and in more extreme cases, allow for their allies to simply shrug off harm and keep standing or even alive through the Sylph alone.

As they progress this ability to soothe and nullify would expand into an aura around them, a lack of narrative focus and spotlight allowing them to bring peace and reprieve. Similar to how conflicts in movies tend to slow for a character interaction scene, the Sylph would be able to bide their time. Attacks never seem to make a solid impact, ranged weaponry flying harmlessly past, boss monsters being easily distracted by other threats, etc. The Sylph would particularly excel at evacuations, with those they can maintain focus on simply fading away and disappearing into the background to maneuver and escape. 

At medium levels the Sylph of Void can create their own pocket in reality, a literal safe space beyond the borders of the world around them. This pocket dimension would be a space of deep introspection and quiet peace, where little, if anything, could interfere. Without shape and form, this nebulous area of nothingness is a cool dark abyss, where time is slowed. The Sylph and their allies would have a time to rest, a pause button for the world around them. While in this safe haven things may not occur in their immediate surroundings, but other functions far away may still occur. While the area around the Safe Haven may slow and lose tension, the spotlight must always be directed and for better or worse, it will go elsewhere.

At higher levels this Safe Haven would expand in dimension and ability, evolving from a small protective space to a large area completely outside the bounds of space and time, without cause and effect, without narrative pressure and tension. The Safe Haven is a world unto itself, existing between the threads of reality, the space between pages, where all lost and forgotten things dwell. Even should this kingdom of darkness manage to be breached, swirling protective shadows and horrorterror guardians are able to protect the Sylph of Void.

Passives

Something from nothing- you never require tools to fix an object or heal a creature, seemingly making due with nothing at all

Better without- even when you are not present you are helpful

Whisper network- you can share secretive information regardless of distance or method

- - -

This post was commissioned by @smiteblast442 ! Thank you for being patient <3

If you want to commission me you can find me @ https://ko-fi.com/kesscal

[howlingday]

Vash gun Jaune (that's what I'm officially calling it)

Jaune: So what are we doing

Ruby: A expedition trip for you to get used to your gun. You got the new bracers?

Jaune: Yeah I got them....where are we going

Ruby: We...oh no this is for you *tosses a heavy backpack to him* Inside is at least 2 months of supplies but you gotta make it last.

Jaune: *Looks worried* What do you mean by that?

As he asked this the section Jaune sat at give way dropping him into a Forrest that is filled with mist.

Ruby: *Yells at him* "See you in about 4 months when the mist clear!"

Jaune: RUBY ROSE WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN, IM SO GONNA GET MY PAYBACK!!!

(Landing strategy maybe his charged shots help him)

My name is Jaune Arc. I was born in Ansel, then left for Beacon when I turned 17. On my way there, a lot of things happened. A lot of bad things. Things that everyone blamed me for, which led to me being branded the most wanted criminal on Remnant.

So there I was, staring at the bladed edge of the greatest huntress in Atlas when suddenly a snow angel came in to stop her. The most beautiful snow angel I'd ever seen. And next to her was my best friend, Ruby, who was holding up my wanted poster before ripping it in half.

"On behalf of the Schnee Dust Company Insurance Department," Weiss explained, "Jaune Arc, also known as Walking Disaster Jaune is declared void of his bounty, as it has been deemed that he can be held as responsible for damage as earthquake or a hurricane. As such, myself and Ruby Rose are to act as his handlers until such time his cataclysmic tendencies are deemed null and void."

Now, you're probably wondering why Ruby, who is supposed to be keeping an eye on me, just dropped me in the middle of a misty forest. Well, the reason is quite simple; she hates me. There's also a more complicated reason, which is that I'm supposed to be training for something big that's supposed to be happening soon, so I need to train both my body and my senses for four months.

She also gave me this gun she hand-crafted just for me. She says it's probably the most powerful handgun in the world, calling it "the best hand-cannon Remnant will ever see." And that's pretty much the bare bones of why I'm here, laying against a tree with a sore shoulder, an aching bicep, and probably a broken hand. Thank goodness for aura, right?

I just hope no one is stupid enough to come wandering into these woods after the SDCID just put out word that these woods are sectioned off for "natural disaster preparation". Yes, I know how dumb it sounds, too, but I'm not the one who came up with this plan. That honor goes to Weiss' dad.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 11

Part 10

The smell of a pup was usually a fresh, neutral scent on their own until they officially presented and it ripened with the unique scent of adolescence. It was why scenting one’s child was important. A way to mark them as your own for the whole world to know. And it was typical of parents to do this before seeing their child off somewhere, particularly school.

Shawn never really noticed before now how sometimes his classmates would smell just a little different, depending on who scented them. He wasn’t the only one with one parent but Daniel got to see his mom on weekends, and Elodie still talked to her dad. Shawn was the only one with a single parent with no contact with his other. And he wasn’t complaining. But now that he noticed, he wondered if other people noticed his single note of a scent.

No one had ever made him feel bad about it but maybe they were just being nice about his situation…

Eddie greeted his students in the morning, usually with a high five or a fist bump. “Warm up’s on your desks, make sure you have a sharpened pencil.”

Elodie got to her desk before unpacking and looked at the worksheet. “Do we get to color?”

“What do the directions say?”, Eddie asked, encouraging her to read.

“‘Color…your fa…vorite food’. Yay!”

Eddie told her good job before seeing to the other students and making sure unpacking by the cubbies went without any drama. It all seemed to be going well, so he turned his back. Of course, that was when he heard shoving and the beginnings of a wailing cry.

Shawn was at his desk while Mr. Munson tried to soothe Yasmin. She bumped her head against his leg like she was much younger than six, a move that would normally get an adult to scent her and assure her she wasn’t in trouble. Mr. Munson just gave her a pat on the head and reminded her that the cubbies had names and she couldn’t just put her things wherever she wanted, but also Daniel shouldn’t toss other’s belongings onto the floor.

Mr. Munson was really nice like that, giving head pats, and high fives, but he never scented any of the students. That would be weird. But would he scent Shawn? Where did they stand, now that he was dating his dad?

After school, Steve came and he rubbed Shawn’s cheeks. “You’re like my cute mochi thing. What do they call it? The white thing?”

“Cinnamoroll?”, Eddie and Shawn said in unison.

“No, the other thing. The rabbit.”

“That’s Cinnamoroll, Dad. Now please release my cheeks”, Shawn said.

That just made Steve squish them together more. “No, there’s something else. And I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a dog anyway.” He let Shawn’s face go and looked up at Eddie. “We still on for tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world”, Eddie promised.

Shawn waited until they were in the car before asking. “What’s tonight?”

Steve smiled. “He’s coming over for dinner.”

“What’re we having?”, Shawn asked, trying to look nonchalant as he played with his seatbelt.

“I was thinking cockroach legs and frog’s eyes”, Steve said, snickering at the look of disgust that he caught in the mirror. “Well what would you serve then?”

“Make your own tacos. I saw you taking out ground beef earlier.”

“You know what, that could work”, Steve agreed. Nevermind that Shawn also would’ve seen the different vegetables on the counter, as well as various sauces which could only be used for tacos. Christopher Nolan, eat your heart out.

Eddie would be spending the evening with them as it was decided that he should do so without it being a date. He and Steve knew they worked well together, now it was time to add Shawn to the mix. He would only be his teacher for a few more months after all. And then in a few years, he would probably be Steve’s. So keeping them apart for that reason was about to be null and void.

Steve had Shawn finish his homework at the table while he started cooking. Eddie arrived about half an hour later, knocking at the door. Steve sent Shawn to get it only because he was washing his hands from touching raw meat and he recognized the roar of Eddie’s van by now. 

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the house”, Eddie smiled when Shawn opened the door.

“Are you here to sell cookies?”, Shawn teased.

“Hmm, no cookies, only pie”, he said, bringing one from behind his back.

Shawn shrugged. “That’ll work.”

He let Eddie in and they joined his dad in the kitchen. Eddie greeted Steve with a kiss, who smiled when he saw the dessert Eddie brought. 

“You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t. Safeway did.”

Dinner was a fun affair. Probably the only low point for Shawn was when the two of them randomly broke out into a song that he didn’t know and even danced along to it. Did they not see how embarrassing they were? The tacos were good though. Shawn liked to put a ton of cheese on his. 

“Hey, you got something there”, Eddie said in the middle of eating.

“Where?”, Steve asked, trying to look at his own face.

Eddie put a swipe of sour cream on his nose. “There.”

Shawn laughed enough to shake his own taco (#3) and make half the ingredients spill out onto his plate. After eating, Shawn helped by bringing the dirty dishes to the sink and helping Steve wrap up the leftovers while Eddie got to washing. Shawn got to take his slice of pie to the living room so long as he ate at the coffee table, leaving the two adults alone.

They were shoulder to shoulder as they washed and dried. At one point, Steve put his head on Eddie’s shoulder and they paused for a moment, soaking it all in. It was only one night but this one night boded well for their future. Once the dishes were done, they joined Shawn, who had taken up the middle of the couch. Without a word, they sat on either side of him. Shawn had it on a kids’ sitcom, but honestly it didn’t matter what they were watching. 

Steve and Eddie’s arms were across the back of the couch so that they could touch, leaving Eddie’s side open for Shawn to lean into. Shawn let out a yawn, full and tired. Then he bumped his forehead against Eddie’s chest. His eyes bugged out, looking at Steve for a sign, approval, something. He didn’t want to spook Shawn by using his voice though. Steve’s eyes were glistening a little as he nodded. 

Slowly, Eddie brought his arm down and rubbed his wrist against Shawn’s hair and cheeks. Steve could just barely hear the coo of contentment. When they were sure he was asleep, Eddie gathered Shawn in his arms and carried him to his room, Steve leading the way. 

“Wait for me in my room”, Steve whispered so that he could give Shawn a bit of privacy while dressing him down in his pjs.

Eddie waited faithfully, sitting on the edge of the bed when Steve finally came in. They spent the night sharing slow kisses, building each other up while using just their hands to finish the job. It was still a school night, after all.

From then on, Eddie took some time to scent Shawn while he was fully awake, sometimes even at school. The other students didn’t think much of it but the week after just happened to be the school-wide spelling bee. A few parents were in attendance. Steve couldn’t make it, as it was the middle of the day, but Eddie promised him pictures.

Shawn took first place, almost stumbling on the word ‘lightning’ but pushing through. The awards were given and parents congratulated their kids, getting pictures as well. Eddie kept himself available, only about half of his students’ parents showed up. Shawn showed his trophy to a friend who was standing by their dad.

He knelt down by Shawn. “You want me to get some pics for your dad, kiddo?”

“Mr. Munson’s gonna text my dad, right?”, Shawn beamed.

“That I will”, Eddie promised.

It was such a benign interaction that Eddie didn’t think a thing of it. But in that moment, the other parent caught a whiff of Shawn, who smelled too similar to Mr. Munson. And texting a parent? On its own, not strange but he’d been careful not to give out his personal number to anyone. He communicated mostly through emails. Sometimes a flyer in the kids’ folders. It was all just adding up to something fishy in his opinion…

He voiced as much to his wife when he got home and she just didn’t see it.

“Are you trying to say Shawn’s dad slept with the teacher so he could win the spelling bee?”

“I mean I’m not saying that exactly, but it seems kind of rigged, doesn’t it?”

She called their daughter down from her room. “Is your friend Shawn a good speller?”

“Yeah, he can even spell some second grade words. They ran out of first grade words to give him.”

“Well, your daddy didn’t mention that.”

“I just think we shouldn’t rule it out.” A lot of the parents knew each other, at least in passing. So it was no secret that Steve was single. Of course, most would never suspect he was dating his son’s teacher but considering the scent he was carrying…

As this was brewing on Eddie's side, from Steve's past a familiar face approached closer and closer.

Part 12

Fun fact: that actually happened at my school's spelling bee. Two of my first graders spelled so well, they had to move on to second grade words. Don't praise me though, they came to me that smort.

Taglist

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

[pop-punklouis]

"Zero photographic evidence of what? Larry being real? I beg to differ. We have both photographic and videographic evidence, we have statements of confirmation from both the involved parties on film."  Where is the larry evidence on film? Because it would stop being a conspiracy if larry evidence was on film. Any NDA and injunction against the press is null the moment there is actual evidence posted that makes all those NDAs you claim so many people signed null and void. Any person, namely Louis, will at least do a tell all or many more would sell their story if there was ANY evidence of larry being real on film nullifying all the NDAs and injunctions. Louis will stop that " babygate " you claim is forced upon him covered by NDAs and injunctions. Or do you claim that both Louis and Harry love exploiting children who don't get a choice? Will you ignore this ask too saying people should use google? Once the information from NDAs and injunctions is made public they are all void. Google it. 

always very fascinated by this. how do you work? does a particular blog grate on your nerves so badly that you just snap and feel like you need to draft something to them? do you write down points you want to hit before creating the final piece? how long do you sit and re-read it before it’s good enough to be passed on? is there a specific list of blogs you have that you make sure to send this to? or do you toss blog names in a hat and pull them out to make sure it’s random? why don’t you just send it to the one blog that prompted this post? why is it like a forwarded email? do you feel a catharsis when you’re done? is this your form of therapy? rambling incoherently in people’s inboxes? what type of response do you hope for? *crosses legs behind my head and cradles head in hands* i really gotta know <3

[knightsofsomethingorother]

What I like about the Knights: Bedwyr/Bedivere

I have had brainworms about this man since I first read the scene in good old Morte when I was 14 years old where he lied about throwing Excalibur into the lake. TWICE. And he only tosses it in after Arthur straight up threatens to kill him if he tries that shit again. Iconic. As such most of my love for him stems from Malory's interpretation specifically, which is funny because this motherfucker is only in the last few chapters.

To expand a bit on him lying at the end. We don't really know WHY he didn't chuck it. We know he thinks it'd cause problems, but no specifics. Did he want to use it himself? Did he think it'd help the kingdom to keep around? Was it ultimately sentimental? Selfish or selfless? Who knows!

In the older works he pops up in, he notably doesn't have any outstandingly special powers unless you count him being really good with thrusting weapons, which I don't because A) it can be read as him just being really quick and precise (which I personally find a more interesting interpretation, hard work and skill honed over a long time is way cooler than magic), and B) he gets power-creeped hard - and even then most writers either don't know or forget he's really good with swords and spears. My mans had his thunder stolen BAD.

In fact, he was the OG Prettiest Guy Who Isn't Arthur(tm), but then more Prettiest Guys Who Aren't Arthur(tm) kept getting added. So he's, unfortunately, usually shoved into the background unless someone else (usually Kay) drags a spotlight over to him.

Sidenote, I fully believe that Bedwyr and Kay are married. But really I'm just happy any time they appear together. A lot of the time the knights don't really feel like they're even friends in the 'normal human' way instead of the 'operating under 10 layers of chivalry and posturing' way, and at the very least Kay and Bedwyr actually enjoy being around each other.

Also, this motherfucker was there FROM THE BEGINNING (both in-universe and as like... a concept (he predates Jesus by a few hundred years)) and is usually the last guy left alive. But he's never a major player in anything except chucking the sword in a lake at the end. At most he's helping Kay with something or doing his job. A job he did presumably well because he held his position as Marshall for several decades and only lost it because everybody mcfucking bit it all at once.

If you want to look through a metanarrative lens, he's cursed to witness events and never influence them, but he gets one act of agency at the very end, which he gives up out of either fear or loyalty. And his reward is that he's left alone with a flippant order from his king to do whatever he wants. A lifetime of service rendered completely null and void by the complete loss of everything and everybody that he's ever known.. A lifetime of service to a system that was ultimately the root cause of the tragedy. And goddammit that's some spicy stuff to work with.

Anyway, my grand thesis statement is this: He exists in a sweet spot where he'd be an excellent POV and can be built on without in any way upsetting preestablished characterization. He's a relatively normal guy among complete and total freaks of nature (affectionate) who manages to outlive all of them. And the few things that are relatively set-in-stone about him (Close to Kay, only has one hand, there from the beginning, chucks sword into lake) are enough of a foundation to make him really interesting. To summarize:

[blackstarchanx3new]

yes, surprisingly I’m putting another one because I’m annoying

so-

out of these LOVELY carbon based life forms

(Yes I am aware my art sucks, but ibis paint and shattered iPhone do NOT MIX)

would win in a fight (-triforce stuffs because that would give unfair advantages I think)

I swear, people always wanna power scale characters I write and my response will ALWAYS be:

"Well that depends"

Because I don't write characters based on "Is he over 9,000!?" dragonball logic lmfao.

Dark Link HYPOTHETICALLY could slap the ever loving shit out of all 4 Links if he used his powers right RIGHT NOW in the comic. Comic could be over within 2 seconds if that was the case. (Shadow is disqualified because the triforce of power is)

Because the dude, can literally break your mind in a second and then stab the fuck out of you if he REALLY felt like it.

But...He WOULDN'T. Because in his own words that's "Boring".

Dark Link doesn't play the typical "WHEN YOU'RE OUT OF MY WAY I'LL RULE THE WORLD" because that's literally the last thing on this dude's mind.

Dark's motivations keep him from doing anything that'd end the comic.

Dark's motivations of wanting to be given affection completely cancel out the idea he WOULD hurt the Link's physically long term because he wants them alive.

So the idea "Dark could slap everyone in a second flat" is null and void imo because of characterization reasons. He'd. Never. Do. That.

HE COULD. But he WOULDN'T.

I find hypotheticals that completely disregard the characterization super boring as well "Who is the strongest" Is such a silly question.

Because it tosses out the question "Well would they really do that?"

How do you define power?

Especially when placing arbitrary restrictions like "No Triforce" because, well.. you know the answer then?

Shadow Link is the strongest because he has the triforce of Power. He trumps Dark in that department but also has control over Dark because Dark is a demon. But then, Link hypothetically can slap the shit out of Shadow if he really needed too...Because Link canonically has the power to slap Gannon silly.

But "Why the fuck would they do that" is the prevailing question?

They are written this way for a reason.

I make strong as hell characters (Dark included) but the "power scaling" is mostly defined by their personalities/what they'd actually do.

Because then we get into the question "What is strength actually?" emotional strength? Physical? Magical?

I have a writing rule:

OP Character? Make their restrictions based on their personality.

Cause this isn't two characters fighting in a void...this is a comic with a story flow and specific characterization built the way it is to get to a point.

"That's not what the story is about" is the blunt answer I have.

Dark doodle for my writing rant troubles.

I guess what bugs the hell out of me by the question "Who's the strongest" is

"What the fuck led to this hypothetical death match to begin with?"

and I just cannot fathom a reason why this would be happening because my characters are not written for these weird hypotheticals.

The fights that are in my stories are there, because it furthers the plot. Not to show off power?

They're written for the story they're contained in, in which there are very specific rules they must follow because my brain said so.

"Character x will win this fight, because that's how the story goes, if it were to go the other way, the story would end."

The question itself is antithetical to the idea of the stories I tell.

[systemcanid]

Scout

[The Nulls Call. Side story of The Church Of Null by ElectricalInk on YouTube.]

[story below. Lyrics by me.]

A disassembly drone, b, one of cyns drone scouts, is now sent to recruit droids to accept the solver virus now that the purple usurper has been defeated. Cyn’s disassembly drones number has dwindled greatly due to heretics and unruled solver going wild from unchecked hunger. B meets two worker drones. One named Nyx and one named Max. Nyx is solver compatible and seems to already know of the solver through max, a user of the solver, and has a keen interest in learning more about it which b is plenty happy to offer more information about the solver as a gift from the void mother herself, Cyn. Offering information on the regeneration abilities, flight, and other powers it can offer as well as the protection Cyn offers never to be tossed asside and never go hungry if he allows Cyn to access admin permissions and give them The perfect model of a drones potential. Nyx takes all the information down. Seeming to at least to take interest in knowing more. Max however couldn't care less about giving away admin permissions but did enjoy having someone to finally fly with. They already have the power they need. They don’t need someone else to have control over their system. Time passes and b still try’s to convince them to join with little progress. Even so, over that time, Nyx proved himself to be a valuable friend. B caught feelings for Max.

[helluvascribe]

Rolando reacts to "Ghostf**kers"

“Oh, it’s a human. Some mortal randomly coming here to this null void. Let’s cut to the chase. I’m Rolando. And I was just killed not too long ago by a duo of lowborn firetoad imps. I was THIS close to feasting on both of them, but that Bethany Ghostdicker electrocuted me in my own element! Now I can’t possess mortals for Leviathan anymore and I’m stuck in…well I don’t really know where I am. Sinners and hellborn who die in Hell become food for the dark goddess Roo, but I was killed on Earth so…I guess I’m double dead in this darkness. The worst part? I had my glory for one time and now I’ll never be able to get my revenge! I’m stuck replaying my own thoughts, forever! Can you even imagine how INSUFFERABLE THIS IS?! What good is being an infestor demon when you have no one to infest?!”

*Sighs*

“You still here? You waiting for me to peer into your mind and torment you? I would if I could, but now I’m the one who’s trapped. There’s really nothing to do here other than to brood over my defeat. Hmmm…I suppose I could react to the so called Helluva Boss episodes…though they should’ve been all about me. Reduced to being a one-time Halloween scare! Pathetic! I am not going to accept being a one-off character, but reacting will be the closest I get to being back in my world. So as the most fearsome formidable foe in this show, I’ll start with the one episode I stared in, ‘Ghostfuckers.’ I’ve got some popcorn right here, a real titilator this one is. Let’s begin.”

Assassin Millie sat alone at a bar, taking a slow sip of her drink.

Rolando: “Well, this looks like an interesting place. But I know it’s not in Envy, so it’s not the best, anyway.”

Blitzo pushed open the doors and walked slowly into the bar.

Rolando: “Oh, there’s the little imp asshole that defeated me. What a smug little jerk.”

Blitzo sat down next to Millie, arms folded. “So…you the bitch that took our hit?”

“You lookin’ for payback?” Millie asked with a glare. “If so, you came to the wrong fucking BAR!” Millie retrieved her knife and stabbed it into the table. She leaped off her chair with a flip, spinning her knife in Blitzo’s direction.

Rolando: “Whoa! I know I don’t like Millie either, but that’s more like a true assassin! I’m impressed. She should’ve stayed under her imp overlords.”

“Whoa-oh!” Blitzo exclaimed, using a chair to block the attack. “Nice shot! I could see why Moxxie was so impressed with you!”

Millie landed more punches, which Blitzo blocked. She broke the chair with her fists.

“Impressive!” Blitzo remarked.

“Who’s that? Your boss? Ha!” Millie leaped and broke the table as Blitzo raced out of the way.

Rolando: “I bet Satan could’ve used her for his army if she had more connections.”

“Ow!” Blitzo winced then grinned. “Ha! He fucking wishes! No, I work for myself, lady!”

Millie did a flip.

“Nice one!” Blitzo called.

“Bullshit! Who sent you? Who are you working for?!”

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“Imps don’t work for themselves, asshole!”

“Well, this one does, and he’s very interested in having you join his team.”

Rolando: “Oh, this must’ve taken place before their little group was formed. I’m all for killing humans but I.M.P. should’ve gone elsewhere and stayed out of my way!”

Millie flipped over the wall. “You think you have anything to offer me?”

“Double whatever you’re getting paid now!” Blitzo declared.

Millie grabbed some darts. “I’m between jobs! HA!”

Blitzo dodged the darts, and the darts hit the bartender.

“This powerhouse! How’d that happen?”

“Not exactly a shortage of imp assassins in Wrath,” Millie responded. “Reputation is everything.”

“And what’s your reputation, hmm?” Blitzo asked.

Millie attacked him with a pool stick in response and they fought on a pool table. After they landed on the floor, Millie asked, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone with an eye for potential,” said Blitzo. “Now you wanna keep working for peanuts…or do you wanna shake things up?” He held his hand.

Millie held out her hand, then tossed a knife at Blitzo that cut his cheek.

Millie chuckled. “You’re fucking weird. I’m in.” The imps shook hands.

“So, who’s that Moxxie guy you mentioned?”

Blitzo and Millie walked out of the bar together.

“Oh, you’re new coworker. Yeah you…you’ll fucking hate him.”

Rolando: *Yawns* “I’m getting bored. I.M.P. backstory, boring.”

“Welcome to I.M.P.!” Blitzo smiled as the door opened to his office. “Holy shit!” Millie gasped.

Rolando: “Eugh! What a dump! I know my hotel was tacky, but at least things were fairly decent back in my home.”

“Sir, what is this?” Moxxie asked.

Blitzo patted the grimoire in his hands. “This baby right here is our future, ‘kay? So I figured we deserve an upgrade right? New clients, new office, new Ring. Go on, check it out!”

Blitzo looked at Millie. “What? Not nice enough for you? I did the fucking best I could.”

Rolando: “Hehhehheh.”

“We…heh…we don’t deserve this.”

“Huh?”

“We’re just Wrathians, Blitz. Muscle. It’s all we’re good for. All I’m good for…”

Rolando: “She should’ve stayed the brute she was.”

“…it’s why you hired me. Any demon good at making a buck is welcome in Lust or Greed, but here in Pride? Demons like us ain’t cut out for this. When a goon fails their mission set by their overlord, they are easily replaced. It’s endless competition.”

“Umm, fuck you,” Blitzo dismissed.

“What?!”

“Millie, I’ve spent too much of my time, energy and holes, into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You’re tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I’ve ever met in any Ring. And I’m more fuckable and business savvy than any succu-bitch alive!”

Rolando: “In your dreams, horned ass.”

“Loona’s perfect and Moxxie’s…”

He glanced at Moxxie happily looking at electric eels in a fish tank, “…probably got some good traits too and I’m sure we’ll figure them out eventually…”

Rolando: “Heheheh.”

“The point is, if we can’t make it here, then…then no one deserves to, right?”

He led her around. “Kay’ so stop killing my buzz and come on, I wanna show you my office!”

Rolando: *Yawns.* “More imp backstories. I’m gonna skip.”

Millie hummed as she carried a tray of drinks into the I.M.P. building.

Rolando: “So that’s what Pride looks like! Red sky, city buildings. Imp City looks just like the dump I imagined it to be.”

Millie exited the elevator and hummed.

“Howdy, mister! Fine morning!”

Millie swung open the door.  “Another day in paradise!”

Millie froze as she saw a tired Loona standing by a fire in a barrel, holding an owl.

“Oh shit, it’s morning,” Loona groaned.

Rolando: “Whoa, what happened to the buzzed-mutt? Oh, ‘buzzed-mutt’ is what we call Hellhounds in Envy. Like ‘firetoads’ for imps and ‘Earth apes for humans,’ ya know?”

“Uh, yeah. Have you been here all night? And what are you doing?”

“Blitz bought two hundred taxidermy owls, then said I couldn’t go home until I burned…all of them.”

Rolando: “Wow, hahahaha! Blitzo must be really messed up in the head to even treat his co-workers like that.”

Wally Wackford appeared as Millie opened the door.

Rolando: “Who’s the showman freak?”

“Hey! I’ve got an order here for a hundred more wacky owls!”

“Fuuuccckk!” Loona groaned as she took the clipboard.

Rolando: *Chuckles*

“Hey, I haven’t seen you guys in a while, heh! Do you like wanna hang out some…”

Millie slammed the door in his face.

“Okay, that answers that, I say, I say!” Wally Wackford called from behind the door.

Rolando: “Hahaha! I would’ve done the same thing, Millie.”

“Blitz is still sulking? It’s been over a month. And where is Moxxie? He didn’t come home last night…”

Moxxie screeched in a panic from the other room. Millie raced into the room, about to attack, but stopped when she saw Moxxie.

“Honey? You okay?”

“I’m stuck in a math nightmare!” Moxxie cried, holding papers in his hands on the desk.

Rolando: *Chuckles* “Oh my goodness, if only I had been there to watch all those guys fall apart! Their thoughts would’ve been so tasty!”

“The numbers! The numbers! I can’t make them add up! We’re FUCKED!”

“Come on, baby, it can’t be that bad.”

“He drained our pension and used it to buy THESE!” He mentioned to a pile of plates in a box with brown horse pictures on them with their tongues out.

Rolando: *Scoffs* “What?! What a weirdo!”

“Damn. I’ve never seen him in such bad shape.”

“Bad? Bad?! This isn’t bad…this is just a FINANCIAL APOCALYPSE!”

Rolando: *Laughs* “Blitzo just screwed over his own company! I hope those imps go homeless!”

“I usually give him space to work his shit out but…you think I should talk to him?”

“We’re gonna get audited, we’re gonna default, we’re going bankrupt! Our lives are over, Millie! All my hard work gone in a flash! Ooh I should’ve been a theater critic, I have objectively correct opinions!”

Rolando: “Oh yeah, you should’ve! At least your full crew wouldn’t exist. That Moxxie fellow would’ve been an easy snack for me.”

“Loona I need my piss bucket NOW!”

Rolando: “The fuck?”

Blitzo sat on a pile of pillows eating ice cream and cheese whiz in his office.

Rolando: “You really are a pathetic moping sack aren’t you Blitzo?”

Bethany Ghostfucker appeared on TV. “Oh ooh, okay, I’m getting a real sexy energy from this room! Oh, there is definitely a fuckable spirit here!”

Rolando: “Wait, that’s what Blitzo dressed up as? A human whore actress? Disgusting! Still, it’s hilarious how stupid humans are to believe in ghosts let alone fucking them!”

“Yeah, get the spooky ghoul cock, bitch!”

“Blitz!”

“GO AWAY!”

“I’m comin’ in!”

“Read the chains!”

Millie opened the door and entered, turning off the TV. “Blitz, what are you doing? You’ve been in here watching this Earth trash forever.”

“I’M COPING!”

“Yeah, well you’ve ‘coped’ away every dollar we had.”

“Those plates are collectables, Millie. I’m gonna sell them next year for three times as much and then I’ll have something to show for it when the things I care about vanish.”

Rolando: “Heh. Good luck with that.”

“Mmmkay…my mama always said the best way to deal with being sad is the sweat and blood of hard work. Washes the tears right off.”

“I don’t need any of your ‘folksy-dolksy’ fucking country wisdom, Millie. I need to watch the Ghostfuckers get dicked down by a disembodied spirit and eat my feelings til’ I die from a heart attack or diabetes, whichever pops open my heart out first!”

Rolando: “Heheheh, oh please do.”

“I don’t get it, Blitz. All this over breakup?”

“IT WAS NOT A BREAKUP! You need a relationship for one of those and we never had that. And we never will.”

Rolando: “Oh, your despair looks so delicious…”

“Oh, Blitz…”

The phone rang and Blitzo pressed a button. “What?!”

“We’ve got a client,” said Loona.

“Tell them to FUCK OFF!”

“DON’T!” Millie yelled. “I’ll be right there.”

Loona and Millie walked out to meet Rita the Sinner.

“You know my psychic told me I’d be going somewhere bad on Wednesday. I thought she meant Baltimore, I didn’t think it was HELL!”

“Mhm, interesting,” said Loona as she picked up Millie and placed her in front of Rita.

“Oh look! Someone whose job it is to listen to you.”

“What’s going on?” asked Millie.

“…so yesterday I was killed by the evil ghost haunting the spooky hotel.”

Rolando: “Oooh! *chuckles evilly* “I think I remember her. She was that brown-haired lady I be-headed the other day!”

“Ma’am,” said Millie. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but when humans die, they either end up here or up there.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, lady!” Loona added.

Blitzo burst through the chained office door. “GHOST?! I HEARD GHOST! Where’s the ghost I can fuck…er hunt?”

“Blitz, calm down! Someone killed this lady, but it wasn’t…”

“Millie! Let. Me. Have. This.”

“But…”

Blitzo held up a punch card labeled “UNCONDITUINAL SUPPORT.” Millie sighed and punched a hole in it with a knife.

“Alright,” he said to Rita. “So, tell me what it looked like, starting with its hotness and tightness. How-how many abs would you say you witnessed?”

Rolando: “What a sexual freak. Believe me, she saw everything she needed to see before she never saw anything again! Hahahahaha! I don’t really need abs, I have my powers, shapeshifting and for hotness…heh, let’s just say I have a secret…uh… ‘five-star wonder’ that no one will ever see.” *chuckles* *Clears throat* “Alright moving on. Skip, skip…”

Blitzo and Millie entered the hotel lobby.

Rolando: “Alright folks! You finally get to see the star of the show! Enjoy!”

Rolando in his human disguise lowered Blitzo’s device with his fingers. “Welcome to the one Star Wonder where it’s a wonder we still have that star. How may I help you today?”

Blitzo spoke in his valley girl accent. “We’re filming a very special episode of my hit show and we’re gonna need access to every room in this dump.”

Rolando took the card. “Christ, you Hollywood assholes are pushy little pricks. I can’t just give you the keys to every ba…”

“Well snap me in half! You’re Bethany Ghostfucker from that one show…”

“It’s called ‘Ghostfuckers,’ idiot,” Blitzo deadpanned.

Rolando: “You’re the idiot, Blitzo. I could smell that you guys were hellborn imps.”

“No, but you’re getting close! Anyway, I am glad to see you folks, we’ve been having more…disturbances than usual lately.”

“What kind?” Blitzo asked. “S-sexy disturbances?”

Rolando slammed down three crime scene photos onto the desk. “The kind that are killing my guests!”

Rolando: “Yes, I do like to collect photos of my victims. Can’t let myself forget my accomplishments, can I? Heheheheh…”

“Well, there definitely ain’t no such thing as ghosts,” said Millie.

“You sure about that?” Rolando asked, as the lights flickered overhead.

“We’ll get to the bottom of who’s been killing your guests,” said Millie.

“Uh, yeah, except ghosts are real, camera man,” said Blitzo.

“They’re a conspiracy, Bethany!”

“Then what do I plan on fucking tonight?”

Rolando: *Growls* “Won’t you annoying imps just shut up?!”

“Real or not, this needs to stop,” said Rolando.

“Uh we’ll need those keys then,” said Blitzo.

Rolando gave them to him. “They killed my last cleaning lady and now I’m stuck with this.”

Rolando mentioned to the hunchbacked bellhop who drooled and made Stitch-like “bitch” noises.

“Poor thing can’t even blink.”

“No promises! Come along, Mil…I mean camera man…”

The portrait of Rolando holding a rose, eyed the imps as they wandered down the hall.

Rolando: “Very nice portrait of me.”

Rolando: “Yeah, I had to kill the cleaning lady…she accidentally saw me in my real form and…well, she was as tasty as any human…”

Rolando: “Alright, here come my favorite parts…”

Blitzo and Millie crawled through the vents. “Wow nice one Mils, I think I found the problem though! The readings were coming from above us so let’s get up there and…ow!”

He rammed into Millie who turned to him angrily. “Enough!”

“What?”

“I’m done. I don’t wanna play ghost hunter with you, and I…”

“Uh, it’s Ghostfuckers…”

“I wasn’t done!” yelled Millie. “You know, I always love to have fun with you, and I ain’t said boo to you moping around like a sad sack for weeks. But we have bills to pay. So look, you can be pathetic and play sex ghosts if that’s what you need to do, but I gotta get this job done.”

“Fine! Who needs you anyway?! Bethany Ghostfucker works alone!”

“Yeah who needs you anyway? Fucking ghost denying piece of sh…iIIITTT!”

Blitzo crawled through the vent and looked in disgust at black goo on his hands and clothes.

Rolando: “My black goo helps to create my illusions. I could sense his desperate thoughts from inside the vent! Heheheh!”

“SHIT! What the fuck is this?”

The black goo moved on its own and began pouring down from above.

Blitzo yelped as he started to slip. “Satan, Satan, Satan, FUCK!”

He strained as he held on by his fingertips.

Rolando: *Chuckles and eats popcorn*

“Millie? Millie! Millie! I need help! I can’t hold on, Millie!”

Blitzo lost his grip and screamed as he fell down the vent. A Millie opened it and Blitzo fell to the floor.

Blitzo reached out and stood up as Millie left. “Millie! Did you not hear me calling for help?”

“M-Mils!”

He raced after her and spun her around…

“You ALWAYS need help, Blitz!” screeched a distorted voice.

Rolando: “Oh yes, yes!”

Blitzo reeled back at the sight of a faceless Millie before him.

A nearby door opened, and a clawed hand gripped the frame. Another distorted voice that sounded similar to Millie’s.

“Always needing to take from those around you…”

To Blitzo’s horror, a glowing yellow eye appeared in the darkness, and out rose…

“Millie?” Blitzo stuttered.

But this Millie had rope wrapped around her wrists, a tree branch in her messy hair, bullet holes in her chest and shards of blood-stained glass where her left eye would be.

A horrific vision flashed in Blitzo’s mind…Millie leaping up to attack Ralphie, only for him to smash his glass bottle straight into her eye. Millie screamed and held her eye as black blood spurted forth. Then Blitzo found himself tied with Millie as the blond Martha grinned evilly and held her gun. Several shots rang out…one bullet from Martha hit Millie in the chest. Then another bullet flew through the air and hit her again. Martha then fell to the ground, thanks to Moxxie’s next shot. Moxxie then rushed over and wailed at the sight of Millie’s limp body next to Blitzo.

“Noooo!”

Moxxie looked at the bullet holes. “I…I killed her?”

Moxxie then glared at Blitzo with tears in his eyes, “What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anyth…”

The vision faded, leaving Blitzo gasping in the hall again.

“That didn’t happen, that didn’t happen,” he told himself. “We killed that Satanic family, and all made it out. That Millie can’t be real, right?”

In response, another door opened.

“You leave them worse and more broken than you found them.”

Blitzo yelped as another Millie entered from a door. Her face was burned and badly sacred, mostly yellow with only a few patches of red skin. Her eyes were black, and the remains of her black hair were singed. Glowing green flames sparked on the ends of her hair. She wore a black collar and a torn black suit with a high white collar.

Suddenly Blitzo found himself back in Loo-Loo Land…

He fought Robo Fizz in the tent until facing him outside. Robo Fizz grinned as he walked through the green flames. Blitzo fired bullets from his gun at Robo Fizz. Robo Fizz rolled into the stand of toys, blowing it up and sending some stuffed animals flying through the air.

Stolas held Octavia in his arms, and they smiled. Blitzo crash-landed to the ground with Moxxie and Millie. A black queef dragged an unconscious Millie off to the side. Blitzo and Moxxie soon recovered…but as they reached their friend, they only saw her burned, still body. Her eyes were black and lifeless, all her skin peeled.

“Millie, no!” Blitzo cried. Moxxie screamed as well, cradling her.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse…

A goopy slimy pink Millie stared at him with glowing white eyes, black blood raining from her eyes. Her black torn overalls were lopsided, and her hair was dripping in slime. Parts of her skin were cracked.

“The fuck happened to you?” Blitzo asked.

He soon got his answer as he was transported back to a beach on Earth. Verosika Mayday had tossed her drink into the ocean, causing a fish to morph into a hideous monster. The monster wrapped its tongue around a drunken Moxxie and snapped him up. Millie stabbed a man and threw a flaming Molotov cocktail at the beast. The fish stumbled and fell back into the water. Using her knife, Millie slid up along the monster’s body. With her knife in her mouth, she pried open the monster’s mouth, holding onto its teeth. A drunken Moxxie was punching the monster’s uvula.

Millie strained and reached out to Moxxie. Moxxie gave her a high five. Millie grabbed hold of Moxxie’s arm with one hand, balancing her stretched legs on the monster’s teeth. With a mighty slice, she sliced off the monster’s tongue, sending a piece of the tongue and Moxxie happily flying through the air. The tongue piece landed on the sand, and Blitzo caught the dazed Moxxie.

Moxxie cheered drunkenly.

To Blitzo’s surprise, the fish gave one last roar and disappeared back into the water.

There was no sign of Millie.

“FUUUUCCKKK, FUCK!” Blitzo screamed as he saw another flash of Millie trying to stab the monster in vain. Her stabs grew slower and slower until she dropped the knife. Her body convulsed and she gasped for air, trying to escape the monster’s teal stomach. She soon slipped and fell onto her back into teal-green acid. She gasped a few more ragged breaths, then her body went still. It soon turned a discolored pink and melted apart as the monster digested her.

Blitzo found himself staring at the floor. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

“You think you can change?” asked another grinning Millie.

“OH SHIT!” Blitzo thought. Glowing golden arrows protruded from Millie’s body, several through her chest and one having pierced her right eye.

Blitzo was soon forced to watch Millie and Moxxie spinning around the Earth opera theater, battling Cletus, Collin, and Keenie. Keenie took aim and her heavenly arrow pierced Millie in the eye.

“Millie!” cried Moxxie.

Millie gasped in the air, stunned that she had been hit. Another arrow fired through her chest and several more followed. Moxxie dropped to the ground and held his wounded wife. Seven arrows had pierced her body.

“I…love you…Mox…” she breathed before her head flopped to the side. Moxxie bellowed in sadness and rage as he continued his attack on the cherubs.

“YOU KILLED MY WIFE! ANGELLIC BASTARDS!”

Blitzo’s eyes filled with tears as Moxxie got shot in the head and collapsed to the stage floor, a golden arrow stuck in his forehead.

“It’s over, demon scum!” Cletus bellowed.

Blitzo stood frozen in fear as all three cherubs fired golden arrows toward his face…

“You’re not real! Go away!” Blitzo pleaded, back in the hotel.

Blitzo shuddered as the alternate Millie’s closed in.

“You’ll never stop fucking people’s lives up,” they groaned.

Blitzo stared at a more recent Millie, one with a broken arm and a missing leg.

In a flash, he could see Striker attacking Moxxie and Millie in a cabin. Striker grinned as he put Moxxie in a chokehold. Millie in a fit of rage, stabbed him repeatedly with her knife. She leaped onto his back and tried to slice his neck, but Striker slammed her against the wooden wall, and she collapsed.

“Millie…” Moxxie said weakly as Striker grinned overhead.

Striker tossed Moxxie and Millie down the stairs and into a cellar. Millie cried out as her leg got caught in a bear trap.

Striker grinned. “I’d kill y’all, but I feel like there’s more leverage with your rodeo clown of a boss if I don’t! Plus you little things ain’t worth the cleanup.”

Moxxie raced toward the exit, but a grinning Striker slammed the doors closed.

Moxxie pried off the bear trap from Millie’s leg. Black blood stained the floor.

“Millie! Oh, Satan!”

“Moxxie, I’m fine,” she reassured.

Moxxie pounded on the doors. “I can’t break through! I’m not strong enough.”

“Use what you’re good at,” said Millie.

“Oh right!” Moxxie said. He reached for his pistol to blast a hole in the doors to escape…

…only it wasn’t there.

“No! Striker took my gun!” Moxxie cried, pulling and yanking in vain at the doors. “Blitz! Blitz! Help us out!”

Moxxie soon sobbed as Millie lost consciousness and died in his arms.

Blitzo saw himself defeating Striker and saving Stolas…but the sight of Millie’s dead body was too much.

“I’m done, sir,” Moxxie cried. “You could’ve saved her.”

“Why didn’t you save us?” moaned all the Millies.

The Millie wearing the beanie hat flopped up and down before him, her face distorted like a zombie. He was holding her shoulders, and black blood was pouring from her bulging yellow eyes.

“When was the last time you actually loved someone without hurting them?” asked the distorted Millie, flopping on the floor.

Blitzo hyperventilated and ran for his life. He ran down endless hallways and then, standing as a silhouette with glowing yellow eyes…

“MOM!” Blitzo screamed. She was tall with long black hair, a red face, and she wore a purple dress with her signature red skull-like pendant. He was now a teenager and raced to her as fast as he could. She smiled warmly at him as he jumped into her arms.

“Momma,” Blitzo sobbed. “I was having the worst dream.” Tilla embraced Blitzo again.

“This isn’t a dream,” said a distorted voice. “This is your life…and it always will be.”

Blitzo stepped back as green flames sparked to life along her arms. The red pendant fell into his hands, the same one he wore as a necklace every day.

Blitzo’s worst nightmare had come true…green flames trialed through her hair, inching closer to her face.

“NO! NO, NO, NO, MOM! I’M SORRY!”

Her face burned before him, revealing her skull and teeth. Her glowing right eye fell out into his right hand.

“MOM, PLEASE I’M SORRY!”

He grabbed at her burning skull, desperately trying to reach her…but she soon vanished in sparks and smoke. Demonic laughter rang through the halls as Blitzo darted into a bedroom and cried in a ball on the floor.

Rolando: “Serves you right, Blitzo! I know the right memories to make people break!”

0 0 0

“Blitz?” Millie called. She crawled out of a vent and hopped onto the floor.

“Blitz, where are you?”

Millie froze and heard the sound of a door creaking open.

“Hello?”

She walked over to see Blitzo, only to find…

“Mox?!”

Moxxie had branches in his hair and a gaping bullet wound in his forehead. Black blood slowly poured from the hole in his head. His arms and legs were bent at awkward angles. Hammered-in nails protruded from his arms, chest and legs.

“That cursed family, those kids…they did this to me,” Moxxie cried. “And you weren’t there to save me!”

“What, what are you talking about?!” Millie backed away…

…and rammed into another Moxxie.

Millie screamed at the sight of Moxxie’s yellow peeling face, black empty eyes, torn black suit, and green flames dancing from the remains of his white hair.

“Too much of a battle-hungry brute to care for those you love?” moaned the burned Moxxie.

“Shut up! You ain’t real!” Millie cried.

“What is real? What is not?” laughed a drunken Moxxie creeping from the darkness. His eyes glowed white, his skin pink, his body giving off the appearance of melting. Parts of his flesh were torn, leaving exposed bone. “Couldn’t even save us from that fish,” groaned the melted Moxxie, swooning this way and that. “Just admit you’re weak!”

Millie swung her fists, trying to stand her ground as the alternate Moxxies closed in.

“You’ll always be the dumb farm girl, underappreciated by the rest of your imp friends…”

Millie seethed and backed away from another Moxxie who had golden heavenly arrows protruding from his body. “It’s obvious the angels don’t care for us either!”

“Stay away!”

“You should’ve stayed behind…should’ve stayed the obedient assassin in Wrath.”

Millie flinched as another Moxxie walked over to her…though he had a broken neck from being strangled by Striker.

“Getting into fights so much…” the Moxxie cracked his neck…

“…more will get hurt because of your recklessness.”

“BANKRUPTCY! BANKRUPTCY! BANKRUPTCY!” A more current Moxxie with bulging eyes grabbed hold of her and shook her hard. Millie shoved him off and ran for her life from the alternate Moxxie illusions.

She stopped against the wall to catch her breath. More demonic laughter echoed in the halls.

“Moxxie is safe…Moxxie is safe…” she told herself again and again. It was not very often she found herself scared to the bone.

She looked around. The lights flickered overhead again.

“I have to check on Blitz!”

Rolando: “That’s how it’s done! It was pretty easy to pick up on their thoughts. I don’t even have to see them. Alright, let’s go to the finale!”

“Come on, Blitz,” said Millie, following him out of the room. “What’s the only thing you know that comes to Earth and fucks with people’s minds that badly?”

“Probably an infestor possessor demon from Envy,” Blitzo responded.

“Bingo!” said Millie, snapping her fingers.

“So-ho, figured it out, have you?” asked a distorted voice. Millie and Blitzo looked around. They both got into fighting stances.

Rolando: “Be afraid little imps…be very afraid…”

A grinning Rolando stood in the distance. The round overhead lights flickered off.

“A bit out of your depth, aren’t you, little ones?” he hissed. His face and body morphed into his true demonic form, a humanoid sea monster with glowing yellow eyes, sharp teeth, fin-like ears and scaly skin.

The lightbulbs exploded above them, and the imps ran for their lives. Rolando’s demonic laughter echoed through the darkened hall. Rolando chased after him as a grinning hovering shadow with red eyes and bony hands.

Rolando: “HA! HA! Run little imps…I’ll still catch you!”

“Damn, our tiny fucking legs!” Blitzo panted as he sprinted as fast as he could. Sweat poured down their faces. Rolando appeared and disappeared in shadow as more lights exploded above him in yellow sparks. Rolando morphed himself into black goo, splashing and grabbing hold of Blitzo’s leg. Blitzo collapsed to the floor.

“You know my secret…” he hissed.

Millie raced over to help Blitzo but was lifted up in a chokehold by the shadowy Rolando. His eyes and grinning mouth glowed yellow. Blitzo reached out desperately to Millie.

“I guess you gotta die like all the reeesssttt!” Rolando hissed.

Rolando: “So long, imp scum!”

Millie and Blitzo were picked up by an invisible force. Blitzo screamed as he crashed through several walls and landed in the pool room. He banged his head against a column and coughed. Blitzo coughed and grunted as he sat up, holding his chest and wincing. The pool glowed an eerie green behind him.

Rolando: “My force should’ve ended them on the spot, to be honest. Going through all those walls…no one should survive that shit…”

A hand with three claws gripped the broken wall. Rolando grinned as he climbed through the copper pipes and into the area. His suit was now black with three white buttons on it. He wore sharp black boots. His white fin-like hair was transparent, and he wore glowing red sharp sunglasses with yellow trim. He displayed a row of sharp white teeth and a pointed chin like an undersea predator. His skin was a scaly gray.

He spoke distorted and demonic, “Oh this is fun!”

He leaped forward and kicked Blitzo hard in the face. He laughed evilly.

WHACK!

Millie responded with a high kick of her own. She sent Rolando into a nearby wall.

“Atta, girl, Mils!” Blitzo swung his fist. Millie grinned back at him.

Rolando: “Annoying little bitch…”

A grinning yellow face appeared on the surface of the water behind them. Both imps turned around as Rolando rose out of the water.

“No, thatta bitch!” he roared. He leaped forward and nearly grabbed Millie. He bent in a wide arch before righting himself on his knee. He then raced toward Blitzo and kneed him hard in the chin. He fell to the floor as Rolando flipped into the air toward Millie. Millie leaped toward him to attack, but he sent her down with a kick.

Blitzo narrowly avoided Rolando’s attack…his foot left the floor cracked where Blitzo had been moments before. Millie grunted and swung out her leg again, Rolando grinned and grabbed her foot, swinging her around. He grabbed hold of Blitzo as well, tossing them both into the pool. He grinned above them as they fell through the water.

Rolando: “You’re in my territory now, imps! *Growls* Now that I think of it, I really should’ve let them drown! Why didn’t I?! Why?”

As quick and deadly as a shark, Rolando zoomed through the water, his natural element. He slammed into Millie, pushing her into the wall with his head. She winced at the impact. He grabbed hold of her wrist and in a flip, slammed her against the pool floor. Holding onto Millie, he grinned as he swam to attack Blitzo. He grabbed onto Blitzo’s leg and leaped out of the water.

Blitzo and Millie cried out as Rolando slammed them both hard to the ground. He laughed evilly again as they both groaned on the floor.

Millie slowly groaned as she stood up. She helped Blitzo up and they stood together on shaking legs.

“You call yourselves assassins!” he mocked the imps. He moved his head, and all the lightbulbs shattered, leaving the room in darkness, save for the glowing pool. An invisible force rammed into the imps, knocking them backwards. The pillars cracked and yellow sparks rained down from the broken bulbs.

Rolando cocked his head. He hovered off the ground and spoke in an eerie voice.

“Eenie, meenie, miny…”

Blitzo and Mille looked up with terrified looks.

His glowing yellow eyes widened. “…mo!”

Millie and Blitzo screamed as Rolando flew at them and entered through each of their heads in black goo.

Blitzo and Millie found themselves chained to chairs in an old movie theater. They both grunted and struggled to get out in vain.

Rolando: “Yes, just to let you know, I messed with both of their minds, and man it was tons of fun! Though that Millie girl was pretty stubborn. Blitzo went through so much trauma, much easier prey for me.”

Rolando floated out of Blitzo and grinned. He licked his neck with his long yellow-green tongue and Blitzo flinched and whimpered.

“Welcome to the show, asshole,” Rolando mused. Rolando flew in an arch of black goo before settling in a seat behind him. He held a bag of popcorn in his hand.

“I hear this one’s a real titilator.” The curtains opened. He grinned and pointed at the screen. The screen was tinted green and did the old-fashioned round “3, 2, 1,” on the screen.

To Blitzo’s utter horror, his own memories flashed before him. He saw the fire at Loo-Loo Land, with imps and circus horses racing for their lives. Blitzo saw himself racing to save his mother…but only managing to find her red pendant. He held it tightly in his hands.

He saw the angry face of his father…and cried out at the sight of his father hitting him.

Blitzo began to cry as he saw a memory of Fizzarolli being burned on the ground. His father glared at him as Fizzarolli rested in the hospital in the background. Blitzo tried to reach Fizzarolli, but his father blocked his path.

Then Blitzo remembered the times when he was mocked by Robo-Fizz, and another moment when Verosika berated him during her song at Ozzie’s.

He could remember how he had felt lonely and left out when Moxxie and Millie kissed each other during their missions.

Rolando sneered and manifested rusted chains to hold Blitzo’s horns in place. He clamped open Blitzo’s tear-filled eyes, making him watch more.

He saw when he had gotten into an argument with Loona at the beach during spring break. Loona shoved Blitzo to the ground on Earth after Octavia had been found. Then the awful moment when Barbie Wire yelled at Blitzo for ruining her job…screaming that she never wanted to see him again.

Then the scenes with Stolas…how Blitzo had pulled away when Stolas had tried to comfort him at Ozzie’s. When Stolas had left him in the van…when Stolas declared that he wanted to break up with him…Stolas giving him the Asmodean crystal as a way of saying goodbye…Stolas and Veorsika and Vortex singing about how Blitzo was a motherfucker at the Blitzo hate party on Earth…Stolas’s sad drunken face…Stolas making out with the pink male incubus, their tongues locked together…Millie berating him for his cosplay…

“Blitz!” Millie strained in her chair next to him. “Snap out of it!”

“Silence, bitch!” Rolando snapped. “Don’t try to ruin our little fun…you’re next!”

“We’ll get out of this mess, Blitz!” Millie strained against the chains.

Rolando flew toward Millie. “Oh, the filthy little Wrathian wants to help!”

Rolando licked her neck as well. “You can’t help anyone, you’re just the muscle, remember?”

The screen shifted and soon Millie’s memories began to play on screen. Millie gasped as she saw the disapproving looks from her parents after she had told them she was going freelance.

Then she saw the stern face of her overlord from her first job…a heavyset imp with a broad ax and spines along his back. He had told her to kill twenty rogue demons before several coworkers by the end of the day…the assassins who failed would be killed in front of them. Millie had been grateful to have survived the ordeal.

Rolando: “I could’ve easily gotten into Loona and Moxxie, too. And that Stolas royal guy. I heard Loona was abandoned and stuck in a cell most of her life. And poor old Moxxie lived with his abusive mafia father who killed his mother. Heheheheh, Moxxie wouldn’t stand a chance! I’ve heard of the Goetia, but they’re nothing to Leviathan and the other Sins. I wish I could’ve possessed them all…though four against one would’ve been cutting it kinda close…”

“Fighting is all you and your imp kind are good for. You said it yourself.”

Millie flinched in disgust at the sight of Chaz’s arrogant face…the shark teen bragging about himself and rubbing himself on top of her. Rolando snickered in the background.

“Let us go, asshole!” Millie hollered.

“I’m in your minds, bitches!” he called to the straining imps. “I see everything. Every thought, every opinion and boy…”

He grinned. “…you both have nasty shit to say about the other…”

“Don’t listen to him,” called Millie.

Blitzo paused. “Hey, I don’t see my memories anym…”

Rolando morphed back near Blitzo, and his memories played across the screen again.

“NO! STOP!” Blitzo screamed, tears running down.

“Your level of insecurity is intoxicating,” Rolando purred. “I can’t wait to see how you taste when you drive away the one person left who puts up with your bullshit.”

Rolando laughed. “Blitzo thinks you’re a brute, Millie! Too stupid to do anything but kill!”

“That’s not true!” Millie protested.

“You never should’ve left the farm! You’re nothing but a backwards, filthy, inbred, lowborn fucking hick!”

Millie rolled her eyes. “Ya done?”

“Excuse me?”

Rolando paused then grinned. “Oh no. I’m just getting started, my dear.”

Rolando spoke to both of them. “Nobody cares about you guys or what you want. They’re too caught up in their own misery to even remember you exist. Especially you, girl.”

“Now look here, combover,” Millie glared. “You may think you know everything, but you missed two. One, your words don’t mean shit to me and two…Blitz can handle this!”

“Can he now? Can you?”

Rolando grinned as Blitzo’s memories played.

“It would be a shame if you two decided to take…a little swim with me…”

Millie and Blitzo’s possessed bodies stood up, both eyes glowing blank yellow. Rolando moved back and forth from Millie to Blitzo. Their bodies inched slowly toward the pool, robotic in motion. Millie sat near the edge of the pool as her memories played. When Rolando moved back to Blitzo, Blitzo’s body dropped down into the water like a rock.

Blitzo and Millie gasped in horror.

Rolando: “So close to killing them! Making them drown and then I could’ve feasted on their bodies in the pool!”

Millie then realized her memories weren’t on screen. “Blitz! He can only possess us fully one at a time!”

Blitzo’s eyes widened then he winked.

“Blitz can handle this!” Millie said again.

“Oh no he can’t!” Rolando countered, getting closer to Blitzo. “He’ll be swimming with the fishes before long!”

Blitzo felt himself gasping for breath and Rolando laughed. Blitzo’s memories were starting to go dark.

With Rolando distracted, Millie used her strength to slowly break free of her chains.

“You’re wrong. So buckle up, buttercup!” Millie spat at Rolando.

When Rolando got too close, Mille whirled around and slapped Rolando in the face with a free hand. The impact caused Rolando to lose his grip on Millie’s body. He smacked her in the head, and she winced.

Rolando: “Rude little hick!”

“Just wait until I finish off your pathetic little boss friend!”

He moved toward Blitzo, sinking his body further.

Millie closed her eyes, and the pool room slowly came back into focus.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on…”

Millie shook herself awake and saw a drowning figure in the water.

“Blitz!”

She dove in and pulled him up. Rolando used Blitzo to try and drag her back in, but Millie slipped out of his grip and raced onto the deck.

“Come and get me, fishbrain!” called Millie.

Possessed Blitzo growled.

The possessed Blitzo climbed out of the water and attacked her with his fists, which she blocked. He wrapped her with his tail, shoving her aside. Millie dodged his foot as he flipped over. Rolando grabbed her arm and spun her around. He spun her in a dance then knocked his head into her. He then tossed her over the pool and onto the other side. Rolando swam through the water and leaped out with a splash at Millie.

He lifted her up and slammed her into a pillar, which cracked on impact. He spun in a loop around another pillar and aimed his feet at her. She moved back and dodged his landing. She then dodged every one of his fists.

Millie then grinned and swooped her foot under his, sending him to the floor. Millie then gripped both his arms from behind.

Rolando: “How dare she beat me?! I had her! She should’ve surrendered!”

“Like I said, combover, your words don’t mean shit to me!” Millie smirked. She punched him in the face and tossed him into a wall. Rolando was then punched and beaten rapidly by Millie’s fury of punches to his face and gut. The wall cracked from behind him. Rolando cried out, spitting black blood.

“This is what you get for messing with my friend!” Millie hollered. She grunted and with her strength, she slammed him against the floor. Rolando turned around…

WHAM!

Millie finished him off with a roundhouse kick to the chin. He collapsed, Blitzo’s head hanging partially in the water. Blitzo’s mouth opened, and Rolando flew out from his mouth in a black gooey shadow.

Rolando: “That was fucking unpleasant…”

Blitzo slowly blinked and sat up, rubbing his head. “Ugh, good work, Mils.”

“Oh-ho!” Blitzo cried out as Millie punched him in the face. “AH FUCK, IT’S ME!”

Millie covered her mouth. “Oh! Shit! Sorry!” She chuckled, bending down. “It’s good to have you back, boss.”

Rolando hoisted himself up, dripping wet on the floor.

“You little ass plugs are done for! You’re dead, Bethany!”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” Blitzo said, walking over to him, holding his device. “I ain’t Bethany Ghostfucker…”

He spoke with newfound confidence, “Tonight I’m Blitz, DEMON-DICKER!”

Blitzo yelled and slapped Rolando with his device. He fell into the pool.

Rolando: “Blitzo, you little…”

Rolando lifted up his head. He shrugged his shoulders, putting out his hands as if to say “What the fuck? I’m in my natural element.”

Blitzo then kicked his ghostfucker device into the water.

Rolando: “Oh shit…”

The device sank into the water and electricity sparked and zigzagged across the surface. Rolando realized too late that he was in danger.

The fish screamed in agony as he was fried by the electricity. His glasses exploded and his yellow eyes melted as black blood gushed out from them. His screams turned distorted. His body and head sank to the bottom.

Rolando: “NOOOO!  NO, NO, NO! WHY? LEVIATHAN, THAT WAS FUCKING HORRIBLE!”

Blitzo raised his fist in triumph. “AAANNND THAT’S HOW YOU GET GHOSTFUCKED!”

Millie embraced Blitzo. “Let’s go home.”

Blitzo grinned and kicked open the doors. “Yeah, fuck hotels.”

Rolando: *Pauses the video and screams in rage*

Rolando: “KILLED IN MY OWN ELEMENT! GOD THAT WAS AGONIZING! BLITZO! MILLIE! YOU LITTLE BOTTOMFEEDERS WILL PAY FOR THIS!”

Rolando: *Deep breaths and growls*

Rolando: “Fuck…alright, you want me to watch the rest? Too fucking bad! I’m skipping the rest because I’m not in it! I can’t believe this! If I could meet them again, I’d skip the mind playing and tear those little shits apart!”

Rolando: “You still here, human? Unless you can bring me back to life or have thoughts of despair for me to feed on, GET LOST!”

…

…

Rolando: *Looks at empty bag* “And get me some more popcorn while you’re at it!”

[wytfut]

Minneapolis

A few days ago, Luke my middle Son, suggested a documentary he had watched.

Its on Youtube... runs about 1 hour 40 minutes if interested. Titled "the Fall of Minneapolis".

It affected him. He couldn't really decide what to think of it, or how it affected him but it did.

This is awesome in my opinion, as any movie/documentary, sci fi, murder, drama.... if it affects you some way, it did its job. Not to many do that any more. Irks me when a highly marketed film gets me nothing more than a soft "oh..."

Patti has a hard time with "sad" movies, and if she knows it will be sad, she won't watch it. Where as I will, because I know it may affect me.

This documentary, deals with corruption within Minneapolis's government, plus some negatives towards the media. All after the George Floyd incident.

I had issues with the incident. The tactic shown on his shoulder/neck looked to be a little ruthless... but I'm no cop. In the photo an officer nondescript looking up, almost into a yawn.

I heard early on an autopsy report he had several drugs in his system, including fentnyl. For what ever reason here in the flatlands that subject seemed to disappear thru the rest of the circus to follow.

....

The media imo, currently is unregulated, and holds no standards to prove credibility. News today, is all about "what sells news". They all copy off each other believing each knows what they are talking about. The days of Cronkite/Huntley/Brinkley telling everyone that eating shit is good for you..... is gone. America believed in these guys, and they were a good solid news source most of the time.

I have to include the company that made this documentary in this group too. As I find very few that are honest real news sources that have no sway with politics or money. I don't know this company, or their work ethic.... so I'm tossing them into this box.

My favorite go to, but hard to just sit down for an hour and listen is "Democracy Now". I've seen it attack Obama, Trump, and other favorite people of hi exposure. Although they are totally a nonprofit news source, there could still easily be a dirty secret. Who is a good neutral news source? I have no idea anymore.

......

This documentary is presented very well, with purpose, and easy to follow. It definitely wasn't a low budget film.

As the documentary unfolds, it starts a few minutes before George Floyds incident. And then shows and translates all body cam videos and audio.

This part was very enlightening. I was very surprised to say the least. This incident from these moments wasn't really dealing with bad cops, but a guy that was out of control.

Once he died, there was an immediate autopsy. This autopsy, within hours became "null and void", as higher ups wanted a different autopsy done by their own person (federal or state, I can't remember).

The 2 autopsy's didn't line up. The second one was vague, compared to a detailed report.

The first one went away, showing way more that could affect the outcome of these cops. It was not permitted by the courts.

Most of the body cam videos were also not permitted by the courts. Many of these videos for some unknown reason were never released to the public for viewing.

Private phone videos were allowed, one notorious one we have all seen, taken by an off duty fire fighter.

Some things that I didn't know: The arresting officer for George Floyd was black. The fire dept. didn't receive correct address from 911 for unknown reasons, thus the 20 minute delay of their arrival for an 8 block drive. The cops called for an ambulance as soon as they got him on the ground.... long before he passed. The "ruthless" hold I commented about before, was an actual move fully recognized and approved by the police department in each of the officers training manuals. The higher ups all denied that that move was allowed (think, the cops were trained to use this move, and it was "ok" to do it). The police department, pretty much let the rioters "have" precinct 34, even though it wasn't in any real jeopardy at that moment of "evacuation".

.......

Ok, so you got the jist. A lot of horrible things came from this incident, all across our country.

This incident presented as it is by this documentary company shows possibility that it actually was completely different than what the media portrayed or the higher ups in the city allowed. This shows that it is so very easy to take video out of context. Much easier than I have ever suspected, and changed my impression from here on out.

.....

I can't believe/understand the agenda of these folks that controlled everything. Are they that ruthless to let all that damage, death, and ruining the careers of good people, just so they look good in the publics eye?

Yeah, I'm leaning towards the direction presented by this documentary. I'm not 100% in, as it is just another news company. But it affected me too, enough I'm still thinking about it today. And yup, thats a good thing.

[heyitsjooooanne]

Devastation

From Chicklit's prompt 8 on Wattpad:

"You just discovered that you're pregnant. That should be good news, because you've always wanted to have children. The thing is, you just broke up with the father less than 24 hours ago and it was a pretty bad break up."

Author's Note: My attempt at ChickLit's Prompt 8 from their "Prompts to Share" book on Wattpad. Although it's not very "chicklit" friendly. Or maybe it could be? I don't know. It seems more like a drama.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Claudia stared at the dark line in front of her.

No way.

No way.

She tossed the pregnancy test in the trash.

"There!"

Somehow, she thought that would make it null and void.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

"But I thought you really wanted kids?" her friend questioned her over the phone.

"I do. I just figured I'd have them with someone less..."

"Two-faced?" her friend suggested.

"That's not very nice, Rose."

"Please. After seeing you break down in tears with snot coming out of your nose, that asshole is as good as dead to me."

"I..."

Claudia laughed, but it came out as a sigh.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

"What did the doctor say?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow at her.

"Mom..."

Claudia picked up a box of crackers and put it into the shopping cart.

She looked around.

"Where's dad?"

"He's over by the bakery."

Her mother pointed in the direction of the bakery where sure enough, her father was perusing around the boxes of croissants and brownies.

They looked at each other knowingly.

"So?" her mother insisted again.

Claudia sighed.

"You better get those baby clothes ready. You're gonna be a grandmother!"

"Ah!"

She wrapped her daughter in a tight hug.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

"Twins?!"

Claudia couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yes. See?"

The technician pointed at the ultrasound screen.

Claudia looked and sure enough, she could see two forms on the screen.

Shit.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Claudia paced around her living room.

"What are you gonna do?" Rose asked her, lounging on the couch.

Claudia stopped in her tracks as her mind wandered back to that day...

"What the hell, Travis?" Claudia asked a young man at his apartment door.

She held up her phone with a text message conversation that had been exchanged between them recently.

let's break up

i'm sorry

but I'll always love you

Travis' expression remained unchanged.

"You can't read?"

Claudia blinked.

"What's wrong with you?"

She stepped closer to him, but he backed away.

"If you come any closer, I'll report you for trespassing."

"Travis!"

She tried to step through his open door but he used his arm to block her.

"Please..."

Her eyes began to fill with tears.

"I already told you. It's over."

And with that, Travis shut the door in front of her.

But Claudia was determined.

"Travis!"

She banged her fists against the door.

"Travis!"

Silence.

"Travis?" she said, sobbing.

"Claudia?"

Rose's voice brought her back to the present.

"Yeah?"

"What are you gonna do?"

Claudia put her hands on her stomach.

She immediately felt the two fetuses movements inside her womb.

"I'm gonna tell him."

Rose sat up straighter on the couch.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I have to Rose."

"You really don't."

"He's their dad."

"And? He's an asshole."

"Rose—"

"Claudia."

Rose adjusted herself so she could sit cross-legged, then she folded her hands in her lap.

"You were crying over him on and off for three months."

"I know, but—"

"No, you don't get it."

Rose paused for a brief moment.

"I already tried speaking to him."

"Rose! Why would you do that?"

"Because even though he broke your heart, I still wanted to see if there was anything I could do. So I sent him a message on MyFace seven months ago."

"You told him I was pregnant?"

"No. I just kept spamming him and demanding that he explain things. I even told him how upset you were but he never responded. Bastard even turned off the 'seen' sticker so I don't even know if he saw them."

"Travis never did like getting multiple texts," Claudia said matter-of-factly.

"Hmm. And how did he respond whenever you got upset? Because I started telling him about the emotional devastation you went through because of him. And you know what he did? Nothing."

Claudia stayed silent.

"He loved you for three years, and then suddenly—"

She snapped her fingers.

"He stopped loving you. And then he had the nerve to post that 'single and heartbroken' status on his profile like it was your idea to break up."

Claudia reached for a cup on the table next to her and drank a sip of water.

It was all she could do to stop her hand from shaking.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ring!

"Can someone get that?" Claudia's father yelled.

Claudia glanced at the door of her parents' home and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, god. Mom, could you look after him?"

Her mother stretched out her hands so Claudia could place the four month baby in her arms.

She gently kissed his forehead.

"I'll be back, Clarence. Grandma will look after you."

She pointed at her mother.

"Grandma," she repeated to him with a smile.

She walked away from the two of them and made her way to the door, passing her father and Rose on the floor with the other baby Jeff, who was on a soft blanket.

She turned around and bent down to give Jeff a kiss on the cheek.

"How's he doing?"

"Pretty good," Rose told her.

"Little guy definitely loves cuddles," her father said.

The doorbell rang again.

"I need to get that."

Claudia continued for the door.

She placed her hand over the doorknob, but she paused.

What if?

No.

Don't get your hopes up.

She took a deep breath.

Then she opened the door.

"Oh."

'Hi, Claudia."

Claudia turned around to look at the scene behind her, then back at him.

"Hi, Shawn."

She turned around again to shut the door behind her.

"I almost thought you were Travis."

"Just me, I'm afraid."

"How did you know I was at my parents house?"

"Town gossipers. I bumped into your mom's friend at the grocery store this morning."

Claudia chuckled.

"Of course."

He stroked the bottom of his chin with his finger.

"Listen...Is there anywhere private we can talk? Maybe I can drive you to the park down the street."

"Shawn, I can't—"

"Your babies will be fine. And anyway, this has to do with their dad."

"Why? Is he at the park?"

Why couldn't he face me himself?

"No. But we really need to talk."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Shawn drummed his fingers on the car dashboard as they sat in the parked car.

"Travis is dead."

Claudia felt all the air leave her chest.

"What?"

She turned to look at Shawn.

"No."

Shawn rubbed the corner of his nose with his finger.

"Yes."

He placed both of his hands on the steering wheel, possibly to steady himself.

"Travis he..."

He took a breath.

"Travis got on the wrong side of a shady businessman. Told him he wasn't gonna let the man get away with bossing him around just because he was rich. The next day, he got a threat on his life."

Claudia thought back to the week Travis' demeanor suddenly changed...

Claudia stood behind Travis who was in front of the stove cooking something.

She wrapped her arms around his back and rested her head on his right shoulder.

"What are you making?"

"Something," he told her playfully.

"Tell me."

"Come see for yourself."

"I can't look over your shoulder, I'm too short."

She felt his stomach heave as he laughed.

"Lazy. Lazy."

"Hey!"

She leaned over to the right and found him searing chicken cutlets in oil.

She looked up at him.

"Taquitos?"

"Yep."

"I'll take fifty."

"Damn. Hungry are we?"

"Very."

She rubbed his shoulders, then looked around the kitchen.

"I'll help you."

"Thanks."

She let go of him and went over to the refrigerator to get the rest of the ingredients.

Buzz! Buzz!

"Do you want me to get that?" she asked him as she looked around the refrigerator trying to decide what would go in their dinner.

"No, I got it."

She shrugged.

"Hmm."

She pulled out a bag of shredded cheddar cheese.

"This could work."

She closed the refrigerator door

"Travis, did you eat the last two avocado—"

She found him staring at his phone.

"Travis?"

He looked up, his expression tense.

"What is it?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing. It's just..."

He put the phone back down on the dining table nearby.

"Just Shawn getting himself into trouble again."

"Typical."

"Yeah."

She placed her head on the dashboard as tears spilled out of her.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Claudia sat down in front of Travis' headstone.

"Two months."

She looked up at Shawn, who was looking down at her glumly.

"He was dead for two months and not one of his friends thought to reach out and tell me. Including you."

Shawn raised his shoulders up and down quickly out of nervousness, then he put his hands in his black leather jacket.

"It wasn't safe for you to know yet."

"Bullshit!"

She got up.

"You know what? It's not even your fault. Or any of Travis' other friends. He should have told me this himself! He should have been brave enough to tell me himself!"

"He really wanted to. But he got threats on his apartment all the time. If he let you back in, you would've been a target too."

"I don't care! I want—"

She rubbed her hand against her forehead.

"I just want him here with me," she said hoarsely.

Shawn could do nothing for her, except watch her cry.

But somewhere in the back of his mind...

He really wanted to comfort her.

Hold her close.

Tell her everything would be alright.

And that the hitman who killed Travis would be brought to justice.

But he also knew the chances of any of that happening were slim to none.

And that right there...

That was the source of his devastation.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author's Note: ???? Writing a full length story is hard so I'm gonna end it here. And it was just from a writing prompt anyway.