#80s was all about the red/yellow demon eyes

[talesfromthecrypts]

Marina Pierro in The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osbourne

[allysdelta]

A while ago, while the Good Omens graphic novel was running its Kickstarter campaign, I saw the character designs for the Ineffable Duo and got inspired to create my own. Some of the details are still in flux, but I'm really quite pleased with how their basic looks have turned out and I'd like to draw them in comic form someday.

Notes on design and color choices under the readmore.

Though originally I'd intended for Aziraphale to be the shorter of the two, I like the implications that he still retains some vestiges of the angelic soldier he once was -- that hint in the way he carries himself that he could become very dangerous indeed if he has to. As a bonus, when Crowley became the smaller one, it emphasizes his personality, both as someone who must seek hiding places to avoid harm and as the guile hero who relies on his wits to survive and even thrive. So now we have a soft angel with a steel core and a pointy little garter snake of a demon.

They're not tied to any specific ethnicities, being celestial entities, but they both appear brown, partially because I like the nod to the Fertile Crescent housing the first known examples of human civilization, but largely because no one can stop me. Crowley ended up with a vaguely East Asian complexion and eyes, while Aziraphale has features that faintly echo the Middle East. Don't ask me about the halo of chestnut curls -- I don't know where that came from, but Aziraphale insisted.

Like his show counterpart's, Crowley's eyes get more snakelike when he's stressed, upset, angry, or exhausted. I gave him the presence of a sclera for the sake of facial expression, but because I didn't want to entirely lose the reptilian look, it now has a yellow tint. (I haven't designed his snake form yet, but it's based on a bush viper for their pretty scale textures and their cute little snub noses)

Aziraphale's eyes have a burst of sunlight yellow around the pupils, a feature I saw once on a real-life acquaintance and thought beautiful. The green-hazel irises are just 'cause I like them.

Surprising absolutely no one, Crowley's clothing scheme is blacks, grays, and reds, with flashes of silver. I haven't done any research on whether leather blazers were a thing in the late 80s, but it seemed very appropriate for him to wear, and it's a little nod to Neil Gaiman's liking for leather jackets as well.

Aziraphale wears heavenly colors (white, blue, gold) close to his chest, while the rest of his clothing grounds him with earth tones. He's just a little more up to date on fashion than the show's Aziraphale (whose clothes skew Victorian), but he still wears clothing that wouldn't look out of place in the 1950s.

I probably make Aziraphale a little too handsome compared to his descriptions in the book, but I like how it makes him all the more infuriating when he's being condescending. Like, you bastard, how dare you look that hot while you're lecturing me. Poor Crowley.

[aziraphales-library]

hello lovely people!

i was wondering if there were any historical fics that specifically look at queer history? it could be just aziraphale or just crowley, them together or not together. it could be as far back as sappho and as recent as legalisation of gay marriage.

thank you!

Hi! We have #queer history, #pride parade, and #queer guardian angel aziraphale tags on which you will find fics of interest. Here are more to add to the queer history collection...

An Angel and a Demon Walk Into a Bar- and there is No Punchline Because this is the 80s and Everyone is Sad, Gay and Repressed by DontOffendTheBees (M)

“So you’re not here to dance.” Crowley ducks his head, his long and impressively voluminous hair tumbling about his face as he nudges his aviators down his nose, peering at Aziraphale with those cunning yellow eyes over the top of them. He smirks like the wily old serpent he is, savouring the next words he speaks. “Now, what else could possibly lure a confirmed bachelor such as yourself to an establishment like this?” In which Aziraphale gravitates to the comfort of a queer space, and winds up in need of further comforting.

and at least in this lifetime (we're sticking together) by vivelegalite (T)

[GOD, NARRATING] People tend to be torn as to which side could be credited with legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America. Most people consider it an act of Good, which it is of course, and attribute it to Heaven. Some, a much less pleasant lot, argue it to be the work of Hell. They tend to back their claims up with improperly translated lines from a book the Almighty had never actually written or even really bothered to read through — I tend to outsource that kind of work — and speak of God’s will and whatnot. Both groups are, however, mistaken. The legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America was brought about not by Heaven, not by Hell, but by a tragically smitten demon with a rather high alcohol concentration and a plan.

Eziraphael's Gifts: A History of Queer Faith and Longing, by Natasha Marie Johnson (Beacon Press, 2019). by actualbat (G)

"If Eziraphael has come to be known--in today's language--as the 'guardian angel of sad queers,' then it makes sense for him to have shown up more regularly in the past once that became a recognizable historical category." Natasha is really glad that she's given this talk enough times to be able to do it on autopilot, because those two funny-looking men in the back just made the most absurdly astonished faces. (Or: Not all historians ignore gay subtext, and not all immortal celestial beings have their shit together. Also, voodoo.)

it's the light (it's the obstacle that casts it) by bibliocratic (T)

It's like having a curtain pulled back on something he wasn't expecting to see. A surprise punch-and-judy at an up-scale restaurant, a lobster thermidor when he's ordered an ale. Crowley's gleefully trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aziraphale is speaking Polari. Because of course he is. Or: The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho.

Under the Blazing Sun, Thy Footsteps Track by Elfgrandfather (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley keep finding themselves mixed up with a rather queer lot, and eventually have to contend with what it might mean, both about their own identities and their relationship to each other.

Surpassing All the Stars by KannaOphelia (M)

There was a faint tracing of scales along the woman's cheekbones, tracing down her thin arms and lean thighs. The nipples on her pale, almost flat breasts were dark as night. Fiery red curls fell over dagger-sharp shoulders sprayed gently with more black scales, and the golden eyes were wide and snake-like. The woman was beautiful, but hardly human. "Crawly," the woman said with disgust. "Was that the best you could do, angel?" "I said I didn't have much imagination." Aziraphale's lips were heavy, and she was almost sure she wasn't forming the words properly. There was some kind of spell over her, holding her almost immobile. The venom must have been paralytic. If she had been human, she supposed she would have been dead. Her corporation didn't like it much either. "What name would you prefer I use for you?" The stranger tipped her head on one side, considering. "Crowley?" Aziraphale almost laughed. The whole situation was simply too irritating. If she was to die now, at the hands of some local deity, the paperwork hardly bore thinking about. And her precious work on Sappho's poetry, gone. "Crowley, then. You're a nymph of some kind, I take it?"

- Mod D

[red-n-ded]

The Ultimate Team-Up (reverse!AU)

Miguel Davidson, also known as Mirage, tries to steal rare 1994 Dodge Viper for money, unaware that it's a young Autobot in disguise with a protective green Dodge Challenger as a brother.

or

A Transformers Reverse AU of Noah meeting Mirage and the Autobots in Rise of the Beasts then joining forces to get the Transwarp key

Ao3 Fic Sneak Peek Below

Miguel Davidson remembers what the world looked like before it all went to shit. He remembers living in a beautiful home under blue skies and luscious green grass with smiling parents.

But that was when he was barely out of college.

Smog and grime fill the atmosphere and the smiles on his parents’ face are lifeless and covered in blood. Manipulated and brainwashed civilians walk the streets cheering the names of Megatron and his Decepticon task force with UniCorp’s face and logo painted on every flat surface on Earth.

For a while, Miguel felt alone in this dystopian world, just messing with officials and stealing cars and technology left and right when. He couldn’t leave all the credit to him, much thanks to his charisma and maybe a bit of help from his hologram tech. At least he's putting his optical engineering degree to some use.

They call him the Mirage, the illusionist thief. Kind of flattering. 

Mirage.

Kind of dumb but it fits.

Luckily for him, he’s not the only one with a dumb nickname.

Benjamin O’Brien, or Bumblebee the young speed demon insists Mirage to call him, was the first friend he made while wandering the 1984-remake environment. They met during a protest and they found each other as roommates when they were hiding.

Months later, they found each other as teammates when the scout convinced his leader, Orion Cullen or Optimus, to let the thief join their rebellion.

Bee doesn’t talk much, both literally and figuratively. Mirage knows a little bit about him.

He’s a few months younger than him, likes 80’s music, hates the Smiths but listens to them 24/7, dreamed of being a race car driver since he was little, and is a scout for the Freedom Racers, followed by stories of raids he led with the yellow Camaro he built from scratch in the racing pits of Optimus’ speedway.

Bee is also mute.

After a year living and working together, Bee told Mirage the story of losing his voice in a riot a few years back. Decepticon member Blaze Sobolov, nicknamed Blitzwing, shot him in the throat, getting multiple pieces of metal lodged in his vocal cords. From that day on, Bee now speaks through a built-in radio and soundboard in his smartwatch with the occasional sign language.

It didn’t bother him before but as time went by, his throat started to get infected, swollen and red. The team feared the worst if left untreated but they’re not in the position to go to the hospital and get help, afraid of getting caught by the Decepticons.

Mirage isn’t willing to wait for Bee’s throat to fully close up and goes out to do what he does best; Steal.

He got a tip that someone is willing to give loads of cash in exchange for luxury cars, specifically ones hiding in UniCorp parking lots. That money will allow Mirage to buy the materials he needs to build a magnet that could keep the metal pieces away from Bee’s throat and temporarily save him. It's only until the revolution is over and they can go to a real doctor.

Sneaking in was the easiest part. A few holograms here and there and he was within seconds. He wandered the parking lot holding a photo of the targeted car, careful to not make noises in the cramped concrete building. Luckily for him, it didn’t take too long for him to find it.

Two cars lay in front of him in the corner of the first floor.

One is a forest green 1970 Dodge Challenger, looking slightly beat up with scratches near the bottom of the metal and the bumpers.

Parked right next to it is a bright orange 1994 Dodge Viper RT/10. It shined as a distinct opposite of the old Challenger. The paint is shined and polished with a brightness that burns his eyes and the metal looks so smooth as if it was manufactured straight out of the factory.

“Goddamn!” He exclaims almost jumping in excitement. Getting this money will be easier than he thought.

“Do you hear that?”

“Shit.” Mirage quickly covers his mouth, realizing the echo from his excitement. Footsteps and mumbles of soldiers made Mirage flinch, quickly crouching down to hide behind the Viper.

The thief muffles his excitement, giddily shuffling towards the orange Viper, brushing his hands over the clean paint, a smile leaking onto his face. He does smell some rust near the undercarriage as he crouches. Mirage worries for a moment that it might affect the price but waves it off. Some air fresheners and a bit of charm could cover it up. 

Ignoring the rust, this car alone would be enough to pay for Bee’s magnet five times over. In addition with the Challenger, which with a bit of paint and buffers, doesn’t look too banged up-

“We’ll check it out later.”

Oh well, one will do.

Mirage quickly got to work. He stands up next to the driver’s seat, pulls out a wire from his bag and snuck it into the lock, pulling it to hear the click of the lock.

“Mirage is in.” The blue-haired rebel whispers, excited to get his ticket to extra cash out of the concrete parking lot. Unfortunately for him, it was quickly short lived when the lock went back down.

CLICK!

For a moment, Mirage was confused but quickly brushed it off to try again.

Then he tries again. And again. And again.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

“You’re a real piece of shit.” Mirage wants to laugh. It’s as if the car is making fun of him, like it’s playing a game that only it knows the rules. Or maybe it just doesn't want Mirage to get inside.

“That’s how you want to play then.” Mirage grumbles, trying to ignore the fact that he’s scolding a car like a naughty child, before pulling on the wire again to get the lock loose. Before the car could lock it back in, Mirage pulls on the door handle to open. 

“Ah ha! Gotcha!”

The thief immediately hops into the navy blue and black leather interior, bouncing on the seat and drumming his palms on the steering wheel. He sits back and lets himself breathe, taking in the mix of bitter iron and new car smell and feeling the plastic of the dashboard and radio.

“Now this is what we call a car.” He mumbles before bending down to hotwire the car, pulling out a piece of the dashboard under the steering wheel to reveal multiple wires hanging out but burnt red and black dust fall from the compartment making Mirage cough. There’s even rust inside? Jeez, who owned this thing? Some car care.

Small sparks light up the dark car as he tries to start up the car with routine ease. The car starts to rumble a bit, waking from the sparks. For a moment though, he sits back up with a smirk to look back at the black and green Challenger, “Don’t get jealous, baby. I’m coming back for you later.”

“NYPD! Come out of the vehicle with your hands up!”

Shit.

Mirage turns towards the window and outside a couple feet away from the car are two police officers, aiming their guns at him with stoic expressions. The thief doesn’t even flinch, rolling his eyes and his cocky smirk returning his face. He rolls down the window and leans his head out the door.

“Hello officers. How may I help you?” Mirage asks with a natural suave, hoping the two will be distracted enough for his two hands to finish hotwiring the car.

The police don’t waiver from his charisma but are confused at his unshaken confidence. “The hell? We said to come out of the car! Or we will engage!”

Mirage laughs but he fumbles the wires a bit faster, “Sounds like the night shift is getting to you. How about we relax, go out for donuts or somethin’?”

One of the officers leaned over to the other, guns still pointing at the thief, “Sir, that’s Mirage. He’s one of the rebel racers. The one with the holograms.”

Mirage’s smirk grows into a big grin, “I see my reputation precedes me. Want an autograph or-”

The car’s radio buzzes to life, interrupting Mirage’s retort. His smile shrinks into a worried stare. The dials spin frantically between different stations before buzzing in white noise. If Mirage listens close enough, he can hear a voice.

“Kris! Bzzt! Kris! Bzzt! Can you hear me?” An urgent voice filters through the static, almost too buzzed for Mirage to translate but enough for him to slightly recognize a few words.

“The hell?”

“Are you listening to me?!” Mirage’s head shot up from the radio to the officers, looking more annoyed than before and slowly creeping up towards the car. “Get out of that car or we will shoot!”

“Screw this. I’ll get you pretty boys later.” The white noise continues to buzz in the back and Mirage, not willing to push any more buttons, rushes to open the door. He grabs the door handle and pushes to open but the sudden noise of the lock startles the thief, even more when the door refuses to open. “What the hell?”

“Kris. Bzzt! Please calm down. Bzzt! Just unlock the doors.”

“Who’s Kris?” Mirage yells amidst his confusion. 

“Get out of the car!” The officers are barely five feet away from the car door and his grip on the handgun grows tighter on the trigger.

“I can’t!” Mirage yells through the glass, banging on the window and kicking the frame, "It won't open!"

“You have three seconds to get out of the car!” One of the officer’s threatened as the safety of the gun clicking.

His original confidence has all but faded away, staring at the two uniformed men with panicked eyes. He’s not going to get caught now. He punches the doors and digs his heels into the plastic interior hoping to loosen the door but the car refuses to budge. It even seemed to flinch at every hit.

“Stop kicking me!” A child’s voice drips out from the car but oddly enough, not from the radio. “Noah! I can’t… I can't breathe!”

Was that a kid?

“Three!”

The green Challenger comes to life as well. The angry-sounding roars of a waking engine thundering so loudly that it made the concrete of the parking lot shake. Mirage and the police officers jump at the mere sound of it. The headlights flash on and the car inches towards the orange Viper ever so slightly.

“Kris, stay with me.” The voice returned, with an accent Mirage recognizes to be Puerto Rican, muffled by distance and no longer coming from the radio but from the other car. The urgency didn’t leave but it sounds gentle, comforting to the ear as the child’s voice starts to hyperventilate. “Please calm down. Cadimus Prime said to stay hidden.” Cadimus Prime?

“They have guns!” The child’s voice cries with a desperate voice that makes Mirage’s heart crack, his kicks faltering at his begs.

“Two!”

“Kritical, listen to me.” The hispanic voice, edging from urgent gentleness to growing fear, and softly grumbling to reassure the other car.

The orange Viper doesn't respond. The wheels begin to squeal and spin so fast that black rubber stained the stone floor like the car was having some kind of panic attack.

“Three!”

Mirage stops kicking the car, his head spins towards the police and hands pressed against the window in surrender. “Don’t shoot!”

BANG! BANG!

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 381. brb x oc

a/n: not me being an idiot and SAYING 40 INSTEAD OF 80 AAA (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: just some suggestive stuff uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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/367/368/369/370/371/372/373/374/375/376/377

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@lyn-js

-

He did something he hadn’t done in years.

He checked his yearbook. it was tossed somewhere inside their closet - to be honest he hadn’t even shown Bea that it was there. Rooster walked out of the shower and beelined towards the built in shelves, moving boxes out of the way, patting around until he finds it.

It was a thick yearbook, red leather cover. He looks down at it, exhales, then inhales, then repeats it all over again. Dr.Paulson,when Rooster told him about it, said that this should be a restart for him. To finally accept the healing he’s been working on. He got the promotion, now he had to deal with some demons.

He looks around, hearing Beatrice moving downstairs and then sits on the bed, placing the yearbook on his lap…why was he nervous to open it?

Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the yearbook heavy in his hands. He traced his fingers over the red leather cover… It had been years since he last looked at the pages within, the memories of his high school days buried deep within his mind.

With a deep breath, he opened the yearbook, the pages yellowed with age. As he flipped through the pages, faces from the past stared back at him, frozen in time. He found himself smiling at some of the familiar faces, memories flooding back to him with each turn of the page.

There were pictures of his classmates, their names scrawled in elegant handwriting beneath their photos. He lingered on each page, reminiscing about the friendships and rivalries that had defined his high school experience. 

And there were many rivalries.

But as he turned the pages, Rooster couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness wash over him. He paused on a page featuring a group photo of his baseball team, memories of late-night practices and incredible victories flooding back to him. 

He shakes his head, flipping back to the beginning to find his photo. He looked…crazy. But then again this was the 2000’s and everyone looked crazy then. His mustache was already thick and— was his hair a mullet???? He stares at it for a few seconds, he could NOT remember his hair like that, but it was a kind of mullet.

“What the f-” he narrows his eyes, trying to remember it…why did he…oh. That picture day he told his mom he wanted a haircut, since his hair was growing long but…but she wasn’t okay, so he decided to do it himself. It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t good.

He looked very angry then, even while smiling.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, looking back at his younger self with the strained smile and low brows. Almost glaring in a way…he was so fucking angry back then, so angry,so stressed so–”

“Hey.”

He immediately snaps the yearbook closed, widening his eyes towards Bea, who gave him a confused look ,”...hey…gorgeous.”

Beatrice crossed the room to join him on the bed, her brow furrowing with concern as she took in Rooster's expression. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "You seem...distressed."

Rooster sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I was just...looking at my old yearbook."

“...what?”

“Oh, it’s…nothing.” he tries to put it away, “Just, you know, it’s nothing.”

Bea blinked at him, smiling in surprise, “You never told me you had your yearbook!”

"Yeah, I guess I never did," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "It's just been sitting in the closet for years, collecting dust."

Beatrice's expression softened as she reached out to take Rooster's hand in hers. "Well, why don't you show it to me?" she suggested gently. "I'd love to see what you were like in high school."

Rooster hesitated, unsure of how to respond…"I don't know, Bea," he said hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's...not exactly a happy trip down memory lane."

Beatrice squeezed Rooster's hand ,rubbing his knuckles with her thumb, her eyes warm. "I understand," she said softly. "But I'm here for you, no matter what. And if looking at your yearbook brings up difficult memories, I'll be right here to support you. If you want to"

She had a way of making him feel seen and understood, even when he struggled to articulate his emotions. 

Always did.

With a deep breath, he nodded, his resolve strengthening.

"Okay," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I'll show it to you."

With that, Rooster opened the yearbook once again, flipping through the pages as Beatrice leaned in to look over his shoulder. She blinked, because he opened exactly on his picture, ‘...Roos.” she whispers, “...You never told me you had a mullet in school!’

‘Yeah,I…kinda forgot.”

“You make it look good.” she whispered, “...gosh I’d have such a crush on you if we studied together.”

Rooster chuckled softly at Beatrice's remark, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Well, lucky for me, I have you now," he replied, his voice tinged with affection. "And I wouldn't change that for anything."

Beatrice smiled up at Rooster, her eyes shining with love. "I feel the same way," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." she was so sincere, only to drop her gaze back down at the yearbook, “...so, tell me a little bit about this. You did tell me some about your life in Virginia but,well, anyone here you’d like to introduce me to?”

“Ah,pft,I think you’ll meet most of them at the reunion.” he mutters, flipping a page, ‘...I can’t believe I said yes.”

She looks at him for a few seconds, she could see how much this whole ordeal made him conflicted and she felt her heart hurt for him. Rooster had so much in his mind and she always means what she says when she says she’ll respect and support his choices… “We can still cancel the flight if you want.” she suggests ,”Is that what you want?”

“...no, it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

He rubs his eyes then runs his hand down his face, “I…I need to do this, close the chapter, you know?” he looks down at his yearbook, inhaling before he closes it, “...I haven’t seen these people in almost 20 years, gorgeous….”

"I understand," she said softly, her voice quiet. "Closing that chapter can be difficult, but I'll be right here with you every step of the way."

Rooster smiled gratefully at Beatrice, feeling a sense of warmth wash over him. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "I appreciate that.”

"Hey," she said softly, breaking the silence, "You don't have to do this alone. We're a team, remember?"

Rooster smiled at Beatrice's words, feeling a surge of gratitude wash over him. "I know," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "It’s just…weird."

They sat together for a while longer, finding solace in each other's presence.It was then that Bea finally noticed that her husband, her very handsome and physically attractive husband, was wearing only a towel. “...baby?” she asks, “you…are not dressed.”

He blinks, “...Oh. I…forgot about that.”

Beatrice laughed softly, reaching out to playfully swat his arm. "You are too silly sometimes" she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Go get dressed before you catch a cold."

“I mean…would you be opposed if I…you know, lost the towel?”

Oh he was relentless.

“Normally I’d be all for it baby but we have things to do today,” she whispers, albeit her eyes dropped to his jutted hipbones, “Okay?”

Rooster nodded, smirking before standing up from the bed and making his way to the closet to grab some clothes.Beatrice watched Rooster with a fond smile, feeling a rush of affection wash over her. 

And something else.

Once Rooster was dressed, they settled back onto the bed, enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. Beatrice snuggled up against Rooster's side, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as they basked in the warmth of their love.

As they lay together, lost in their own thoughts, Rooster reached out to take Beatrice's hand in his. He squeezed her hand then brought up to his lips "I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for always being there for me."

Beatrice smiled up at Rooster, her heart swelling with love. "I love you too," she replied softly, her voice filled with warmth. "Don’t mention it.”

He smiles, his cheeks dimpling as he rubs her ring finger gently, inhaling, ‘...is it weird to say I’m kinda scared for the reunion?”

"It's not weird at all," she replied softly, her voice gentle as she caresses his chest. "It's natural to feel nervous about facing the past, especially when it's been so long."

Rooster nodded, his gaze dropping to their intertwined fingers. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I guess I'm just worried about...what they'll think of me, you know? It's been so long since we've seen each other, and I've changed a lot since then." he frowns, “I don’t know why I am worried.”

Beatrice squeezed Rooster's hand reassuringly, her touch warm and comforting. "You're still the same amazing person you've always been," she said sincerely. "And anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve to be in your life."

Rooster smiled gratefully at Beatrice, feeling a sense of warmth spread through his chest. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "It’s just this whole thing with John, him being a weirdo, i don’t know…made me remember why I stopped talking to some of them.”

Rooster wrapped his arm around Beatrice, pulling her close before he continued, “I mean, he looked at you weird too.” he purses his lips, “I didn’t like it.”

Beatrice leaned into Rooster's embrace, feeling a sense of security wash over her. "I know," she replied softly, her voice tinged with concern. “I do love when you get all protective.” she smiles softly, kissing his chin, “You are always so…vicious with your eyes only,it’s very attractive.”

He chuckles, arching his brow at her, “Well, you are a beautiful woman.” she blushes,dropping her gaze a bit ,”And you know,I do love all of you.”

Beatrice's heart skipped a beat at Rooster's words, feeling a rush of warmth flood her chest. She looked up at him with adoration in her eyes, "You always know how to make me feel loved," she whispered, “I really like it.”

Rooster brushed a strand of hair away from Beatrice's face, his touch gentle as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead. "And I always will," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You mean everything to me, Beatrice."

Beatrice smiled up at Rooster, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over her. "”And you mean everything to me.” she whispers, touching his face, “...that’s why I don’t want you to be too worried, if you feel uncomfortable there,we leave. Plain and simple.”

He frowns, “I know…” he sighs, “I don’t know if we should take the kids to Virginia this time.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ll be there for what? One? Two days? There’s no need.” he frowns, “Besides, the long travel is going to take a toll on them, you know?”

‘Well, the twins are still pretty young.” she whispers, “And Nikki…mhm…yeah no you are right, it’s better they stay here. Maybe we can call Mav to babysit them, you know?” she says softly, “They’d have a blast.”

Rooster nodded in agreement, his brow furrowing with concern. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he replied, his voice filled with thoughtfulness. "I'll give Mav a call and see if he's available to babysit."

Beatrice smiled gratefully at Rooster, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "He’ll make time, you know that," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "I think the kids will have a lot of fun with him."

Rooster leaned in to press a tender kiss to Beatrice's lips, his touch warm. They always do," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "I just want to make sure our family is happy and safe."

Beatrice melted into Rooster's embrace, feeling a sense of warmth spread through her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as they savored the moment together.

“They are.” she whispers, kissing his chin, “You know they are.” she then sits up, “Come on, there’s a lot of stuff we have to pack–” he groans in annoyance “And we better get on with it, the sooner we do it, the better,right?”

He sighs, but relents, “...fine…” with a little grin, slapping her ass as she turns around, making her yelp, “After you.”

[arse-crack-thistle]

rwrb characters and their eras tour outfits

so i saw this tiktok asking what we think alex and henry are wearing to the eras tour, so here’s what i think the super six would do if they were all going together (in new york, i assume)…

(in my head they all choose an era and base an outfit on that…probably nora and pez’s idea)

alex - he fights for reputation and wins. i’m thinking black, sparkle, and chains. leather jacket with a black rhinestone snake on the back and a black mesh crop top underneath. black distressed jeans cuffed over combat boots. chains around his neck and hanging from his jacket and pants. thin black sunglasses that he later uses to hold back his curls when the house lights go down. oh and he definitely has the sharpest black eyeliner on his lids.

henry - he has a choice: either live in his reputation era with alex or be his complementary opposite. so he chooses lover. i’m thinking ‘80s high school student with lover energy. light-washed jeans with white chuck taylors. tucked in, a loose-fitted pastel button-up with cuffed sleeves. maybe it has splotches of color or faded butterflies on it…idk some kind of print. on top, a hand painted jean jacket with “london boy” in loopy pink typography on the back. a glitter lover heart around his eye (bc nora insists).

nora - speaking of, i’ll keep this simple for her. a fully identical ring leader costume to what taylor had on the red tour. she may be an irl chaos demon but i think she’s anointed herself the unofficial leader of “super six does eras tour 2k23” so this fit is appropriate for her. i mean she almost made them all wear matching t-shirts like they’re a depressed cishet family at disney world but june talked her down.

june - the queen of fashion herself. this is the trickiest for me bc june wants to do folklore and just wear shortalls and the silver star cardigan to be comfy, but she’ll be damned before she doesn’t match the energy of the others. june goes with evermore and all in on “cowboy like me” to piss alex off since he almost went with rodeo wear. cropped cream fringe jacket with an elegant ivy embroidery on the back and trim. underneath, a bustier and shorts of the same fabric with the same embroidery. of course she’s wearing a cowboy hat, cream with the ivy details. and caramel cowboy boots (rounded toe bc she’s a utility girl). everything but the boots are custom made in austin.

pez - “this night is sparkling! don’t you let it go!” yeah so as soon as he saw taylor in all of her enchanted ballgowns, he knew he had to be her nigerian billionaire glitter prince. and that’s exactly what he does. he commissions a nigerian designer to make a suit and headpiece using akwete fabric in the colors of the speak now era’s visuals. all accented in rhinestones of course. he’s also all about the accessories with a watch, bracelets, necklaces, shoes, and glasses from various luxury brands. he does the absolute most, and everyone loves him for it.

bea - angel is in her midnights era, and i am here for it! bc of bullshit princess rules she couldn’t wear a bodysuit like she wanted. but no matter, she’s still going to shimmer. having not seen anyone do it yet, she literally learns to sew and diy’s a mini dress version of taylor’s yellow dress at the end of the bejeweled music video. it was totally, incredibly frustrating but she nails it! complete with lace, bows, and a little more sparkle, the dress hits so hard. she pairs it with sparkly louboutin boots and replicas of the hair clips and choker she bought off etsy. june helps her do taylor’s hairstyle from the video, while she does the makeup, beauty mark included.

so yeah that’s what i got. what do you think?? bc this is such a fun prompt and i could see each character doing like fifty different things lol <3

[vecnuthy]

Snake Bites

Eddie and his partner/reader hit up the local piercing parlor for some additions. Eddie with snake bites. Eddie with snake bites!!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (use of "she" literally just once)

Language, slight suggestive language, use of "babe," bit of fluff

Notes: Indiana didn't legalize tattooing until the early 90s, set in late 80s, could be AU Eddie or Eddie survived, but no mention of UD

Eddie loved to splurge every now and then on a new tattoo after saving for a while. He would pick from a whole slew of rough sketches that he had done over the years, ready to go to give to artists as a foundation to build a design from.

Tattoos, while you adored them on people, weren't your body modification of choice. You preferred piercings, which gave you a broad range of customization that better-appealed to you. You had plans to add to your ears, especially, dreaming about the stacks you would curate, and adding a nose ring to the mix was another goal, but god, the healing time for piercings could be a bitch, and you were just really getting started.

Piercings seemed to get more fashionable in general in the late 80s, which definitely worked in your favor. The trend booming among celebrities had trickled down to the common folk, and now Hawkins had its own piercing studio that definitely didn't have an underground tattoo parlor in the back, absolutely not. Your birthday was coming up, and you decided to take the leap and start adding more as a gift to yourself. The poster on the wall listed the names and placings, and looking at it both helped and hindered you. You wanted it all, if you were being honest with yourself, but you only had a budget to stick to. You settled on an orbital conch on your left and a helix on the right with dreams of another of both and a tragus joining them in the future. And you got the nose ring.

You sat on the padded chair and held up the mirror, admiring the latest additions on your nose and your (very angry and bloodshot) ears.

"Hey babe, look," Eddie said excitedly, appearing from nowhere by your side. The underside of his forearm materialized in front of your eyes to reveal his fresh tattoo, a sensibly-sized and updated version of the Hellfire demon head he had drawn all of those years ago.

"Oh wow, they did a really good job!" you praised, admiring the line work and how intensely the red and yellow popped against the black on the fresh ink. "Demon on the forearm, I love it. Do you like how they di--" You froze when you looked up at him and saw those.

"Eddie!" you gasped out quietly, eyes big.

His face stretched into that signature cheeky grin, which made him wince. "That's gonna be fun to deal with," he remarked dryly with his fingers touching below his mouth. He was visibly pleased, though.

Your brain was buzzing as you took in the sight of the two pieces of rounded metal placed perfectly under both sides of his plump bottom lip.

"You're gonna catch a fly like that," he said, voice low and playful as he mocked how your mouth was hanging open.

"Ohh, oh no," you laughed out, taking in how he looked. "No, this is going to be a problem."

His nose scrunched as he said in faux disbelief, "What, you don't the snake bites?"

Your still-opened mouth stretched into a wide smile, your glinting eyes snapping to his. "Babe."

"Ohhh, she does like them."

You did. A lot.

"Do they hurt?"

"A little pinchy," he brushed off. "What about yours? I've gotta say, that nose ring suits you."

You smiled at him, saying, "Stingy, especially the helix. I kind of want to add a septum to the mix now, but I think I'll save up a little more for it..." You trailed off when your gaze landed back on his lips. "What's the heal time?" Your voice was casual as you stood up. Too casual. He knew that play.

"Four to six weeks, supposedly," smirking again. His fingers found yours when you moved in close.

"Mmm.....that's a shame," you murmured before brushing a feather light kiss on his lips.

"So Mr. Munson, make sure to stick wi -- oh 'm sorry," the body piercer said, averting his gaze when he came on the scene. Your knuckles brushed under your nose bashfully and you pivoted from Eddie, who was completely unfazed, if not slightly amused by the intrusion.

"Soft foods and come back in a month or so for shorter bars?"

"Yep, and, um....be sure to keep the area clean."

Eddie snorted. You mouthed oh my god and shifted awkwardly.

"If you -- either of you have any issues, just come back by. Greg will have care pamphlets and cleaning solution for you guys at the counter."

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it," Eddie said, shaking the guy's hand, shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.

"Thank you!" you added, which he acknowledged with a nod before disappearing into the back of the store.

Eddie snorted out a couple more chuckles, wrapping you in a hug and kissing the top of your head before he realized what he was doing. He winced and hissed out, "Shit!" at the contact. "Yeah, this is gonna be a problem."

"Just wait until you think about the extent of how much of a problem they're gonna be."

He was lost in thought as you approached the counter, and he shot you a panicked look as the two of you paid. There it is, you thought and tried not to laugh when you took the bag of supplies from Greg and headed out the door.

"I fucked up," he whined out as soon as the door closed. You let the laugh loose and slipped your hand into his back pocket as you walked down the sidewalk back to the van.

"Fucked me up more like it, but look at me." He obliged. God he looked good with them. "No. No, you really didn't. Keeping them clean and unbothered, though," you laughed, "is going to be trying, to say the least, because I really just want to tackle you right now."

Eddie laughed at that, repeating "unbothered" derisively, which earned him a pinch from you through the thin material of his back pocket. He jerked forward with "Hey, buy me dinner first" and glittering eyes. "Actually, how about a stop at the diner to kick off this soft food diet of mine with a milkshake?"

"Love it, but you have to sit next to me. I can't look at you right now."

He didn't comply, of course. You should've known -- you did know better, and now there he was sitting across from you in all his Eddie Munson with snake bites glory, his arm thrown over the back of the booth for added effect. He spent the stay basking in a great deal of enjoyment at how you struggled not to smile every time you glanced at him and how the color on your cheeks bloomed when you looked away shyly.

"Babe, what are you going to do when I get little hoops for them?" he chuckled out as he pulled the straw out of his thick milkshake and stuck the bottom of it in his mouth.

A wave of cold then hot rippled through you at the thought and at the sight of what he was doing to that stupid straw. "You'll be healed by then and it'll be fair game."

His face morphed into that devilish grin that drove you insane, and you couldn't help but groan and lean your face into your hand. That contact, however, gave you a sudden, very rude reminder of the fresh addition to your nose, making you gasp out and plead, "Shit. What have we done?"

"What have we done!" he repeated dramatically in his Dungeon Master voice with his arms raised and fingers curled in the air. You laughed into your milkshake and kicked his shoe playfully under the table. "Fair game, huh?" he asked.

You cocked an eyebrow with a pointed look.

"'M looking forward to that." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Shit, me too," you said under your breath, looking off. Judging by the sound of his laugh, he definitely heard you.

[sweetcuptea]

I posted 10 times in 2022

That's 8 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (80%)

2 posts reblogged (20%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@peaches-in-a-pancake

@neonpawp

I tagged 8 of my posts in 2022

Only 20% of my posts had no tags

#autumn - 3 posts

#zoophobia - 3 posts

#williamafton - 2 posts

#youtube - 2 posts

#fanfic - 2 posts

#im rusty - 2 posts

#wedonttalkaboutafton - 2 posts

#fnaf crying child - 1 post

#fnaf michael afton - 1 post

#elizabeth afton - 1 post

Longest Tag: 67 characters

#wedonttalkaboutafton fnaf security breach afton maketi happen plzzz

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Get back Part 2

Suprised to hear a repply, he realise it isn't from his hands, the squirrels took advantage and manage to bit one of his paws, rusty drop the animal immediatly '' Who said that ?! '' At first,the silence stays present, but then, after hearing from his big fluffy ears, footstep, an animal high pitched noise scream, rusty turn his head near a small cave, made of moss and stones, where the sound would lead. It goes more and more present each second, until a face shows up from the darkness pit of the cave. She looked like a demon. Rusty already heard all bunch of stories Implying vampire or demons, heck, he even saw one flying like a freaking rollercaster chasing that pinata boy inside the school ! After that incident, an announcement took place later that day, All he would remember (what he would sumarize) was blablabla, crazy vampire bitch got in, blablabla, be carefull on your ass, blablabla, if you see one, even meet one, don't interact with them, run as fast as possible? Kinda blurry for him to remember, but what's certain, is that this creature is still here, just 10 meters away from him. ''Thank you,'' she said to the animal '' for briging me my breakfast on a silver plate '' from one of her hands, rusty watched with disgust, the half squirrels head spilled with bloods and gust, mixed on the eeries hands of the vile creature, now that she was outside the cave, rusty could now see how threatening she looked like. At first, he thought she was completely covered in blood, well, she seem covered in blood, rusty wasn't really sure on that. But he could clearly recognize the shiny red Pupils, her grey skin as livid as the dead, red bloody hair, laying down with one of her sharply eyes hidden behind. she was the vampire Queen of the School. She raised her right arm, opened her mouth wide open, and swallowed the rest of the small animal, satified with herself ''God dammit '' she growled '' Wish Simon could hunt for me when I need him '' The golden dog, was still here, a bit scared, he decided to take the bag and just leave. That was the best plan of action, right? his bagpack was only a few meters away from him, after all. With courage,Rusty slowly aprochached, step by step, took his earned prize, and started moving away. '' where do you think you're going ? '' the distorded voice made his body freeze for a moment, even his emblematic jacket couldn"t protect him from this cold in his spine. with the calmest voice, he said : ''Aye am going to school, duh'' ''You're confused, I didn't made that meat hypnotized to brought you here for nothing, You're here to refuel me'' ''what'' '' Right after I smash your body around the trees '' ''what'' ''Cutting you in half and eat your organs, and ending your heartbeat in one, single, push'' '' WHAT ! '' '' But before I devour you alive, I prefer meatballs unmoving '', her eyes were staring at him, rusty tried to run, but felt he couldn't, he tried to scream, but he couldn't , he could only watch, in fear and frustration . He couldn't do anything else ''Good, now, TIME TO FEAST ! '' The vampire Queen ferociously jumped, screaming a demonic laughter as she was opening her jaws, ready to strike on his yellow neck Is this how i'm going to die?, Rusty thought as his fate was about to be sealed.

Suddenly,Before she could touch the Yelllow dog, Queen bitch get propulsed in the air, by a mysterious force, her body rapidly falls on the ground far away from her target, rusty watched with a confused look, and notice in the distance, someone, an orange individual, his hands were raised at the vampire, leaves floating as if they were claping each others,

Autumn

1 note - Posted October 27, 2022

#4

Get back Part 1

get back Synopsis : Rusty is walking going to school , and as he walks his way into the forest, he hears something eerie

Chapter One Leafs slowly started to falls from the trees, as if they waited their moments to detach themself so they can go touch the ground, The atmosphere in the morning was calm, Squirrels were running from each branches, Muschroom were sprouting, the birds are gazing smalls melody,It's a beautyfull day outside, the cold season was starting to take place.

Yet, Near the distance, an agitated yellow silhouette seemed not inclined to participate in this performance. ''Come here ya Little shit!" As he screamed , while Chasing on his Four feet, Eyes Focusing only on a grey backpack running away at a high speed deep into the forest. The yellow canine, was none other than Rusty, student of the school Zoo Phoenix, While he was walking near the Academy, He got his backpack stealed by a small squirrel? doesn't matter, he was now chasing him, the little thing was insanely fast for his little mass, and strong, but this didn't stoped rusty to get his belonging no matter what ! This cat and mice game played for several minutes now. At some point, he thought he could simply give up, after all, nothing in this backpack was THAT important, just some books about ''the Origin of the districts'' or some notes here and there.Maybe his sandwich was of values, but hey, He could always steal from another person. No, rusty hate people stealing from him, he isn't like his victims, that's his beliefs, With all his energy left, he accelerate and jumps into the air which seems to distabilize the creature a few second, the golden retriver took advantage and managed, as he fall on the ground, to catch the stealer, the only thing the small creature could do was lashing out the backpack four to five metters away. ''Gotcha, ya stupid brown faggots'' muttered Rusty, while he was regaining his breath back, as he was now holding the small animal from the neck with a victorious smug. ''Aw, What's wrong small fried ? Cat got your tongue ? that's what ya get for stealing from ME, rat'' he claimed, the squirrels responded with futile atempt to escape his grap, but to no avail. '' And cuz of ya I'll get late, so how about I find a cliff, and see if you could fly? Or prob bash your fucking head on a rock ? what do you think, pussy ?'' '' Well, I think it would be a waste ''

1 note - Posted October 27, 2022

#3

Everyone, let's make a FNAF SONG with We don't talk about afton !!

you love the lore of the FNAF franchise ?please keep listening!

Disney released a new film Encanto with lot's of amazing songs

the one that caught my eye is ''we don't talk about bruno'' which potray a member of the family that mysteriously disapeared and he is described by each members of the famlily that knew him while mirabel tries to undiscover the truth which is also linked to bruno.

and then it just tickled in my little stupid head, what if there was the same version but as in like ''we don't talk about afton''

NOW I know ppl already did it on youtube, but I never saw an animatic, yet.

Like I don't know, I feel like it could be gregory trying to discover the truth about the pizza plex, and then he'll ask who is the guy who started all this madness (or something) plus it would do a great recap of the WHOLE franchise to this point, and I've got just some inspiration for the dolores part lines (maybe played by the CC)

here a little demo :

CC :Hey!

golden bunny would alwaystrick in his sleeves always see him sort of walking in and mangling I associate him with the sound of tickling gears, tic-tic-tic *crack* Pulling up the string, he came back from sixteen tape

fate for falling into the madness of the rabbit hole even buried you can hear him six feet underground Hear his eerie sound ?

Of course, they'l be others characters from the SB and other FNAF franchise !

Feel free to change if you wish, I'm more of an artist than a compositor xd

if this project really does happen, use the #Wedonttalkaboutafton

Tumblr PLEASE MAKE THIS MESSAGE COME TO MANY PPL PLZZZ IOHEZJOIHDZFODHZOFU

And have an awsome night at your house? thx for listening :3

2 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

#2

Rusty & Autumn conversation (Zoophobia

3 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

WE DONT TALK ABOUT AFTON-ANIMATIC [encanto parody) FREDDY TEST

4 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[showtoonzfan]

Y’all remember when I said the two character designs of Hazbin that I absolutely hated the most was Sir Pen and Cherri? Well, I wanted to go into a tad more depth on why I heavily dislike Cherri’s design.

I think the first OBVIOUS problem are the colors. Pinks, reds, whites, blacks, and yellows of course, the 5 colors Viv is OBSESSED with. There’s too much pink in her design, and there’s too much RED in her design. In the shots of the pilot, she barley stood out due to the brightly pink colored backgrounds, so the way she looks isn’t helpful. Her color scheme kinda reminds me of Nifty’s old color scheme, she’s just so damn brightly colored, at least before her hair was BLONDE, but now it’s pink of course. Cherri’s color scheme is once again a showcases of the issues Viv has. She’s too obsessed with these colors, and I know I always sound like a broken annoying record, but it would be nice to look at a character for freaking ONCE who doesn’t have reds, blacks, whites, yellows, and pinks in it. These colors are starting to get really boring, you’re designing DEMONS for pete’s sake, start using more color variety for the love of GOD. It’s just so funny because Viv herself had said criticism is an important thing, yet she never seems to LISTEN to it and keeps using the same colors over and over again.

Speaking of Cherri being a “demon”, yeah she looks nothing like one. Once again, she’s just a human with one eye and crazy hair, and of course that sharp toothy grin almost EVERY vivziepop character has. I get that she’s supposed to be a cyclops apparently, but adding one eye to a human design doesn’t really do anything Viv, you have to make everything else look appealing. I’ve said this before, so you’ll know that another reason to why I hate her design is that she’s another pale white skinned character, like Charlie and Katie. Again.....USE MORE COLOR VARIETY, there are other colors that exist other than white and yellow. She looks like she’s freaking RELATED to Charlie with this character design, and that kinda tells you something.

I also despise her body shape, like good LORD Viv. I don’t care for exaggerating the female body, but once again, Cherri is just another STICK FIGURE with floating boobs, wide hips and skinny legs, just like all the other female characters. To give Charlie and Vaggie credit though, Cherri’s body shape looks WORSE. It’s ridiculously lanky and over exaggerated like how she used to draw her female Zoophobia characters and I just don’t like it. Like her waist is so damn skinny and then her ass pops out, and her legs are so crazy. But enough about that, let’s get to the final problem, the BIGGEST one I have.

So....for those who don’t know, Cherri is from the 1980’s. At first, I didn’t even KNOW that because I never recalled Viv specifically confirming that, so I went to Wikipedia and it turns out that fact is true, as she confirmed it in one of her livestreams. So......yeah, apparently Cherri is from the 80’s, yet she looks like a 16 year old early 2000’s chick. She’s got the ripped clothing, fingerless gloves, I don’t even know WHAT the hell her pants are, like if that’s a skirt or not.....it’s all just.......no. For those who need a reminder, this is what most 80’s female fashion ACTUALLY looked like:

Like.....that wasn’t that hard. You just Google “80’s female fashion” and you’ll get TONS of pics. It’s honestly mind boggling how Viv screwed this up. It just goes to show that she doesn’t do a lick of research when it comes to her characters and is stuck in the early 2000’s. I could understand it being difficult to do some research for characters like Al and Sir pen who are from the really early days, but the 80’S??? It’s......it’s SO easy I’m sorry. And this is petty yes, but the more I look at Cherri’s design, the more I realize just how BAD Viv is at designing characters, especially characters who are from a specific time period, but always end up looking like sparkledog emo OC’s. Viv is always obsessed with chokers, fingerless gloves, ripped clothing, striped stockings, spiky hair, the list goes on and on. I want to say liking these things in general aren’t BAD, it’s just an issue when it comes to designing her characters. Since we haven’t seen Cherri’s redesign yet for the actual show, yeah....I hope they change her a LOOOOT. Like there needs to be a lot of changes, honestly just change her completely because this ain’t it.

So, to wrap this post up, without being petty AT ALL and speaking genuinely now, all I want is for Viv to come out of her comfort zone and put in the effort to make these characters look vibrant and the best they can be. It’s clear that she’s in her personal comfort zone, she’s stuck in the early 2000’s with most of her clothing choices, obsessed with suits and bowties, and is still only using the same few color schemes she’s drawn to, not to mention the lack of diversity in her body shapes. To this very day, it STILL feels like she’s stuck like this. Like...I’m being serious when I say I don’t think Viv has necessarily IMPROVED ever since the pilot came out, but here’s to hoping she did. I want her to actually do some RESEARCH, and just learn how to give each character VARIETY. Use more colors, use more shapes, use more features, it’s HELL with demon characters, take ADVANTAGE of that. She has so much potential, so in the future when it comes to designing characters, I sincerely hope that she steps out of her boundaries and explores more, because I DO like her art, and I want to see this show succeed.

[lunar-wandering]

petals for two

finally, here it is. the Shadowpeach non-fatal Hanahaki AU the people have been waiting for.

Word Count: 13k

Read on Ao3

Bajie and Wujing found Wukong kneeling down by the river.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

"...Elder brother?" Wujing asked, watching how Wukong's back and tail stiffened. "Are you...okay?"

"...Just peachy..." Wukong said, but the way he said it was quiet, wheezy, and entirely unconvincing. Bajie quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? Because that's what you've said the last two times now." He said, crossing his arms with a healthy dose of suspicion on his face. "That last fight was pretty bad- y'know it would be pretty unwise of the 'Intelligent Stone Monkey' to be hiding an injury-"

"I said I'm fine!" Wukong snapped, turning around to glare at them with firey red eyes, his fur bristling with anger.

There was a pause, Bajie and Wujing both falling silent as Wukong continued to glare at them-

And then Wukong's hand flew to his mouth, as he turned back around to face the river, his body shaking with muffled coughs. Both Wujing and Bajie rushed to his side, concerned-

Only to freeze as they saw the purple petals slipping through Wukong's fingers, falling into the river and floating downstream. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Wukong's wheezing breaths.

And then they were both kneeling beside him, Wujing rubbing comforting circles on Wukong's back, while Bajie pulled the Monkey King's hand away from his mouth, letting the petals fall freely.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, let them do this, and the three of them quietly watched the petals float away, vanishing as they went around the riverbend.

If Wujing and Bajie noticed the tears running down Wukong's face, they didn't comment on it.

"...I'm sorry." Is what Wujing chose to say, in a soft murmur.

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wukong whispered, for a whisper was all his throat could manage at the time. "I'll be okay."

They all knew he was trying to reassure himself with his words more so than them.

When the three of them returned to their makeshift camp with an apology and a half-baked excuse, Tripitaka barely batted an eye.

Bai Longma, however, stared at a stray petal clinging to Wukong's outfit with a look of knowing.

Miles away, in a cave hidden by shadows, a figure leaned against the cave wall, one hand steadying himself while the other covered the fresh wound to his eye, petals falling out of his mouth as he cursed whoever decided that love could be unrequited.

-

Hanahaki. The disease of unrequited love.

Or, well, as it was known nowadays, the disease of pining.

Originally, when people were first discovering the disease, they thought it to be only born out of feelings that could never be reciprocated.

As it turns out, that simply wasn't the entire truth.

Overall, about 20% of Hanahaki cases reported end up being due to unrequited love.

The other 80% are due to people who simply, for one reason or another, refuse to confess.

As was recently discovered, about a century or so ago, the one true cure for Hanahaki is to look your beloved in the eyes, and say; "I love you."

As you can imagine, not many people have the courage to do that.

Luckily, the disease has never truly been fatal more than it was a slight hindrance. There even exists some medicines and teas that can reduce the effects of the flowers, although using them comes with its own ballpark of side effects.

Anyways, to make a long story short, MK wasn't surprised to end up meeting someone currently suffering from Hanahaki.

He just hadn't been expecting it to have been the Monkey King.

-

It hadn't really been obvious at first. Hanahaki will sometimes wither slightly when distanced from whoever the afflicted person has a crush on, but it never really takes much to send the flowers into full bloom again.

MK didn't actually hand out with Wukong a lot, and even when he did, it was only for training, something Mk restlessly focused on in the hopes of getting better at being, well, the Monkey King's successor.

Which was why, when during one of their rare breaks, Wukong froze in shock when MK actually asked him a question (one that, for once, wasn't about training).

"...Monkey King? Do you have any friends?" MK asked.

"Sure I do!" Wukong lied, "Why do you ask?"

"Ah- well-" MK stuttered, staring down at the ground in front of him as he seemed to ponder how to phrase his next sentence. "You just seemed... lonely, I guess."

"Well, I'm not, since I do, in fact, have friends, so. Yeah." Wukong said, crossing his arms as his tail slowly swung back and forth nervously.

"Are your friends from now or before?" MK asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "Actually, did you even have friends before?"

"...Before?"

"Before the Journey to the West." MK elaborated.

"Psh, of course I did!" Wukong said, "Y'know, I was even friends with Demon Bull King back then- you wouldn't believe some of the stories I have about him..."

MK had, in fact, already known about Wukong and Demon Bull King having been friends. Tang had been more than happy to bring that up, multiple times.

But what MK really wanted to know was-

"Was there anybody else?" He asked.

"Of course there was! For example, M-" Wukong started, but very quickly cut himself off, the light in his eyes dulling slightly. MK winced, sensing that he'd somehow stumbled upon a sensitive subject.

Before he could apologize though, Wukong suddenly tensed, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Uh, I'll be right back, I just need to check on the younger monkeys for a moment, okay?" He said. It was an excuse that was easily seen through, but MK couldn't bring himself to mention it.

-

Similar situations kept happening.

Sometimes it was understandable, like when Wukong would take a second or so to throw a smile back on his face (a smile MK was starting to recognize as fake) whenever MK brought up the subject of the Journey to the West.

Other times, however, it was a little confusing. Like, for example, when after an unspoken kitchen incident, MK had worn a purple jacket to training. (Mei had let him borrow it from her, since his yellow jacket was still in the wash, due to the Kitchen Incident That Shall Not Be Named).

As soon as Wukong had seen the purple jacket, he'd froze, before hastily turning away and running back inside his little house, claiming to have forgotten something.

MK had taken the jacket off and stuffed it into his bag by the time Wukong returned.

-

It was only after the Macaque fight that things became clear.

They'd been silent, watching the sunrise, and MK had started to doze off, leaning on his mentor's shoulder as he slowly started to fall asleep.

...Only to be jostled back into awareness as Wukong's shoulders shook with barely muffled coughs.

"Are you okay?" MK asked, lifting his head off of Wukong's shoulder and staring at the Monkey King with thinly veiled worry. Wukong leaned away from MK's gaze, a hand still covering his mouth.

He was too busy coughing to give a good response.

"If you broke a rib or something and didn't tell me I'm not going to be very impressed." MK deadpanned. Wukong shook his head 'no' in response, hand still over his mouth despite the fact his coughing fit had already died down. "Well, what is it then?"

MK waited as Wukong seemed to internally debate with himself.

And then the Monkey King slowly removed his hand from his mouth, revealing the petals that he had confined within his palm.

"Oh. Oh!" MK said, realization striking him as the dots connected in his mind. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"I know..." Wukong groaned, placing his head in his hands, not caring about how this caused some of the petals to stick to his face and fur. MK giggled a little over how silly his mentor looked, Wukong glaring at him and sticking one of the petals onto his successor's cheek in response. MK made a noise of disgust as he wiped the petal off of his face.

Far away from the two of them, Macaque stumbled back into his dojo, nursing a new injury, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and holding crushed flower petals in his fist.

-

Well. Wukong could officially say that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

Tangled up and dangling from the Spider Queen's spiderweb, Wukong tried to distract himself from the feeling of being trapped, unable to move.... by doing his best to observe his surroundings.

There... sure were a lot of other demons here. He couldn't figure out if it was good or bad that he didn't recognize most of them.

Wait.

Wukong looked around the room again with narrowed eyes.

Could Spider Queen have also taken-

No.

Wukong couldn't see him anywhere, not to mention that the other monkey had always been concerned with his own safety first and foremost. He'd probably scrambled to get out of town at the first sign of trouble. Wukong wasn't going to find Macaque in here.

He wasn't sure why he'd even looked.

...And there was that warm, tickly feeling in the back of his throat again.

Wukong squirmed, trying to ignore the sensation for as long as possible. He even started humming, his go to method for repressing the petals, but it barely worked, and a small dose of panic started to overtake him. He had no way of covering up the petals that would come, his arms and hands pinned at his sides.

He would not let Spider Queen or the rest of her crew find out about this, not to mention....her.

(If the Lady Bone Demon found out about his Hanahaki... well, she already has enough leverage as it is. Wukong isn't about to hand over any more.)

And then there was Demon Bull King. Wukong wasn't entirely sure how his old friend, (ex-friend, he reminded himself), would react, and honestly he wasn't too keen on finding out.

Still though.

The flowers always win in the end.

Wukong did his best to duck his head into his shoulder, and hoped it would be enough as his chest was wracked with coughs.

-

The Demon Bull King was many things, but he was not, in fact, stupid.

He had been quick to notice the growing panic on Wukong's face, (really, the monkey hadn't even tried to hide it, either due to being lost in thought or because he thought nobody was paying close enough attention to notice), and had decided to watch and see what the Monkey King would do next.

He hadn't expected Wukong to turn his head to the side, doing his upmost best to silence his coughing fit.

He'd expected the flower petals even less.

"You, of all people, haven't gathered up the strength to confess?" Demon Bull King asked, startling Wukong right out of his coughing fit. "I did not take you to be a coward."

"I take offense to that." Wukong wheezed, a few more petals falling from his mouth as he spoke. "Besides, I remember you taking forever to confess to Princess Iron Fan-"

"I'm not the one who held my words in long enough for them to take root and bloom." Demon Bull King said, "Who is the object your affections anyways?"

"None of your business." Wukong said, once again squirming within the confines of the webs. Demon Bull King raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the petals now littering the floor. The flowers typically would hint at who the afflicted had a crush on, but Demon Bull King was too far away to be able to tell what flowers the petals belonged to.

If he were to hazard a guess though...

"The Six Eared Macaque?" He asked, proceeding to find great amusement in how Wukong's fur stood on end, panic flashing on his face. "Ah, so I'm right then-"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, his eyes flashing red. "Seriously, shut up. You can't tell anyone else about this-"

"Tell someone- I see flowers aren't the only nonsense your mouth spits out." Demon Bull King said. The red glow faded slightly from Wukong's eyes, as his expression shifted to confusion, with a small dash of hope.

"You... aren't going to tell anyone?" Wukong asked.

"And loose the precious blackmail material you have graced me with? Of course not!" Demon Bull King laughed, and Wukong sighed, sensing that somehow this would come back to bite him later.

-

Wukong forced his suitcase shut, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt as MK stared at him, unimpressed. Okay, so maybe 'going on a vacation' wasn't the best excuse to use, but Wukong couldn't afford to waste any time coming up with a better one.

He was ready for MK to be worried about training.

He wasn't ready for Mk to be worried about him.

"...Will you be okay?" MK asked, "I mean, you seem to not want anyone to know about your Hanahaki, but if you're with friends then you'll be surrounded by other people at all times, so-"

"Oh, it'll be fine." Wukong said, waving MK's concerns away. "Besides, if the flowers act up, I'll just rip out my lungs."

"Please do not do that!" MK said, the horrified look on his face making Wukong chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad." He said, "I've done it before."

"That does not make it better!" MK said, looking like he was about to start ranting, and Wukong took that as his cue that it was time to go.

-

MK pushed the exit door open, stumbling a little as he rushed into the alley way.

"Ugh- why did you do-.....that......" He said, voice trailing off as he registered that the alley way was empty.

Well. Seemingly empty.

One quick check with his true sight later, (he wasn't going to be falling for any tricks again), and MK was holding a dumpster over his head, revealing the shadow monkey that had been crouched down, hiding behind it. Macaque glanced up, his scarf covering his mouth and his fur bristling in shock as MK set the dumpster off to the side.

"So much for you having been a great warrior, huh?" MK said, crossing his arms and staring down at Macaque with an unimpressed expression.

"Uh- ah, so you figured that out, did you? Maybe you aren't as dense as you look." Macaque said, voice slightly raspy, as he stood up, trying to pretend he wasn't just hiding behind a dumpster-

Only for his scarf to slip down a little, allowing some golden flower petals to fall out. Macaque made quick work of snatching them out of the air, crushing them in his grip as he hid them behind his back, tail swishing nervously, but it was too late.

MK had seen.

"...Oh. Oh!" MK said, feeling torn between screaming in frustration or laughing in amusement over what had just been revealed to him. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Macaque said, sighing and breathing out a few more golden petals as he did so, completely unaware of how much this revelation had shaken MK's already very delicate mental state. "Seriously. I don't even know where you got the idea that I'm in love with someone or something like that, because I'm definitely not."

"I never said anything about you being in love." MK said, starting to lean more towards being amused at this entire situation as Macaque stiffened, his tail stilling. "I just said you had terrible taste- maybe I was implying your whole 'performance' with the shadow play back in the theatre was simply lackluster."

"I take offense to that." Macaque hissed, his shadow growing slightly bigger as his tail once again started to thrash back and forth, this time in anger. MK ignored this obvious attempt at intimidation for another question that was on his mind, a much more pressing one, in his opinion.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier, why did you do that?" He asked, watching as Macaque took a minute to process the question, having not expected the sudden subject change.

"....Why did I do what- Oh! Why did I break the lantern, you mean?" Macaque said, suddenly avoiding eye contact, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab hold of the edge of his scarf as he chewed on the corner of his lip, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. "Well, I was going to do the whole 'watch the hero get tormented by their inner demons and insecurities' thing like all the other villains, but you seem to already be doing that to yourself so- yeah. Didn't want to bother using my own expansive list of abilities when I could just lay back and watch the show you were already putting on for me."

"But I thought you wanted to be center stage, not in the audience. Y'know, because you want to steal the spotlight from Monkey King." MK said, raising an eyebrow as Macaque's hand finally grabbed the edge of his scarf, and he started fiddling with it nervously. "Or well, either that or you want to share a stage with him."

Something must have been brought to the forefront of Macaque's mind when MK said that, as suddenly he was turning away, using his scarf to cover his mouth as he coughed. MK remained standing in front of him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the shadow monkey's response.

"I- I have no intention of shar- sharing a stage." Macaque eventually wheezed, pulling his scarf back down as he spoke so that he could be heard clearly. MK amusedly noted that he could see some golden petals peeking out from within the confines of the red cloth. "Not now, not before, and not ever."

"Ah, sure, keep telling yourself that." Mk said, staring pointedly at the flower petals.

Macaque flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow!" MK said, recoiling, a hand going to his forehead to try and numb the sting, his eyes closing reflexively as he leaned back. "Why would you do that for-"

MK paused, blinking bewilderedly, as he realized Macaque was no longer in front of him, seemingly having vanished entirely, having used MK's momentary distraction to fade away into the shadows, only a single left behind flower petal revealing that he had ever actually been there.

If MK had used his true sight again then and there, he would've found that Macaque was now resting on top of one of the nearby rooftops.

As it was though, his friends burst through into the alley way, prepped with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

(Later, Macaque would severely regret failing to remember to warn MK of the danger that was approaching him. But that would be later, and now he fully intended on sneaking back into the theatre to retrieve his shadow lantern...)

-

Life on the ship honestly wasn't all that bad. Sure, MK had lost all of his powers, and there was the ever looming threat of the Lady Bone Demon, but ignoring all of that important stuff?

Life on the ship was actually rather nice.

"You know what? I think I could actually get used to living like this." MK said, leaning against the railing of the ship, letting the wind rustle his hair. Wukong hummed in agreement, sitting on the railing beside his successor.

"...When all this is said and done, we should take a vacation." He said, "A real vacation. Together this time."

"Can I bring my friends with me?" MK wasn't so sure he could handle leaving the others behind after everything that had happened.

"Sure, go right ahead, if that's what you want." Wukong said, shrugging. MK visibly brightened, and an idea struck him.

"Oh- and you could bring your friends along too, you know, the ones I haven't met yet!" He said, and Wukong stiffened.

"....Uh.... about that..." He started, and MK's smile fell, replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"...You lied about the whole 'having other friends' thing, didn't you." He said, looking his mentor up and down before rolling out another accusation. "You're far lonelier that I thought you were."

"...Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, Kid." Wukong said, a sad, half-hearted smile on his face. MK tried to come up with a response, either a joke or maybe some comforting words (how do you even comfort an immortal, who has been through so much and had probably heard everything you could possibly say?)-

Only to be completely distracted as the ship was heavily rocked by something crashing into it. MK's grip tightened around the steel railing, steadying himself as he heard the others rush up to the deck, shouting in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, MK could see Wukong scramble to keep himself from falling over the side of the ship. (Which MK had to admit was... strange. Wukong had his whole cloud sail thing, he could fly, why would he be concerned about falling off?)

The rocking stopped, the ship steadying itself, and MK could smell smoke. Cautiously and slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of an attack, brought about by the Lady Bone Demon or one of her 'followers' (demons, that she had entranced to think that they were getting a good deal out of this, when in reality all she was doing was using them, with the full intent to throw them aside once they had served their purpose).

MK expected the broken bits and pieces of another, smaller ship, some parts still burning (and really, they should deal with those fire before they became a bigger problem. Sandy seemed to be running to get the fire extinguisher, so hopefully there wouldn't be any fire induced explosions today).

What he hadn't been expecting (but in hindsight, really should have been), was to see Red Son, standing in the center of the debris, nervously dusting the dirt off of his jacket, with Macaque laying face down on the deck behind him.

-

Red Son was having a very long day. Or, well, it had been about three days, really, but that wasn't the point here.

He brushed the remaining ship debris off of himself, making himself more 'presentable' while also purposefully prolonging the amount of time he could go without meeting the questioning gazes of MK and his friends.

Catching sight of the monkey still laying on the ground behind him, he turned and nudged Macaque with his foot.

"You really aren't making a good impression here." Red Son hissed, under his breath, knowing that the other's exceptional hearing meant that he could easily hear him.

"There truthfully isn't a good impression to be made." Macaque said, voice muffled by both the deck and his scarf, as he continued to lay face down, making no move to get up. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a little... singed, at the moment. Not everyone is as fire proof as you are, you- you hot headed fool."

The shadow monkey had, overall, been a great help in escaping from the Lady Bone Demon's dungeons, but Red Son wasn't past the point of kicking him in the side. Hard.

Macaque yelped in pain, curling up a little as though to shield himself, but continued to not even try to get up.

Red Son was unfortunately stopped from kicking the monkey again as he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with MK and Mei, their expressions completely neutral.

"Ah- Hello, Noodle Boy, Dragon Girl." Red Son said, politely nodding to each of them, trying to ignore his own nervousness (he did not feel like getting thrown off a ship today, thank you very much). MK and Mei said nothing, and Red Son began to wonder for a moment if crashing into their ship twice was somehow crossing a line.

But then both of them smiled, and Red Son braced himself just in time as Mei tackle-hugged him, MK laughing as he watched her do so.

"Wow, you really don't have much luck with vehicles and driving, on the ground or in the air, huh?" MK said, pushing a piece of debris from the miniature ship Red Son had flown in to the side with his foot. "Seriously, it's a wonder you ever managed to pass a driving test with skills like this."

"A driving what?" Red Son asked, immediately regretting it as both MK and Mei fixed him with a look of complete and utter horror.

"Oh heavens." Mei breathed, her grip on Red Son's shoulders growing almost uncomfortably tight. "You entered a race without knowing how to drive."

-

Too loud.

It was far, far too loud.

Still though, it was much better than being trapped down in the Lady Bone Demon's cold, dark, and desolate dungeons.

Or, at least, that is what Macaque thought to himself, even as he subtly pulled his scarf up over his ears, trying and failing miserably to block out the rumble of the engine, the hiss of the fires from the remains of their ship, the hushed whispers from Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy, and the trio's argument about Red Son's apparently non-existent drivers license.

(If he had known Red Son had never really, truly learned how to drive, Macaque wouldn't have let him pilot their escape ship.

...Albeit, Macaque himself wasn't all that much better, having had no idea as to what over half of the buttons in the ship were actually for.

Still though, he would have at least tried to land a perfect landing, instead of going all out on making sure they, quote, 'crashed in style', like what a certain hot tempered demon did.

Seriously Red Son. What the fuck.)

It took a few more minutes of laying there, trying to block everything out, before he realized that, over the roar of the engines and the trio's arguing, he couldn't hear where Wukong was.

...Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Macaque stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, its grip alternating between being soothing soft and threateningly tight.

"...Macaque?" Wukong's voice asked, and Macaque felt the unfortunately all too familiar twinge in both his chest and throat.

Ah. It was definitely a bad thing then.

-

Wukong pulled his hand back as Macaque abruptly stood up, stumbling away from him and towards the side of the ship. For a moment, Wukong genuinely wondered if Macaque planned to just jump off the ship, despite the fact that they were thousands of miles above ground.

But Macaque simply grabbed hold of the railing, leaning slightly over it, his shoulders shaking.

"What's the matter, are you sea sick already?" Mei asked, noticing Macaque's movement. "Or, wait, would it be air sick? Meh, it's probably the same thing..."

Macaque gave no response other than raising his hand to flip her off, which simply made her cackle like a mad man. Wukong would've walked right on over to him and smacked the shadow monkey for the rude gesture-

That is, if he hadn't been already preoccupied with covering up the petals his concern for the other had caused him to start coughing up.

Unseen by either of them, MK glanced back and forth between the two monkeys, seeing how Wukong tucked the petals into the pocket of his shirt, and spotting a few golden ones fluttering away from Macaque, carried by the wind. MK sighed, ignoring how Mei and Red Son, the two closest to him who had noticed his reaction, looked at him in confusion.

It was going to be a really long trip.

-

Macaque stirred a bowl full of cake mix, deeply lost in his thoughts.

You see, being stuck in a ship, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by people, especially MK and the others, was a very stressful situation to be in. And unlike back at his dojo, Macaque didn't exactly have any training dummies to take said stress out on.

So, he naturally defaulted to another, less violent technique.

Stress baking.

Macaque had waited patiently in the shadows until Pigsy had left the kitchen to join the others up on the deck, and then had promptly taken over the entire room.

...He wasn't sure why he decided to make a chocolate cake though. He had really just been going through the motions, using the first thing he saw or what was directly in front of him, not feeling like putting in the effort to really search for anything else.

Well, at least thus far only MK had stumbled upon him like this, and the Monkey King's successor had been easily chased away by a purple glare and a hissed threat.

'...Although...' Macaque thought, stirring slowing down slightly as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, approaching him. 'Maybe saying that I was poisoning everything in the kitchen wasn't the best choice of threat.'

He very nearly dropped the bowl when Wukong entered the room.

"So." Wukong said, leaping up onto the counter and sitting down, cross-legged. "Poison, huh?"

Well. He might as well go along with it. No use in changing his excuse now.

"Yep." Macaque said, taking the spoon out of the bowl as he gestured at the room. "I'm so one hundred percent done with all of you, so I have decided to poison all of you. Finally get rid of the noise, have a bit of peace, you know?"

As he said this, he made the mistake of putting the spoon within Wukong's reach.

The Monkey King, spurred by nothing but his own impulsivity, leaned forwards and casually licked the edge of the spoon.

Macaque pulled the utensil back at record breaking speeds (he avoided putting it back into the bowl, he knew far better than to do that) and proceeded to stare at Wukong with the most offended expression he could manage.

Wukong completely ignored it.

"Your 'poison' happens to taste an awful lot like chocolate." He said, taking a glance around the kitchen, noting all the ingredients on the kitchen island, before looking Macaque up and down. "...Stress baking?"

"Poison." Macaque corrected, glaring at the other as he got a new spoon to stir with. "I'm making poison."

"...Poison for yourself, maybe." Wukong said, looking thoughtful, "If I remember right, you can't eat chocolate, can you?"

Macaque didn't bother to grace him with a response, instead turning his back to the other monkey, continuing to mix more ingredients into the bowl. It was blessedly silent for a while, but-

With Wukong sitting right behind him, watching his every move, even stress baking wasn't able to help Macaque relax.

Not to mention the flowers in his chest that were once again begging to make themselves known.

Macaque forced the flurry of emotions and petals back down as much as he could. He flicked an ear, listening behind him.

Wukong was still there. Why was he still there-

Macaque slammed the bowl down on the kitchen island, barely avoiding chipping it, and taking brief pleasure in how he could hear the Wukong's breath catch, before the Monkey King descended into a small coughing fit, probably from surprise at the shadow monkey's sudden movements. Macaque turned back around to face Wukong, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, his tail swishing back and forth from agitation. Wukong's tail swished too, but Macaque could tell that his was a sign of nervousness.

"Ah, oh nothing." Wukong said, his hands behind his back as his legs swayed back and forth over the counter. "Just making sure you don't actually decide to poison anything."

"If I had poison, you and I both know that I would have used it already." Macaque said, "I don't even think there's anything I could even use as poison on this ship."

"...Point taken." Wukong said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his right hand.

(He kept his other hand tucked in behind his back. Macaque did pick up on Wukong seemingly acting suspicious, but was far too focused on trying to get the Monkey King out of the kitchen to actually think much of it.

Something that Wukong was extremely grateful for, as it gave him the time to actually hide the crushed flower petals in his palm within one of his pockets.)

"Um, so uh, how do you know if the kid and the others are all okay?" Macaque asked, deciding to try a new tactic of getting Wukong out of the kitchen, hoping that the Monkey King's stupid over-protectiveness would prompt him to leave the room, which would let Macaque finally bake in peace.

"Oh, I left a hair clone with them." Wukong said, and Macaque slumped, his hopes dashed. "...Say, on a different subject, how do you know if it tastes good?"

"Huh?" Macaque asked, befuddled for a moment before remembering the cake bowl on the table behind him. "Oh- the cake? Well, I don't know really, usually I just sell it or something... Not that I really do this often, mind you! This isn't- I don't- I'm- wait. You want to taste test it more, to get free samples, don't you?"

Wukong simply gave a non-commital shrug, but the smirk on his face gave his intentions away. Macaque sighed wearily, before pulling a smaller spoon out of a nearby drawer with his tail, scooping a bit of cake batter into it, and tossing the spoon at Wukong, mentally willing the utensil to hit the Monkey King smack dab on the forehead.

The utensil, unfortunately, did not, in fact, obey Macaque's wills, as Wukong caught it with ease, and started licking the cake batter off of it, his tail wagging happily.

Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, nearly drawing blood as he used the pain to push the flowers in his throat back down, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized just how... cute the other looked in the current moment.

...No, nope, absolutely not-

Macaque spun back around, throwing himself entirely into the task of mixing the last of the ingredients together, and doing his upmost best to ignore the monkey sitting behind him.

Wukong's incessant humming was absolutely not helping in any way shape or form.

Things continued on, Macaque making the cake and occasionally tossing a batter covered spoon over his shoulder so that Wukong could taste it.

(Macaque silently told himself that he was doing it in the hopes that Wukong would become satisfied and leave, already-

But, deep down, he knew it was just because he liked seeing the other monkey happy.)

Macaque dumped the cake batter into a pan, setting the now empty mixing bowl off to the side before shoving the pan into the oven, and setting a small timer.

When he looked back over to where he had placed the mixing bowl, fully intent on washing it and proceeding to use it to make some icing, the bowl was gone.

"What the-" He started, looking around bewildered, before realizing what must have happened.

Sure enough, Wukong had the bowl on his lap, and was using a spoon to scrape the remaining cake batter out of it, to eat.

"...It's not like you were gonna use it anymore... right?" Wukong asked, almost looking sheepish as he realized Macaque was staring at him, and he curled around the bowl protectively.

Macaque glared at him, using his magic to make his eyes flash purple and make the room grow slightly darker.

"Get out of my kitchen before I retract my truce card and cash in on punching you in the face." He threatened.

Although the threat didn't hold much weight (Macaque would probably end up breaking his hand punching Wukong before he could ever hope to actually injure the other) Wukong still scrambled to get out of the room, taking the bowl and spoon with him as he went.

As Wukong rushed pass Macaque in his haste to leave, their tails lightly brushed together.

And that was the last straw for Macaque, who, once he was sure the other was gone, hurried to turn on the sink to cover up the sound of his coughing.

'..........Stupid monkey....' Macaque thought, leaning over the sink and watching flour and flowers go down the drain.

-

MK found Wukong in the hallway, with petals falling out of both the Monkey King's pocket and his mouth. He seemed to be spacing out, lost within his own thoughts.

He was still carrying the mixing bowl.

"...So I take it you didn't confess to Macaque?" MK asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"What- no- why on Earth would I confess?" Wukong asked, snapping out of his reverie. MK merely shrugged in response, but mentally he cursed.

'I was so sure that baking together would settle this whole mess once and for all.' He thought, watching as Wukong balance his bowl in one hand and softly rubbed a spot on his tail with the other. 'I guess it's back to the drawing board...

....Maybe the others would have some ideas?'

-

"How to get someone with Hanahaki to confess?" Tang asked, setting his book to the side. "MK, you know that's not really a thing you can force, I mean, look at how long it took Pigsy and I-"

"I know, I know, the both of you have told me about your confession, and how long it took to get there, multiple times." MK said, rolling his eyes. "But like, this is worse than you guys, which honestly, before now I didn't think it was possible, but. This has been going on for centuries."

"...I feel like there's a majorly important piece of information I'm missing here." Tang said, leaning forwards with renewed interest. "Who, exactly, has Hanahaki?"

MK paused, debating for a moment on whether or not he should actually tell him.

But, well, it was kind of obvious, and he seriously needed help getting the two of them together, so-

"Monkey King and Macaque." MK said, before adding, for clarification; "Both of them have it. For each other."

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Tang said, sounding as though pieces of a centuries old puzzle had magically connected right before his eyes. "...I'm sorry though, I can't help you."

"...Oh. Okay, I'll just ask someone else then-"

"However. I am not opposed to starting a betting pool."

-

"Hanahaki? Why would I know anything about Hanahaki?" Red Son asked, sounding oddly nervous as MK stood in the door way to his room. "...Why are you even asking me about it anyways?"

"Because Monkey King and Macaque have been pining for centuries, even back during the Journey to the West if the stories from Mei's great grandfather are to be believed, and while I've only been witness to a small portion of it, and I guess it's kinda been amusing, I am so done with it, like-" MK waved his hands around in frustration. "Why won't they just confess already?!"

"...I'm....sure they have their reasons." Red Son said, "What... did Mei say, about this, exactly?"

"Oh, she just laughed when I told her about it, and then cemented her place in the betting pool." MK said.

"There's a betting- Noodle Boy, why didn't you start with the betting pool?!"

-

Red Son had, in fact, already known about Macaque's Hanahaki.

That kind of thing was a little hard to miss when you're locked up in a cell with someone for an extended period of time.

Finding out Wukong also had Hanahaki came as a little bit of a surprise (though, really, now that he knew about it, it was kind of obvious, but as they say, 20/20 hindsight-).

Outside of making bets though, Red Son was mostly content to just sit back and watch the two monkeys stumble around each other. Sure, he did think their inability to confess made them cowards, but.

At least MK was too wrapped up in his frustration over the monkeys drama to notice the fire demon coughing up smoke and petals behind him.

-

Wukong slowly sneaked into the room, as quietly as he possibly could. Staying low to the ground, he tip toed over to the shelf, cautiously reaching up-

Only for someone to grab a hold of his hand, stopping him from reaching his prize. A nearby lamp flicked on, and Wukong looked up to see Sandy intently staring down at him.

"...Hi." Wukong said, laughing nervously as he slipped his hand out of Sandy's grip. "Um. I totally wasn't sneaking around or anything, I was just... sleep walking?"

"...I see." Sandy said, reaching over and taking one of the tea tins off of the shelf. "In that case, this one right here will do wonders to improve your sleep-"

"Ah, oh, no thank you, it's fine, I can handle it." Wukong said, subtly scanning the shelf of teas, slumping slightly when he couldn't seem to find the one that he wanted. Upon seeing the monkey's dejected face, Sandy sighed.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, pulling a tin of tea out from behind his back. Wukong looked at it in shock.

"How'd you-" He started.

"It was just a lucky guess." Sandy said, setting the tin in Wukong's waiting hands. "Use it sparingly though, I'm running a little low on supplies right now. Oh, and be careful with the side effects, okay? Stop taking it if anything seriously bad starts to happen."

"...Thank you." Wukong said, pocketing the tea tin and turning to leave Sandy's room.

"Oh, one more thing." Sandy said, causing Wukong to pause mid-step. "The next time you try sneaking around in the dark, use a stronger glamour over your eyes. The glow seriously gives you away."

"...Duly noted."

-

It smelled like smoke.

That was the first thing Macaque noticed as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the storage room. Immediately, he tensed up, his fur standing on end. After all, where there was smoke, there was usually fire as well. And although Macaque would never, never admit it... he wasn't exactly the most... fond of fire.

(A capture hero, trapped and unaware.

A burning mountain, the air choked by smoke.

And an abandoned warrior, trying desperately to escape the mountain's flames.)

But... Macaque couldn't hear any of the noises that usually accompanied something burning. Instead all he could hear was someone's slightly irregular heart beat, and their wheezing breaths.

Macaque forced himself to walk forwards, curiosity starting to over power his caution.

He rounded the shelf of boxes just in time to see Red Son cough out more smoke, along with a few burnt petals.

Macaque paused, knowing the other had yet to actually see him, as he pondered what to do next. His hands twitched towards the edge of his scarf, but he kept himself frozen.

On the one hand, he could just turn around and leave before Red Son could even notice him. As was said before, Macaque was truly not very fond of fire, and despite having spent at least two days trapped with the fire demon, Macaque hadn't really gotten over his general...wariness of him.

On the other hand though, now that he'd seen the other demon, Macaque's curiosity was peaked.

...Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so-

"Who's it for?" Macaque asked, chuckling a little to himself as Red Son startled, finally noticing the other's presence.

"What?" He asked, looking at the shadow monkey in shock and confusion.

"Your Hanahaki." Macaque elaborated, "Who is it for, Mei or MK?"

Red Son remained silent for another moment, blinking in confusion, before the question, along with what was currently happening, seemed to register within his brain, and a furious blush over took his face, a few sparks flying off of him.

(At the sight of said sparks, Macaque took a hesitant step back, glancing around for anything that was possibly flammable.

Red Son was far too wrapped up within his own emotions to notice the monkey's anxiety.)

He sputtered for a moment, struggling and failing to come up with a proper response.

"...Both. It's, It's both of them." He eventually muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Macaque as he shyly rubbed his arm.

"What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you the first time, could you say that again?" Macaque said, not at all surprised by this new development and instantly deciding that now was the perfect opportunity to mess with the fire demon.

"You damn well did hear me and we both know it." Red Son said, shifting from flustered to angry in the blink of an eye.

...Macaque outright laughed at hm.

"Oh, oh, like you're one to laugh." Red Son said, "I know all about your thing for Monkey King. You're in the same boat as I am, both literally and figuratively."

"...Okay, first of all, we are in an airship, not a boat." Macaque said, leaning 'casually' against a wall of supply boxes. "Secondly- I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Why haven't you confessed yet?" Red Son said, moving on with his line of thinking and completely ignoring the shadow monkey's denial.

"Conf- I, I could ask you the exact same question!" Macaque said, caught off guard before pulling himself together and recovering. "Why haven't you confessed?"

"I, am simply waiting for the right time. I'm planning a big romantic gesture, I'll have you know." Red Son said, "You, on the other hand, are simply being a pining idiot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque denied yet again, a slight growl making it's way into his voice as his eyes flashed purple.

Red Son wasn't impressed.

"Your pitiful attempts at denial and intimidation have little to no effect on me." He said, "Seriously, just admit that you're in love with Monkey King already. Pretty much everyone else already knows about it."

"...I won't say I'm in love."

"Do not start the random musical numbers again, you already did it far too many times when we were trapped together in that cell, and if I have to bear one more minute of it I will not hesitate to toss you overboard."

-

The tea was bitter.

Very bitter.

Still though, it tasted leagues better than weed killer, which had been a not very well though through experience that Wukong never ever wanted to repeat.

And the tea worked better too, repressing, the flowers better than humming or the previously stated weed killer ever could.

Still though, there was a reason as to why Wukong had never opted to try this method before.

Said reason, of course, being the side effects.

He sighed, staring at how there were now purple flecks within his red eyes. Nothing that his usual glamours couldn't cover, but his magic was dwindling fast. He would have to start cutting a few corners soon if he didn't want to end up completely and utterly powerless, and the glamours concealing his height and eye colour would probably end up having to be the first ones to go.

Other than that though, it was concerning that the eye colour change was happening so soon, not to mention the speed at which it was progressing. A change in eye colour was the most common starting side effect of repressing Hanahaki, after that... things start to tend to become strange and rather unpredictable. The list of side effects caused by repressing Hanahaki was miles long, and was always having new things added to it- the reaction seemed to always depend on the person.

Basically, Wukong had literally no idea of what the side effect would be for him, nor how he could prepare for them.

And, of course, this meant he wouldn't be able to know how to hide them either.

-

When Wukong woke up the next morning and found that his eyes had already turned fully purple, a faint sense of unease settled itself over him like how a morning mist settles in a forest. He supposed he should've expected this to happen quick, he was repressing thousands of years of pining after all, but still, he hadn't been expecting it to progress this fast....

He felt fine though, nothing different than usual. (He did feel a bit weaker, but that had already been happening before the tea. No, that was something else.) For a moment he wondered if his immortality had made him completely immune to any possible side effects, but immediately shot that idea down, as if that had been the case, his eyes wouldn't have changed colour at all.

Wukong exited his room, throwing his usual glamours back on just in case, and made his way to the ship's kitchen as quietly as possible, he'd awoken a bit earlier than usual this morning, and didn't want to accidentally wake any of the others up.

Warming up the kettle and taking the tea tin out of the pocket (he sadly noted that it was almost empty already), he carefully followed the instructions on the side of the tin, not wanting to mess anything up and risk the tea not working.

A few minutes later, and Wukong sat at the kitchen table, spacing out a little as he slowly sipped his Hanahaki Repressing Tea.

He was starting to almost fall asleep in his chair when Pigsy entered the kitchen.

"Morning." Pigsy greeted, looking Wukong up and down with a mix of worry and suspicion. "You're not usually up this early, is something wrong?"

'No, I'm fine, perfectly fine.' Was what Wukong wanted to say.

Instead though, no sound left his mouth at all.

Oh.

Oh shit.

-

It wasn't every day that someone say Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, speechless.

Today, however, seemed to be one of the days where he was.

Pigsy watched as Wukong's mouth clicked shut, panic briefly flashing across his face before being replaced with an easily recognizable nervous smile as the monkey drew his tea cup closer to himself, as though to hide it. Pigsy rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Wukong, immediately noticing how the monkey avoided eye contact entirely.

"Experiencing the side effects, huh?" Pigsy asked, "Don't give me that surprised look. Even if Sandy hadn't told me about you taking the tea, you're being rather obvious right now."

Wukong visibly winced at that, sipping his tea again.

"How exactly do you plan to get through the day without being able to talk huh?" Pigsy asked, leaning forwards slightly. "Surely you must have some plan prepared."

Wukong started to shake his head no, to show that he didn't, in fact, have any plan here, but then he paused, looking thoughtful.

A sudden pang ran through Pigsy's mind, and he gripped the sides of his head, looking down at the table as he winced, trying to collect himself, feeling as though he'd been set off balance.

"-an you hear me?" Wukong's voice was faint and echoey, before growing stronger. "Can you hear me? Hello-"

"Yes I can fucking hear you." Pigsy said, looking back up, and proceeding to be almost shocked (but at the same time really not) to find that there were now two Wukong's sitting across from him. The new Wukong was obviously Wukong's golden astral projection form, as it perfectly matched how MK had described it.

Or well, it almost matched perfectly...

"Oh, good." Wukong said, via astral connection, "I wasn't sure this would work, but since it does I can just talk to the others like this-"

"Does this form of yours normally look like.... well, that?" Pigsy asked, interrupting.

"...What?" Wukong took a moment to analyze his astral form.

Unlike MK's description of it being 'Monkey King but in gold, like a shiny pokemon', Wukong currently had three tails, one pink, one red, and one purple. Said colours were also splashed all over his astral body, almost giving him a sunset-like appearance.

"...Huh. That's new." Wukong said, "I guess the side effects go deeper than I thought."

"Is this something we should be more concerned about?" Pigsy asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, no, it's fine. At least, it's far better compared to everything else. Maybe. Probably." Wukong said, the nervous smile on both his real self and his astral self growing slightly bigger.

"...Everything else? Probably?" Pigsy questioned, sitting up straighter with worry.

"...Ah, you weren't meant to hear that part." Wukong said, wincing. "Which I suppose that means it's time for me to go-"

"Hey, wait-" Pigsy started, but didn't manage to get any words out as Wukong abruptly closed the astral connection, before standing up and leaving the room faster than the other could ever hope to follow. Pigsy sighed as he caught the barest glimpse of Wukong's tail going out the door.

That damn monkey was definitely going to need a serious intervention one of these days.

-

"Monkey King this is an intervention." MK said, crossing his arms as he tried to do his best impersonation of one of Tang's infamous glares. He assumed he failed miserably, given Mei's muffled snickering, but Wukong at least shrunk down sheepishly, so he must've been doing something right.

MK sighed as a pang ran through his head, having expected it- before blinking in shock at the astral image that now stood before him.

"Why do I need an intervention? I'm perfectly fine." Wukong said, both his real self and his astral self smiling nervously- and the three other astral copies of him mimicked the motion. One was pink, one was purple, and one was red. They were each surrounded by a faint golden glow, and were each connected to the main golden astral version of Wukong by their tails.

"You- you are definitely not fine!" MK shouted, still having not recovered from the shock, and wasn't given any more time to try and process what he was seeing as the three bonus Wukong's started speaking.

"Shit." The red one hissed, frustration in his voice. "Fuck." (MK blinks, shocked to hear any version of his mentor swear, and immediately decides to smack Wukong on the arm the next time his mentor tries to reprimand him for swearing.)

"At least he's learning how to read people better, now he won't get tricked as easily." The pink one said, sounding almost....proud?

"I won't be able to trick him anymore either- He's catching on. He's starting to catch on now-" The purple one said, panicked. "I need to lie, lie lie lie-"

"Once again, I don't know what you're talking about." The golden, normal Wukong insisted, seemingly ignorant to the existence of the others.

MK had, of course, set up this intervention to talk about how Wukong tended to repress his emotions, (specifically those concerning a certain shadow monkey), but he definitely hadn't been prepared for... whatever all this is.

"Are you fucking seeing this?" He asked Mei.

"I'm not seeing shit." Mei said, wrapping her arm around MK's shoulder and lightly knocking their heads together, as though doing so would transfer the images that MK was seeing into her own brain.

"Language." All four astral Wukong's said, in perfect unison, and MK reached over and smacked the real Wukong on the arm for his hypocrisy.

The hastily put together intervention steadily went downhill from that point forwards, Mei complaining about not having been let in to the Astral Connection, and Wukong closing said connection the instant that MK had revealed the existence of the astral copies to him. The Monkey King had left the room rather swiftly after that, and MK sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time since he'd found out about his mentor's Hanahaki.

He would have to do a much better, and much more well put together intervention next time.

-

Wukong ended up running out of tea the next day.

On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it meant he would only have to wait a day or so for the side effects to finally wear off, and he could go back to actually speaking again.

But on the other hand, this meant that he'd be back to coughing up flowers again, much, much sooner than he would like.

Wukong sighed, leaning against the railing of the ship, watching the sunset. He could probably jump off the ship and find the materials needed to make the tea himself, but without his cloud sail, it would certainly cost him precious time.

Time that he currently absolutely could not waste.

So he resigned himself to what would have to happen, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the flowers that would return within the next twenty four hours.

.....For some reason, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched....

-

In his many years of having known Wukong, Macaque had never seen him be quiet.

But he sure was quiet now, leaning against the ship railing, peacefully watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

(The fading colours of the sun reflected perfectly off of Wukong's fur, covering the other in golds, red, purples, and pinks, and overall making him look really pre-

No, nope, Macaque absolutely could not think about that right now, if he started coughing up flowers here and now it was sure to be noticed, and he absolutely couldn't have that happen.)

Macaque really wanted to consider the silence a blessing, finally, a break from the seemingly endless amount of chitter-chatter-

But instead, he couldn't help but feel worried.

Sliding back down to hide behind the crate he'd been sitting on before Wukong had come out onto the deck twenty minutes ago, Macaque lightly chewed on the edge of his scarf, thinking.

Option one: he waltzes over there, throws on a Perfect Smile, and asks Wukong what's wrong. Maybe he could even throw in a jab or two, or say it sarcastically in order to hide his very real concern.

Option two: he sneaks past Wukong, reenters the ship, and hides out inside of his room until he feels confident enough that these stupid emotions have passed.

Macaque was just deciding on option two- when the shadows surrounding him shifted.

Glancing up, he found that Wukong was now holding the crate the shadow monkey had been hiding behind over his head, and was staring down at him, unimpressed.

"...Hi?" Macaque said, letting the edge of his scarf fall out of his mouth and glamouring away any sign that he'd been chewing on it in the first place. "Um. Fancy meeting you here?"

If possible, Wukong's unimpressed look deepened.

"I was- I was here first, I'll have you know." Macaque said, hurriedly standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off of his clothes. "I don't really appreciate you encroaching on my personal space."

Wukong's expression did not waver, but he did set the crate down to the side, so at least Macaque no longer had to worry about having it be thrown at him. Still though, Wukong continued to stare, so maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So uh, what's with the whole silent act, huh?" Macaque asked, trying his best to be nonchalant about it. He hoped the response would be something meaningless, like a silly little bet or something along those lines.

He didn't expect to receive no verbal response at all, with Wukong's expression shifting away from unimpressed to something Macaque immediately identified as nervous.

Which....probably meant that this really was something to be concerned about.

Which probably also meant that asking any more about it would eventually result in some kind of long, emotional talk, which absolutely was not Macaque's forte.

...Well, he'd been planning to go with option number two from the beginning, so-

"Welp, this was a nice talk." Macaque said, "But, unfortunately, I have some other stuff that need to be tended to so.... bye!"

And with that, Macaque awkwardly flashed a peace sign, before falling down into the shadows, reappearing within the comforts of his own room. Deciding that he'd definitely had enough for one day, he crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying his best to banish any thoughts of Wukong from his mind as he fell asleep.

-

He'd tried to sleep.

Really, he'd tried.

But after his third petal coughing fit of the night (courtesy of his brain refusing to forget how beautiful Wukong looked in the light of the sunset), Macaque gave up.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the couch, staring at the shadows on the wall, letting his mind play tricks on himself, making it seem like the darkness was moving.

He startled when he heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway.

Macaque wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been up for, but something told him that it was still far too early for even the early-risers to be up and about.

It was at the exact moment that someone sluggishly entered the room that Macaque remembered his glamours were down, and he tensed, knowing it was far too late and that he was far too tired to throw them on now.

He relaxed ever so slightly once he realized that the one who had entered the room had seen him glamourless multiple times before.

...Still though. What was Wukong doing up so late?

"...Got nightmares? I hope they're all about me." Macaque said, almost instantly cringing at the words coming out of his mouth, wanting to take them back and shove them into whatever sleep deprived corner of his mind they had come from.

Funnily enough though, Wukong didn't react at all, there wasn't even a small twitch of the ear or tilt of the head to even indicate that the other had even heard him.

There was a beat of silence, and Macaque chewed on the edge of his scarf, distracting himself from the awkwardness of it all by focusing on the sounds of the ship at night.

The beeping of the autopilot, the whir of the engines, the quiet sleeping sounds of the others, Wukong's steady, slow heart beat...

His.... slow heart beat...

"Oh" Macaque breathed, his voice partially muffled as he still had part of his scarf in his mouth. "You're sleep walking."

A contradictory mixture of concern and relief flooded through him at this realization. For a moment he just sat there, watching as Wukong continued to sluggishly make his way around the room.

And then Wukong bumped into the edge of the coffee table, and Macaque got up in record time, ready to catch the other if he fell-

Only to pull himself back as Wukong righted himself, still fast asleep. Macaque sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Why had he even been worried? There was literally nothing to worry about here, Wukong was literally invulnerable, he'd be fine. This was fine.

He rescinded that thought when Wukong suddenly turned, slowly but surely making his way towards Macaque. The shadow monkey watched the other's approach warily, stiffening when Wukog clumsily crawled onto the couch beside him.

Macaque stayed as still as possible, practically frozen, and partially hoping Wukong would get back up and sleep walk his way back to his own bed.

That, of course, didn't happen, and Macaque barely bit back a gasp, the edge of his scarf falling from his mouth to rest on his lap, as Wukong's tail found and curled around Macaque's own.

'Okay.' Macaque thought, feeling the flowers surge within his chest, as well as a faint tingling sensation covering most of his body (it had been a while, since he'd had any positive affection). 'Okay. I can handle this.'

And then Wukong leaned against him, his head resting on Macaque's shoulder.

'I can not handle this.'

-

When Wukong woke up in the early morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was not, in fact, in his bedroom.

'Ah. I slept walked again.' He thought, wincing, slowly pushing himself up. '...At least I didn't collapse in the middle of the hallway or inside of MK's room this time...'

The second thing he noticed was fabric sliding off of him, landing in a pool on the floor.

Leaning over and picking it up, he instantly identified it as Macaque's scarf.

He'd. Been sleeping while curled around Macaque's scarf.....

Almost immediately, he started coughing, purple petals falling from his mouth.

'Well. There goes the last effects of the tea.'

(When Macaque opened his door later on in the after noon, he would find his scarf sitting on the floor in front of him, perfectly folded.

He would find a singular purple petal within it upon unfolding it, but immediately dismiss it as being unimportant.)

-

"Why is it a forest, why did the engine need to malfunction and land us in a forest." Macaque complained, laying in the shadow of a tree, staring up into the branches as though the tree would give him an answer.

"Hey, it's better than a mountain." Wukong said, setting down a glass of lemonade beside the other monkey, before turning to hand another one off to Tang. (Pigsy had, for reasons unknown, made Wukong act as his waiter for the day. Nobody was quite sure why, and from the way Wukong glared whenever the subject was brought up, they figured it was best not to ask). "Can you hear how MK and the others are doing though, they've been gone for a while..."

"Why don't you just use your cloud to go check on them?" Macaque groaned, but still did what had been asked of him, tilting his head to the side, listening intently. After a moment, he was able to pin point the trio's voices. As for what they were saying....

Macaque smirked.

"They're fine." He said, "Although, they might be another few minutes before they come back."

When the trio came out of the forest wearing flower crowns, Macaque mentally cheered.

(After somebody with Hanahaki confesses, the flowers need somewhere to go. Usually they simply pop out of the ground around the person who has confessed.

It was a popular tradition to make and wear flower crowns using said flowers if your love was reciprocated.)

"Oh, did Red Son finally confess?" Tang asked, "We've been waiting on that for like. Ever."

"Oh heavens- Was I the only one who didn't know?" MK said, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I don't think Monkey King here knew either." Sandy said, lightly patting Wukong on the head. Wukong had been adorned with a look of utter shock since the trio had returned, but now he finally broke out of his surprise, and before the trio could even think to move, Wukong had grabbed hold of them, lifting them up a little in an excited hug.

"Oh my gosh- I'm so happy for you!" He said, only putting them down as Red Son started struggling. "We've- we've gotta throw a party- Pigsy can we throw a party-"

Macaque rolled his eyes, blocking out the current party planning, going back to staring at the sky through the tree branches.

"...Macaque."

Macaque looked over to see Red Son standing beside him.

"...Yes?" Macaque asked.

"...I'm braver than you are."

"What the fuck does that mean-"

-

Of course, Wukong had ended up deciding that they couldn't have the party on the ship. For some reason or another, he was utterly convinced that this party had to be big, which, of course, meant that there had to be a large space to hold it in.

...Had the situation been different, he would've brought everyone to Flower Fruit Mountain.

As it was, he found the next best thing.

"How the fuck did you know about my family hide out?" Red Son asked, watched as Wukong knocked three times on the door.

"You forget I was friends with your father, Red Boy." Wukong said, sending Red Son a smirk. "Oh, and watch your language."

The rest of the group stood slightly behind them, some of them prepared to run away if, somehow, this went awry.

Luckily enough, they didn't have to worry. Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan took the fact that Red Son was now dating his former enemies surprisingly well, and were fully willing to let them use the base to hold a party.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, ended up being the one to regret the decision to come here, the realization that maybe he had made a mistake hitting when Demon Bull King grabbed him by the back of his scarf, lifting him into the air. Wukong went slack immediately, knowing that struggling would be futile.

"The rest of you can keep sorting things out." Demon Bull King said, "I would like to have a few.... words with the simian."

And with that he turned, walking out of the room and bringing Wukong with him.

-

Demon Bull King entered a smaller room, reaching and closing the door behind him as he did so. Unceremoniously, he let go of Wukong's scarf and let the monkey drop down to the floor. Wukong let out an 'oof' as he hit the solid concrete.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at Demon Bull King. "Ya could have been a little more gentle there, Bull King."

"You can handle it." Demon Bull King said, "Now, onto the real matter of business. You haven't confessed yet, have you."

"What? Oh, is that what this is all about- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." Wukong said, laughing nervously. Demon Bull King stared down at him, unimpressed.

"So I'm right, you really still haven't confessed." Demon Bull King sighed, "Really, I expected better from you. Oh well, I suppose it is a good thing that my son is braver than you, not that that's very hard."

"Ouch." Wukong said, slightly jokingly. "You...really aren't pulling back your punches today huh."

"You trapped me under a mountain. I can be permitted to throw a few heavy hits." Demon Bull King said, "As it is though, if you do not confess sooner rather than later, you may miss your chance."

"Huh?"

"Do not make me out to be a fool, Sun Wukong. I can see the way your body grows weaker." Demon Bull King stared pointedly at a scrape Wukong had gotten on his hand when he'd been dropped onto the floor. Wukong, following the other's gaze, hid it behind his back. "You can't hide it from me. A month ago that fall would've been nothing to you. The Lady Bone Demon has affected you more than you're letting on."

"...So what if she has?" Wukong asked, "It's fine, it doesn't really mean anything, my powers will come back to their full strength sooner or later, you know."

"When I carried you, you weighed a little heavier than you used to."

"Hey now, don't go making comments about my weight!" Wukong said, letting the glamour on his eyes drop so that he could give Demon Bull King the red-eyed glare. "Seriously, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but just, drop it, okay?"

"...If that is what you wish." Demon Bull King sighed, opening the door and standing slightly to the side in order to let Wukong through first. "Promise me one thing though, for the sake of our old friendship."

"...Of course."

"Please confess before the time runs out."

"I'll... I'll try."

-

The party had been great.

In fact, the party had been spectacular.

Which was why, of course, that merely a week after the party, their luck seemingly ran out.

One of the Lady Bone Demon's 'followers' attacked the group during a supply run. Somehow, someway, Wukong and Macaque had managed to draw it away from the others, giving the rest of the group ample time to get the ship loaded and get everyone to a safe place.

Now all the two monkeys had to do was find a way for themselves to escape.

Macaque ducked under a wave of magic, glancing over at Wukong, hoping that the other would have some kind of plan.

He could immediately tell from the look on the other's face that he did not, in fact, have any sort of plan.

Macaque kept dodging as he watched Wukong impulsively take the offensive, sliding under a wave of magic, running up and jumping to kick the demon in the face- Only for the demon to catch him by the foot, spinning him around and tossing him. Wukong's back slammed against the mountain they'd ended up fighting beside, and he fell onto one knee for a moment.

And then he slowly stood back up, his fur messed up. He used his sleeve to wipe some blood away from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning red and oh-

Oh, that was kinda hot-

Macaque immediately cursed letting himself get distracted, as the flowers grew in his chest, and he stumbled, wheezing as a few golden petals fell out of his mouth.

A wave of magic hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding over to where Wukong now stood.

"Shit- are you okay?" Wukong asked, keeping one eye on the demon, who simply watched them in slight amusement, as he helped the shadow monkey back to his feet. Macaque glanced between the demon and Wukong, feeling the flowers in both his throat and his mouth.

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to win this fight if he stayed like this, in this state.

...Which only left him one option.

Taking only the barest of seconds to prepare himself, Macaque grabbed a hold of both side of Wukong's face, ignoring the monkey's confused squeak as he made sure their eyes met.

"I love you." Macaque said, a single petal falling out of his mouth.

"...I love you too?" Wukong said, confusion and shock filling his face.

"Wait, what?" Macaque asked, but was given no time to question it as the demon seemingly had enough of waiting, and threw a whip of magic at them, the two monkeys having to separate from each other and leap to different sides in order to avoid the attack. As the dust from the attack settled, Macaque locked eyes with Wukong again, the Monkey King's face coloured with a blush, looking shocked, and Macaque was sure the expression was reflected on his own face.

"You love me too?!" He asked, sliding to the side, to avoid another attack.

"Yes!" Wukong shouted, backflipping out of the way of a burst of flame.

"Then why did you say it as a question?!" Macaque asked, slowly making his way back over to the other monkey while avoiding the demon's attempts to hit him at the same time.

"I don't know, why did you confess in the middle of a fight!?" Wukong asked, mirroring the other monkey's movements.

"It seemed like the best option!" Macaque said, leaping over top of another magic whip, spinning around and finding himself back to back with Wukong. "I- I didn't really think it through."

"And people say that I'm the impulsive one." Wukong muttered, deflecting a beam of magic away from them with his wrist.

"I heard that." Macaque hissed, turning ever so slightly to glare at him.

"I know." Wukong said- before turning and knocking Macaque to the ground, just in time for a blade to go sailing over top of them. "When did he get a scythe?!"

"How should I know?!" Macaque asked- before his ear twitched, and he grabbed Wukong's shoulders, rolling the both of over to the right, swapping their positions as the ground where they had previously been suddenly broke apart, a spike rising out of it. Both of them stared at it in shock, before glancing back at each other.

"Well, there's one thing that I think we both know." Wukong said, as Macaque stood up, pulling Wukong to his feet along with him. They both turned to glare at the demon. "And it's that we're starting to get real sick of this guy."

"...You know, I hear that there's a solar eclipse coming up." Macaque said, and Wukong immediately smirked.

The demon sent another blast of magic, and, still holding hands, the two of them stepped to the side, Macaque even taking things one step further, twirling Wukong as they dodged the blast, before pulling away, giving the Monkey King a small bow before falling down into the shadows. Wukong, smirk still wide on his face, turned to face the demon with a determined look.

Running forwards, swiftly moving left and right to stay out of the way of the demon's attacks, Wukong got himself right up in the demon's face. Jumping, he flipped backwards, hitting the demon in the chin with his foot as he did so, before landing on his feet slightly further back than he'd been before.

The demon rubbed his chin, eyes blazing with anger, and Wukong laughed.

"C'mon, is this the best you can throw at me?" He taunted, practically dancing out of the way of the spikes that shot out of the ground at him. "Surely you can do better than this!"

The demon growled, not seeing the trap for what it was, summoning his scythe and charging forwards. Wukong stayed where he was, smirk still firm in place on his face.

When the blade was almost close enough for Wukong to taste the tang of the metal, the shadows in front of him shifted.

Macaque shot up from the shadows, with a spear made out of the darkness, easily blocking the demon's attack, his eyes glowing purple as he stepped forwards, shadows still trailing and swirling around his feet as he forced the demon to take a step back.

The demon grit his teeth, so focused in trying to keep Macaque advancing any further- that he failed to notice as Wukong slid beside him, his eyes glowing red as he took power away from his glamours and channeled it into making sure this punch was the last one.

The strike hit, and Macaque stepped back, his fur rustled by the wind as the demon was sent flying past him, slamming into the mountain, hard.

The two monkeys stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the demon's prone form.

A minute passed, and that was all it took for the two of them to confirm that the demon was not going to be getting back up.

A sigh of relief left the two of them, Wukong falling down to sit on the ground, while Macaque slumped, leaning against his spear as the two of them took a moment to finally relax.

Only to jump as a field of yellow chrysanthemums and purple, flowering wisterias appeared around them.

The two of them stared around themselves in shock for a moment, Macaque dispelling his spear as he sank down to the ground beside Wukong. A breeze flew by, knocking loose a few petals, mixing yellow and purple together.

"...You know, I can't decide if these flowers are hilariously late or perfectly on time." Macaque said, and Wukong laughed.

"Say, who do you think has more flowers for them?" He asked, and the both of them took a second to think about it, looking out over the field. Wukong abruptly stood up. "Why don't we make some clones to help and find out?"

Macaque laughed, standing up and summoning his own shadow clones as Wukong blew on a few of his hairs, and they went to work, counting flowers.

...In the end, they ended up giving up after the third recount also ended up in a tie.

-

When the two of them finally returned to the ship, adorn in matching flower crowns, MK took one look at them, a brief expression of shock flickering on his face, before he fell backwards onto the couch, a strangled laugh escaping him.

"Fucking finally!"

[itsstrawberrymochi]

Personality type: ENFJ-T

3 words fam/friends describe me as:

sensitive, warm, goofy

Sexuality: cis-female, 80% hetero

Birthday: 2/20

Fave color(s): yellow, black, anything neon

Description of self & hobbies:

I’m a bartender by night, fitness fanatic by day. I love love love high intensity cardio & weightlifting & I’ve been training in Muay Thai for a few months now. I’m of middle eastern descent, heavily tattooed with bleached icy blonde hair and dark roots… so I guess you could say I’m the polar opposite (inside and out) from what my ethnic heritage would demand of me HAHA

people (friends and random bar ppl) tell me all the time that I look like I’m ready to kick anyone’s ass… which IRL, I absolutely am. Disrespect me or another woman in my bar? You’re out. Try to swing at me? I won’t hesitate. I will fucking clock you byeeee

But in the ring when I’m sparring with my crew, gloves and pads on? I’m terrified to punch with any power behind it LOLOLOL so in summation: I look mean but I’m the sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet lmfao also unless I’m actively smiling or laughing (which I usually am) I have the meanest RBF in the world. So as long as everybody is respectful and polite, it’s all sunshine and daisies with me.

(Sorry this is so long!!!)

Fun fact: I’m as Pisces as a Pisces can be. All I ever want to do is wipe away everyone’s pain and make them laugh while I’m at it. I love making people happy.

First of all I love your energy and second if I ever need a bodyguard I know who to call 😂 here’s your matchup!

Congratulations you are a:

Demon!

Demon blood art: power of Athena

Description of Blood Demon Art: Athena Athena was the Greek goddess of war and wisdom so like her you posses strategic skills that help you win almost any battle with ease despite the odds not being in your favor. These skills include specializing in combat, being an experienced fighter, being able to master any weapon and you also posses a high amount of strength and unlike most demons you do not need blood to gain your strength

Are you apart of the (12) kizuki?: Yes ( Rank Upper moon)

Lover: Akaza ( Status dating)

Family: Rengoku family

Who you are most close with/bsf: Doma

Good or bad?: Bad

What people think of you: Looks like you can kill someone but you’re actually a cinnamon roll

Small description of how you look: Since you belong to the Rengoku family your hair is blond and has red at the tips, because of your demon blood Art you have to a lot of hand to hand combat so your hair is always in a high ponytail so it doesn’t get in the way. Your eyes are red and your skin turned into a very light orange

Your outfit:

A good character trait: Independent

Which hunter tried to kill you: Kyōjurō Rengoku

Headcanons

Your Blood Demon Art allows to to be the superior fighter amongst many strong demons but Akaza called bs on this and wanted to find out for himself. So from the moment you joined Muzan, Akaza was always challenging to a fight and every fight you wound win of course it was a bit difficult since he’s an upper moon too but you beat him nonetheless, every time you win. The demon slowly feel for you and your strong personality just made him ever move into you. His feelings for you got even stronger every time you beat him in a challenge …. yes he feel in love with you because you kicked his ass multiple times

Sorry to say but you have a crappy relationship with your family, after turning into a demon your family turned their backs on you, you’re brother Kyōjurō tried to kill you many times but always failed mainly because you were very strong and he still saw you as his beloved sibling, it was hard for him to take your life. Senjuro knows he’s supposed to forget about you but once in a while he’ll bake you your favorite food and leave it in the woods hoping you’ll find it and eat it, he’s not sure if demons still eat human food but he stilll does it

Modern-ish hc

Kyōjurō loves to visit you at your work, he’ll even bring his fellow pillars and yes he definitely embarrasses you because every small task you do he’s telling you that you’re doing great. Uzui asked if he could get a discount on drinks because you’re his best friend’s sister 😑

[kaalamarii]

MC’s 80s Party: I Think We’re Alone Now

Summary: Continuation of the prologue, the Mammon route.  Mammon and you go on a quest to find some alcohol for the party.

Word Count: 1708

Pairings: Mammon/MC (you)

Warnings: Cheesy af (I think so anyway), making out, non graphic description of a few second hand job, getting caught, talk of alcohol.

You make your way to Mammon, who is over by the punch bowl, pouring himself some of the pink liquid into a cup. You sneak up on him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. 

The demon jumps. “G’ahh!” He tumbles forward, then backwards, nearly knocking himself, you, and the table of refreshments over. You tighten your grip on him, a feeble attempt to save both of you from falling.

“What the fuck-” he says, sneering as he turns to see who is attached to him. His face lights up when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Heyyy…” you say awkwardly.

“MC, what’re thinking, sneaking up on me like that? Any other demon and you could’ve been killed.”

“Sorry, Mammon, couldn’t resist.” You move over to the front side of him, giving him an actual hug this time. There’s some sort of electricity that surges through your body as he envelopes you in his arms, hugging you back. As usual, he tries to play it cool, but his cheeks are pink. You wonder if he felt the electricity too.

The two of you hold on to each other for just a moment longer before awkwardly pulling away from each other.

“So, uh,” he speaks, desperately searching his head for something to say.

“I love your costume,” you say and he mentally thanks you for the cop out.

“You d-do?” he asks, blushing again. 

You nod. He is dressed as Billy Idol. His white hair is spiked. He has a black leather vest and no shirt, and black pants. Your eyes do a quick scan of his muscled torso. Now it was your turn to blush. Thankfully, Mammon doesn’t seem to notice you checking him out.

“Of course you do,” he says, feigning confidence. “I always look good.”

You laugh. With him, not at him, he knows that. He smiles. He loves making you laugh. He hands you his cup of punch and gets another one for himself. 

“I have a very expensive bottle of tequila I bought up in the human world a while back ago,” he explains, “I’m just waiting for Lucifer to leave so I can go get it. Then the party will really begin.”

“What if Lucifer doesn’t leave?”

“He will. He feeds Cerberus every night at 8:30. Once he leaves, you and I will go get it from the library.”

“It’s in the library?”

“Yeah, he took it from me and hid it there after I bought it. Satan said he saw it in there.” 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” you question. “Obviously if Lucifer hid it, he didn’t want you to have it, right?”

“I bought it with my own money! It’s mine.”

“Is it worth getting in trouble with Lucifer for?”

“It’s for your party,” Mammon stated. “That makes it worth it.”

You can’t stop a smile from forming on your lips. “Okay, Mammon. I’ll help you.”

“That’s my human.”

Just as Mammon said, at 8:30, Lucifer went to the kitchen and came out with a bowl of who knows what for his three headed dog. You and Mammon waited for him to walk down the hallway and snuck down after him until you got to the library.

You lounge on one of the couches as you watch Mammon snoop through the bookshelves and the accent tables. 

“Damn it,” he mutters to himself, “Where is it? Satan better not have been lying to me.”

After a few minutes of searching that felt much longer, you groan. “Mammon, can we please go back to the party? It’s obviously not here.”

“Just a couple more places I need to look,” he says. “Oooh, maybe it’s upstairs somewhere.”

You sigh as he runs up the steps, causing the wood stairs to rumble underneath him. You sit up and something on the table in front of you catches your eye. The original invitation for your friend’s party. You pick it up and notice other papers in its place, one with your name on it. You slide the papers over to you, scattering them so you could see them all at once. 

MC’s Party, one says at the top in messy, adorable handwriting you recognize as Mammon’s. The other papers have different handwritings: the neat cursive of Lucifer and Satan, Asmo’s bubbly and round with hearts dotting the I’s, Levi’s chicken scratch, a messy, greasy fingerprint on the corner of one paper that you know belongs to Beel. 

Your heart skips a beat. You look up at Mammon, who has a determined look on his face as he searches everything thoroughly. 

“You guys really went all out with this party, huh?” you ask.

“Whaddya mean?” Mammon asks, barely above a mumble.

“The decorations, the costumes. You all put a lot of effort into this for me.”

You can see his face just enough to see him blush. “Yeah, well, can’t have you all mopey, ya know? Brings the rest of us down. So I hope it, uh, helps you feel better or whatever.”

“I love it, Mammon. And I love all of you.”

He goes quiet, and it worries you for a moment. 

“Y-yeah?” he asks, his voice a bit squeaky.

“Of course.”

He sighs, shoes thumping down the stairs. “I can’t find it. Lucifer must have put it somewhere else. Or Satan is messing with me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, running your hand through his crunchy spiked hair. “It was sweet of you to try to make my party better. But really, it’s already great. Plus, I got some alone time with my favorite demon.”

“Hey, I thought I was your favorite.”

“I was talking about you, doofus.”

“Oh...wait, I’m your favorite?”

You laugh. “Of course you are. You’re the Great Mammon!”

He grins proudly and puts an arm around your shoulder. “And the first one you made a pact with.”

You nod. “You’re very special to me.”

He looks at you, yellow and blue eyes glowing beautifully in the low light from the fireplace. His eyes go down to your lips, and you mentally beg him to do what you know he’s thinking of doing. You lean closer into him and his breath gets caught in his throat. 

Mammon’s head is spinning, his stomach turning. Is he reading this correctly? Because it seems like you want to kiss him and he just doesn’t understand how that could be. Lucifer is the handsome one. Satan is smart. Asmo is fun and flirty. Levi’s funny and Beel is sweet. And what was he? An idiot. Scum...that’s what everyone always says about him. He was the big screw up of the family. Why would you want him when you could have anyone else here?

Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, pulling him into a hug.“You really are my favorite,” you whisper.

“Thanks. You’re alright, for a human, you know. Not the worst one I’ve ever met,” Mammon replies, still trying his best and failing to play cool while he’s freaking out on the inside.

“Yeah?” you whisper, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“Uh…”His act quickly fades as his face gets serious and he looks at your eyes, then your lips again. “Y-yeah.” 

You know he’s too stubborn to ever make the first move. So you stand on your toes and press your lips to his.

He lets out a small gasp. “...!”

You lick his lips, begging for entrance. He quickly obliges, opening his mouth and running his tongue against yours. The two of you stay attached, backing up until the back of his legs reach the chair behind him. He sits, pulling you down with him.

He runs his shaking hands up and down your sides, then down to your ass, which he lightly squeezes. You press your hips into his lap, earning a low growl from the demon, and you feel the bulge in his pants starting to grow.

Your hands make their way to his belt buckle, unbuckling it and unzipping his pants before sliding your hand down and gripping him gently. He lets out a quiet groan, and runs one of his hands through your hair, the other one inching up your thigh. 

“Ahem.”

Mammon pretty much throws you off of him, standing up quickly. You tumble forward, Mammon sticking his hand out to try to catch you. Instead, you topple over into another body, who’s arms catch you and help you stand up. You look up to come face to face with Diavolo himself. He looks back and forward at you and Mammon.

“Lord Diavolo,” Mammon says, “We were just-”

“I brought Mammon in here to help me find something. For the party.”

Diavolo grins knowingly. “And did you find it?”

“Uh..no.”

“Hmm. I actually came here myself to find something. Apparently there’s a pricey bottle of tequila hidden in here. Now where did Satan say it was?”

Mammon and you exchange glances as Diavolo pulls a book off of the shelves and opens it only to find it hollowed out and the bottle inside.He looks to the two of you. “I love tequila. You humans have great alcoholic beverages. Asmodeus said we should do body shots. I’m not sure what that is, but it sounds like fun, right?”

“Did he just say body shots?” You mumble to Mammon, who doesn’t hear you as he sets eyes on the booze.

“How did I miss that?!”

Diavolo puts the book back and tucks the bottle under his arm. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Mammon. I think you just got...distracted.”

Both you and Mammon turn a deep shade of red. 

Diavolo smiles. “I hope to see you both back at the party. I hear that Lucifer is quite fun when he’s had some drinks in him. Also, Mammon, you might want to zip up your pants.”

Mammon looks down and turns bright red as he fixes himself up. Diavolo struts out of the room, chuckling and saying something about using protection. 

You and Mammon stare at each other.

“I guess we should get back to the party,” you say.

Mammon frowns. “Can I come to your room later?”

You smile, giving him a kiss. “I hope you do.”

[demongirl99]

Name: Nadülar The Sun's Anguish

Type: Troll Demon/Infernal Lord

Species: Demon

Other Names: The Eclipse's Son, Sun's Shadow, Monster Maker, Lord of the First Ones, Vir-Zraddthrilz (Luciferian), etc.

Location: Nadülar resides in his dark, broken realm known as Ces-Nadgadajok (Trollish for Dead Dark Sun). Where a dead red sun casts no heat and deep dark shadows hide monsters unspeakable to man

Coloration: Blood red flesh, dark brown fur, black spikes, light brown spit, brown horns, yellow eyes, violet markings

Size: 99'0" feet (monstrous), 12′0" feet (troll), 3'0" feet (gummy)

Weight: 200 tons (monstrous), 2,000 pounds (troll), 80 pounds (gummy)

Language: Human (broken), Luciferian, Enochian, Goblinoid, Kakaeme, Hitlambe, Uremehir, Alien, Telepathy

Personality: He's violent, prideful, patient, and hungry. He despises humans with a violent passion, modern trolls for their weak and lazy nature, fairies for banishing his kin to the mortal world and magic-users for cursing him and his kin to never touch sunlight (and for imprisoning him in his own realm). He sees himself and his followers (the First One Trolls) as apex predators and in turn superior to all other beings who they consider either as food or as possible slaves/brainwashed followers and will not hesitate to devour or dominate anyone who dares to challenge him

Abilities: Nadülar is a powerful Infernal Lord and treated like a god by the First Ones (and by any goblinoid who have grown power hungry) and as such can use powers not found by his kin or followers:

Troll Form: Nadülar's standard form, a large troll with dark red skin, thick patches of fur, large spikes, large lower jaw tusks, a thick mighty spiked tail, a crowned with large horns on his head, and glowing tattoos covering his muscled body. This form he would take the most whenever he travels his personal realm or resting in his castle

Monstrous Form: The great destroying form of Nadülar, a towering monstrosity with three sets of double jointed arms, large spikes jutting out of his back, three sets of eyes, a large fanged mouth with a massive tongue, and a massively fat torso so large that mundane weapons cannot pierce it

Gummy Form: If somehow Nadülar is greatly injured in either his Troll Form or Monstrous Form, his body will break down into smaller versions of himself called the Gummy Form, they resemble miniature versions of his Monstrous Form which he uses to either escape or swarm his enemies and devour them

Spawn Creation: Nadülar was believed to be spawned by mankind's fear of real trolls but some believe he was the original leader of the First One Trolls that became a demon after he was slain and rose to the ranks of Infernal Lord

Info: Nadülar is an ancient Infernal Lord worshiped by the First One Trolls who fought against early man in the ancient past and who wishes to gain access to the mortal world once again. After the Mystery Kids encounter the First Ones, they have been dealing with a growing number of goblinoid encounters through out Gravity Falls as well as demon encounters; of which Cross wonders if theirs a connection between the two until learning Eggs had been experiencing strange nightmares about trolls destroying Gravity Falls and a monstrous troll devouring Winnie and his friends

P.S. Similar to the Nightsneak Troll, Nadülar was partially inspired by the old troll design for the main villain Gunmar The Black from Trollhunters novel

Nadülar (c) me

[kathyprior4200]

The Shadows of Hazbin

Alastor’s shadow isn’t the only being of darkness around.

 In fact, Hell is full of shadows and various monsters, just itching for flesh and chaos. We have seen Alastor controlling voodoo imps and shadowy deer, for example. The imps would burn buildings, feast on deer and loot stores. Every demon has a shadow that acts as its own entity, despite being connected to their owners. The shadows represent the dark subconscious desires of the host, desires both in Hell and the thoughts of the sinner when they were alive. In addition, the shadow reflects the full demon form of the sinner or Hell-Born and in fact, enables them to transform. When in their full demon forms, the demon hosts often give into their primal urges and evil natures, unless they can fully control…who they are inside.

 Alastor can control his shadow and minions…to a certain extent. If he is not careful, even the Radio Demon could be possessed as well.

 Like the Exterminators and angels in Heaven, there exists an evil conspiracy in Hell as well. The shadows want total freedom in Hell…and all the souls that come with it. They may even try to free Satan from the icy Ring of Treachery. Satan is the red goat, black suit-wearing evil counterpart of Lucifer. Like Lucifer, he is a powerful ruler of Hell, along with Beezlebub the fly lord, Leviathan the sea monster, Beal, etc. Satan was once a part of Lucifer before he was expelled from him and banished to the darkest district. Lucifer and Satan merged could stand up against God and Adina, the evil angel from Zoophobia. But with that much power comes the risk of Lucifer going deranged and initiating a Hell-wide massacre. Charlie, too, has her shadow and her dark side, and if left unchecked, she could engulf Hell and her friends in “cleansing” flames.

 There are a select group of shadows…the shadows of the characters! Charlie, Vaggie, Angel etc. all have shadows that look different and occasionally manifest, often when they are by themselves or sleeping.

 Eilrahc (eel-ra-uh-c): Charlie’s shadow.

Her shadow appears as a look-alike figure with two horns, sharp grinning teeth and long hair. The eyes are often orange-red. Her shadow is Charlie’s evil side/subconscious. Unlike Charlie who sees the good in everyone, her shadow wants Charlie to unlock her powerful potential and to instill fear in her subjects. Her shadow doesn’t believe in redemption, only in having people respect her completely. (Charlie wants to be loved and believed in, but it is hard). Charlie’s evil form is encouraged and brought forth by both Lucifer being stern and by Alastor’s trickery.

There are times when Charlie can get violent, such as when she fought Katie Killjoy on the table at the news station. Charlie going into her demon from was just for show, but the power was still there. Charlie’s shadow doesn’t believe in redemption, but will help Charlie reach her goal, even if it means forcing people to “redeem” themselves.

 Eiggav (e-gav): Vaggie’s shadow.

Eiggav appears as a look-alike to Vaggie, except with a gaunt face, two horns, glowing purple eyes and moth-like features. Her shadow has dark wings with glowing purple eyes, representing her full demon form.

Vagatha has hated men ever since she could remember. Her father, Valentino was abusive to her and her mother. Vaggie died of a brutal gang rape, the men taunting her for being a prostitute, a lesbian and for being Latina. Vaggie’s shadow is an expert in using weapons and represents Vaggie’s anger and desire to kill jerk men. Eiggav pours out anger and helps make Vaggie into a deadly fighter. But she also deters Vaggie from opening her mind and being more trustworthy.

    Tsud Legna (t-sud- leg-na): Angel Dust’s shadow.

This shadow briefly appeared during Angel Dust’s battle against the Egg Bois, standing behind Angel, very tall after sending an egg flying. His shadow is tall with six arms, venomous fangs and narrowed pink eyes.

Angel’s shadow represents Angel’s dirty thoughts and bad habits, also as Anthony when he lived in New York. Like Valentino, he encourages Angel to keep doing drugs, be a porn star and pursue a life of freedom. The shadow wants Angel to love who he loves, be violent and seek out money and stimulation. Yet the shadow is also his voice of doubt, saying that Valentino and Henroin will never treat him as an equal. That his father hates him for being gay and leaving the mafia. (His shadow likes to mess with him like the shadows of other demon hosts).

 Rotsala (rot-sala): Alastor’s shadow.

This shadow made an appearance during Alastor’s reprise dance number at the hotel. The shadow appears to walk in through the fireplace, grinning at Alastor before vanishing (like Dr. Facilier’s shadow). The shadow looks like Alastor, with deer-like tufts, sharp teeth, and antlers. At times, the shadow looks like a wendigo. He often has glowing teal eyes and a wide grin.

Like the wendigo, Rotsala is always hungry for the next kill. He was created by dark magic and serves as Alastor’s guide/spy. Rotsala appears to be a leader among the other shadows. Alastor can send his shadow to hunt or spy on people. His shadow represents Alastor’s murderous intentions, but also his deep seated fears such as fear of dogs and his abusive father. Alastor had many dark thoughts when he was surrounded by racism and violence in New Orleans. His shadow would love to see everyone possessed or tortured for entertainment. Like Alastor, Rotsala loves music.

 Rotsala is attracted to Charlie and her shadow, and reveals feelings and intentions that Alastor often hides.

 Ytffin (yeet-fin): Niffty’s shadow.

This small little shadow has a large yellow eye, curly hair and sharp teeth. She is as fast as Niffty, often enjoying “cleansing” parts of Hell and disposing of bodies. The shadow represents Niffty’s sexual obsession with men, along with a hidden fear of them. Niffty’s shadow urges Niffty to always be busy with cleaning, cooking, sewing, writing and pursuing men. As a Japanese woman named Nefuti in the 1950s in California, Niffty learned about housekeeping and cleanliness very early on (but also killed a man, which led to her death in a fireplace).

   Ksuh (k-suh): Husk’s shadow.

This grumpy shadow has Husk’s cat-like features and angry yellow glowing eyes.  The dark thoughts also apply to Husk as a human: Hilario in Las Vegas, Nevada. His shadow looks like Husk’s demon form: a fierce large cat that has the build of a mountain lion. Husk often takes this form when protecting Alastor from enemy attackers. Husk’s shadow represents Husk’s additions and his traumatic past. Husk developed a gambling and drinking addiction early on in life and also fought during several wars. The trauma got to him, and he died of over-drinking and depression at age 75. But his shadow encourages him to seek more money, drink more booze and shut people out. Husk enjoys magic shows and lived a while (nine lives) but his curiosity killed him in time (curiosity killed the cat). However, Husk has the potential to be softer and more open to others, even finding love, which he had lost years ago.

 Xov: Vox’s shadow.

Born in Russia as Vincent, he took control of the television industry in the U.S., hosting game shows and scamming people in pursuit of money. He was also racist to people like Alastor and treated women as trophies. He later died after a TV fell on his head. Vox quickly rose to power as a TV Overlord, gaining control of electricity and media brainwashing. He may even be more powerful than Alastor.

  Onitnelav: Valentino’s shadow.

Valentino was a wealthy Brooklyn pimp and human trafficker in his human life, before he was arrested and sentenced to death. He was also father to Vagatha. When he arrived in Hell, he took over the porn industry, taking many clients such as Angel Dust. Like Vox and Velvet, he enjoys his powerful status and manipulating others to his benefit.

 Tevlev: Velvet’s shadow.

Venessa was Velvet’s human name. In life, she was African American and became popular on social media. She enjoyed spreading gossip about others along with eating sweets and playing with dolls. But Vanessa was soon bullied and this led to her killing people with a knife while pretending to be innocent. She later stabbed herself to avoid being arrested. In Hell, she became the Harley Quinn-like demon of social media.

    Bmob Irrehc: Cherri Bomb’s shadow.

Cherri Bomb’s shadow has hot pink eyes and hair that appears as flames. Cherri was a rebel and feminist in Australia, who fought to the extremes in protests. She died at a young age in the 80s after an explosion she had caused. She is Angel Dust’s partner in crime. Her shadow represents her explosive tendencies and her fear of her abusive ex-boyfriend.

 Suoitnep Ris: Sir Pentious’ shadow.

Sir Pentious was an aristocrat and a black-haired evil inventor during the Industrial Revolution before he died from a mechanical failure in a blizzard. He commands his Egg Bois and wants to take over Hell. He also has a desire to be part of the “cool club” of Overlords Vox, Valentino and Velvet.

 Yojllik Eitak: Katie Killjoy’s shadow.

Katie basked in wealth and status. Katie Killjoy died in 1992 from being crushed by news equipment from above. Her shadow represents her love of gossip, sexual lust toward men and her love of bringing others down and high ratings.

   Hcnert Mot: Tom Trench’s shadow.

Tom Trench’s shadow also has a gas mask on, and is surrounded by noxious gas and green fumes. Tom is a blonde man who fought with the Nazis/Germany. He had killed many people but he didn’t have a choice. He eventually died from gas in the trenches, before becoming a news anchor in Hell. His shadow represents his violent tendencies and sexual remarks.

 Yllom: Molly’s shadow.

Molly’s shadow appears as a fierce spider with pink eyes and hearts.

 Ssinkcara: Arackniss’ shadow.

Appears similar to Angel’s shadow but even darker.

 Niorneh: Henroin’s shadow.

 Htilil: Lilith’s shadow.

Reficul: Lucifer’s shadow.

Elzzar and Elzzad: Razzle and Dazzle’s shadows.

Asleh: Helsa’s shadow.

Nahtaives: Seviathan’s shadow.

 Yzmim: Mimzy’s shadow.

Mimzy’s shadow has large lavender glowing eyes, thick hips and hair, and features of a mockingbird. Mimzy as Majorie in life, wanted fame, attention, wealth and love for many years, both on Earth and in Hell. She performs at her club and basks in the spotlight. In life, she was a star who killed her husband to get his insurance money. She was also in love with Alastor and gets jealous and emotional when she doesn’t get her way. Mimzy’s shadow represents her selfish and materialistic tendencies.

 Inimyrc: Crymini’s shadow.

Crymini’s shadow takes on the form of a hellhound with sharp teeth, skull markings and light red eyes. Her shadow represents her crimes in life and the afterlife: vandalizing, smoking, killing, drugs, porn, and being a delinquent. She was a typical My Chemical Romance emo teenager in the 90s until her death. Crymini has more porn than Angel Dust and might have more addictions than he does. Crymini’s good traits include her love of rock/metal music, her eventual growth as a Hazbin Hotel client, and her later acquaintance with fellow hellhound Loona.

  Retxab: Baxter’s shadow.

Baxter’s shadow takes on Baxter’s demon form, a large anglerfish monster with teal eyes and markings. Baxter’s shadow represents Baxter’s unethical experiments and his need to be alone all the time. Baxter had died on a boat and drowned in his life, while in pursuit to be the smartest most powerful inventor in Germany. Baxter often grows creatures in tanks, builds robots, makes deadly chemicals, weapons and drugs for Velvet, Sir Pentious and secret dealers.

 Eisor: Rosie’s shadow.

Rosie was born in Hell, is an Overlord and owns an emporium. She is like an evil Mary Poppins during the Day of the Dead. She likes to sing with Alastor and be a cruel CEO to her workers. She is an elegant woman of class and style, also a model.

Rosie seeks to gain more power and influence, wanting people to eventually become her sewing slaves. She believes that the Hell-Born are superior to sinners. Like Lucifer, she attempts to stop Charlie’s plan from working.

  Steggun Taf: Fat Nugget’s shadow.

 Oor: Roo’s shadow.

Roo’s shadow represents her demon form, taking the shape of a monstrous kangaroo with glowing orange eyes and teeth. Roo as Roxanne was born in Australia and worked as a trash picker. Kanga was her older sister and rival who went to heaven. Roo killed people and disposed of them in dumpsters and incinerators. She later died in an incinerator after trying to escape from police. In Hell, she is the Trash Queen, disposing bodies and consuming demons with her orange parasite from her mouth. She also lives in the junkyard, surrounded by trash every day. Roo likes metal music, herbs, feasting on demons and making trash into clothing.

 Alliv: Villa’s shadow.

Oztilb: Blitzo’s shadow. (the o is still silent)

Eixxom: Moxxie’s shadow

Eillim: Millie’s shadow.

Anool: Loona’s shadow.

Salots: Stolas’ shadow.

Aivatco: Octavia’s shadow.

Zzif Obor: Robo Fizz’s shadow.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Feeling kinda dumb asking this tbh. Not sure if you even watched TVD, but in case you did, you know how Bonnie uses Expression Magic which is considered extreamly dark and powerful form of magic (I mean, she literally destroyed hell!) do you mind writing Freddy x victim!reader oneshot where he mets a witch who also practices Expression and is extreamly powerfull? He tries to kill her at first obviously

Omg, this one started out so light hearted but oh my god.

Don't feel dumb!! Its a good ask!! I do watch TVD, and I hope you like this ^^ 

~~~

I wake up the same way I have for the past 3 weeks. With messy hair, slashes through my favourite pyjama shirt and a finger in my hand- well, it isn’t always a finger. Sometimes its an ear, a portion of his ugly sweater, his hat, once even his eyeball. You get the picture though. Unimpressed, I watch the finger turn to gunky, dirty dust. Then promptly get up and tiredly get out the vacuum cleaner to clean up the mess.

Once I’m done, I put the vacuum back in its cupboard down the hall, which at this point I could totally do just from muscle memory and no other senses due to how often this month I’ve ripped something of Freddy’s back out into the real world in my attempt to take him out and kill him off the clean way.

But, I take a deep breath and let it out, exhausted and resigned, as I pull on pants and search through my closet for a shirt to wear out today. I guess I’m going to have to do it the hard way.

Finally, I discard the ruined shirt and wrench on a clean, yellow t-shirt and leave my house.

___TIME SKIP___

“Hey, Bernard,” I beam towards the grassy haired barista. The café’s basically empty, apart from a group of teenagers watching Netflix and Disney plus on their laptops and phone sin the far corner, so I think we’re fine to talk. He looks up from the mug he was drying out, sees my expression and promptly scoffs. Immediately he starts down the bar, past the glass case with all the sweets inside including a delicious jelly slice with lavender for safety that I get when I come here for breakfast, rounds it, and comes all the way to stand very close to me. He holds up his pointer finger between us sternly, almost mad and I focus instead on his hair rather then his face. It really is grassy- not because he’s been playing footy which he likely was before he came to work and not just because its green. Its messy, and multiple shades of different, environmental green. Representing his element.

“Don’t you dare.”

I sigh, and roll my eyes as I sit down in a bar stool, successfully putting space between us as he doesn’t move. “Its kind of a dire situation.”

“A demon?” He doesn’t look at all like it would change his mind on the subject of my using magic if it were a demon. Which it is.

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that draws strength from attention, lets move on.” Again, I roll my eyes. Not at Bernard though, this time its Freddy. Yes, he totally is that kind of demon. Not even just because he needs people to believe he exists to work. He’s just an attention whore.

Bernard crosses his arms and rolls his shoulders back, more than expressing his parents’ shared fire element. And, also, his cranky streak. “You will not use magic.”

“I’ve tried doing it the easy way. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about your neighbours, and the rest of the known universe if you fuck up. Actually, scratch that. Unknown universe, too.”

“I’m not asking you for permission anyway. Just- come on, gimmie the book.” I hold out my hand, looking around for where he could possibly be hiding it. Cupboards? Behind the cupboards? Has he digitised it? He just continues to glower, and its so forceful that I lower my hand and pout. He’s always been the scary cousin in our family.

“Oh, you so are asking me for permission. You don’t know where the book is!” He sneers, and I deadpan deeply at his immaturity.

“Look, Ber, we’re grown adults. Grown! Ass! Adults! I can make my own decisions, now- where is the book?”

“No!”

“Gimmie!”

“I’m older than you, and I say no!”

“Berrrrrrrr- Oh hi Boyd.” I pause in glaring at my Bernard to look at his brother, Boyd walk by from the upstairs apartment, clipping the vizor attachment to his glasses as he’s going out. He looks boredly at me smiling at him and keeps going to the door with an old-fashioned bell fixed to the top.

“You’re here for the grimoire?” He asks, opening the door and turning over his shoulder, and I nod sweetly- he’s sure to be more helpful! “Yeah, Bernard lost it. Hid it so well even he cant find it anymore. Now, I have a date.” He leaves the, now very tense and cold café with a curt, “Later.”

Slowly… I turn to Bernard. He is now avoiding eyecontact. He misplaced… our families… century old… grimoire??! “Find. It.”

Having a change of heart, he heads behind the counter again with a lowered head. “Oof, I’m on it.”

It must take hours, before I give up looking alongside him and sit down to take a rest. The teenagers have gone by now, and Bernard turned the ‘Open’ sign on the front window around to say ‘Closed’. I don’t know how it happened, but at some point, I rest my head on the bench and the exhaustion from not getting full rest for weeks catches up to me, and I fall asleep.

“Back so soon?”

I jump. “Gah!” Turning around to where the voice came from and I see Freddy- clearly, not in a creative mood because otherwise he wouldn’t have appeared so quick. “Why are you here?!”

“This is my domain, sweetheart.” Freddy explains, something I already knew and he knows I already know and I groan.

“It’s the middle of the day! Can’t I have this one moment to sleep in peace??” A wide smile spreads across his face, and I slouch over. Course not. Oh god, I am so tired. Another yell escapes me though, exhaustion making me incredibly jumpy, when suddenly he appears beside me. Physical form and everything, I can feel the fuzz of his sweater on my arm. “Don’t touch me.” I flash him a glare, not daring him. Definitely not daring him- he’ll take it. Just telling him to back the fuck off because I’m tired not only from his unfaltering ability to keep me busy and working, even when I’m asleep, and also now because my dear older, moronic cousin has lost our grimoire which was entrusted to him, which I need to get rid of Freddy, in order to sleep and actually feel rested!

Oh, my goodddddd, I would do almost anything right now to dream about stupid normal stuff like flying, or running from an encroaching car, or falling. Even falling, which wakes you up. At least I can fall right back to sleep.

“Okay, now, see, if you tell me that, I’ll just wanna do the opposite! ~” The clawed glove nears my face and my right eye twitches, but I stand still there with my arms crossed and glare at it. The rusty, nearly black metal nearing my eyes, reflecting the sharp, gross grin on Freddy’s burnt face.

“So, its opposite day then?” I ask, humouring him because what else are you going to do? When he gets bored, he’s even more dangerous.

“Yep!” Visibly, the stripe sin his sweater switch places so its green and red, and not red and green. He thinks he’s funny.

And, clearly I’m exhausted otherwise I never would’ve fallen for that. “Then please touch me Fredrick.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, raucous laughter escapes him, and he holds his belly as he doubles over and laughs. I groan and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. I need to wake up. “Out of all the obnoxious murderers out there… “I got the worst of the lot.

“Yep, you got me. Now, let’s stop fucking around shall we? Let’s get to the good stuff!”

“Oh no.” I half groan, half whine in dread and fear. Suddenly, the fact that I fell asleep feels like stupidest move ever- at any time, he might kill me. Its just blind luck that he hasn’t felt like ending the game so far. But he could at any time, including this time.

Freddy disappears again, and I whip around to look for him. My heart starts to beat thunderously in my chest because nothing good has ever occurred when Freddy disappears. I’ve been shot, I’ve been crushed under a stone slab, I’ve been choked with 80’s twisted telephone phone cables- I’ve even been kissed. And every time, I get closer to dying. I lose oxygen, I lose blood, I lose morale. Every time I get hurt, Freddy takes me closer to death then before and I think I’m actually gone this time. He’s bored, I’m not enough anymore, the torture is over.

Which is both a relief and even more horrifying then anything else. Tears cluster in my eyes as time goes by and nothing happens. I just see the boiler room around me, everything tinted red and everything damp and shiny with grease and rust. I don’t want to die.

Suddenly, smoke starts to fill the room. Until I can’t see anything at all except the white in front of me and my hand if I would raise it, but I don’t. I just stay very still, afraid of what’s about to happen. “Fr-Freddy?” I call, weak and disappointing myself. I’m a fucking witch… but that doesn’t really mean much in this world. Not without the spell that I need from the grimoire that’s nowhere to be found. I’m a witch, and I’ve raised to think that means something, means I’m a force to reckoned with, but here I am being reckoned with and I’m useless.

The ground underneath me starts to vibrate, and the smoke slowly starts to clear.

I squint, but I can’t see much through the remaining smoke and the tears shielding my eyes except a bright light.

The vibrating gets worse, and I look down and notice that the smoke has cleared enough at the point to see what beneath my feet, and the realisation of what’s there makes fear swarm throughout every crevice of my being. Mind, body and soul.

Train tracks.

My head snaps up again to see the light, a train, barrelling closer and closer to me. It’s so loud now that I’ve realised, I’m about get his by a fucking steam train, that my ears pop and protest to the pain of it all. The train gets closer and there’s Freddy. The fucker. Wearing a conductor’s uniform and hanging out the side of the driver’s compartment. He grins and waives.

I try to use rational sense and move out of the way, but rope shoots out of the earth between the tracks and twists tightly over my shoes. I try to wrench my feet out of my shoes, panicking now as the train tracks are practically jumping, but the ripe starts to climb… higher and higher up and around my legs and my hip and my arms, until I can’t move at all. It’s so tight I can’t barely even breath- not that I’ll need to for much longer.

I brace myself, and squeeze my eyes shut against the now blinding, all-encompassing brightness of the trains light. And then the train hits-

“FOUND IT!”

I’m wrenched suddenly, and violently from my sleep on the counter and straighten up so vigorously that I nearly slip right off the bar stool. There’s drool on the bench from my sleep, my cheek feels stiff from resting on it for a while, and whip around to look at Bernard who’s standing beside me now with the leather bound, yellow paged book that he’s found. I snatch it from his fingers, dropping it on the bench and start frantically looking through it, eyes still filled with tears and now they start falling. I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling the heavy sob that racks my back and shoulders and mouth from the shock and horror of what just nearly happened. I can still see fuzzy blue dots in my vision from the light, and my nose tingles because the train just touched. It smelled like smoke and coal and that’s still in my nose. Theirs white scrapes on my wrists from the rough rope.

“Y/N,” Bernard touches my arm and I don’t push him off, but I don’t respond, either. I barely notice him, too preoccupied with looking for the right spell. I need this to be over, that can’t happen to me again! I’m not brave enough for it. Another terrible sob forces its way from my chest and I feel half like curling into my cousins chest and crying my heart out and half like killing that bastard Freddy. Wrenching his entire nasty existence from unwritten history and tearing it so it will never be salvaged again.

The second half wins, as I go back through the book backwards, and this time find the spell. “Ow-Okay.”

“Y/N, take a moment- “

“No,” I snap. I nearly got h i t, by a t r a i n. A monstrous thing the same colour as Freddy’s blades. Bernard can’t understand that, but I sure as fuck can. Stammering, but sure, I start to recite the incantation under my breath. Slowly it gets louder, as words start to become harder to say and I need concentrate more. Latin mixes together into one big word, and its har don the best of days but when there’s expression magic involved, it takes an army. More.

And I am that, right now.

Bernard looks around as wind, not coming from an open door or window, starts picking up in this room and rushes to shut the curtains and block the rest of the world from seeing in. Napkins go flying, then the chairs topple over, and then finally the wind is so strong that coffee maker rips from the wall and smashes into the glass sweets case.

I don’t see it, because I’m still following the words in the book, but I hear it. But only just, over the terrible wind screaming through my ears. Finally, the spell reaches its peak and the air in front of Bernard and me, who has gotten back to where I am, opens up. Like someone took a knife and tore literally through the fabric of space and time and magic, revealing the familiar boiler room.

The words start to speak on their own. Whispering in the wind and my lips don’t even have to move, so I let Bernard take the book. Its all so chaotic, I don’t know how I know what to do. But I reach forward and just, lightly touch the hole and its like the magic knows exactly what I want.

Dirty dust, like what Freddy turns into when you bring out of a piece of him from the dream world that I’ve been vacuuming for the past weeks appears, connects together into the shape of a man and then twists together slowly, disturbingly like vines until it isn’t dust and vines anymore. Its burnt flesh and knitted, red and green cotton.

And he looks mad. “You bitch.” Is all he manages to say, but it’s got so much hatred and fury in it that I nearly get scared. I feel it creeped into my bones and organ in my chest.

But then I remember. This is my world.

And I don’t want him in it. “Get out.” I spit, and just like the world seems to crash. Eliminating an existence -anything. Much less a person, - is a lot of work and a big deal. It shouldn’t be possible at all, and I believe that. But I believe it like some who believe murder shouldn’t be possible.

But it is and sometimes it happens, in dire situations.

It feels like I’m being torn on the inside, and scraped clean on the outside- punishment, for doing such a thing. Something to make the world balanced for this.

And Freddy warps like The Scream or a computer glitch. Half of him gong up and the other half going down. Its horrifying sight and I’m in so much pain, but I make my eyes stay open.

And then everything goes black.

___TIME SKIP: A Week___

The whole week has gone by like dream. Not a Freddy dream. Not even a happy dream. Just, like its unreal. I don’t feel much, except a slow, soft blankness like when you’re totally out of it in class after a really, really bad day.

Its not particularly a bad feeling, not compared to the horrors I endured before. Its just like I need to rest, after I used so much power, and feeling so much in general.

Oh, and I have. I’ve been sleeping all the time. Day and night. It’s been uninterrupted and nearly… empty, feeling. Bizarly, I’m well aware now when I’m asleep that I’m dreaming. I’m lucid. Like when Freddy would be there, but without him. Its not exactly restful, but still. It’s better than the nightmares.

Right now, I’m going to sleep. Feeling tiredness expand and unconsciousness take over.

Immediately, I nearly jolt right awake again from fear. Nearly. But his hand grips onto my arm before I can.

Freddy’s right in front of me, smiling sharp like a much madder, pissed off the Cheshire cat. “Heya again sweetheart.” His voice sounds too real. His touch feels to real. This cant be- “It took a fucking lot. Pulled a few strings, don’t know how. Don’t ask. But I’m back. Don’t worry though, I’m not about to kill you. That was a real neat trick you pulled… “I jump, and whimper when the a blade on his glove touches my cheek, and he leans much closer.

“So, we have a lot to talk about.”

You didn’t think you could rid of this Slasher, did you?

[reverseblackholeofwords]

80 and 93 Nate. (Maybe some demon gets hold of him? ;))

80. “How do you get your skin to be so soft?” and 93. “Don’t make me tape your mouth shut.”

(tw for stabbing and blood)

Nate is not scared. He really isn’t. Not even a little.

He’s tied to a chair--some form of irony, he thinks. Matt would laugh, when he got over the shock of Nate being kidnapped and tied to a chair. As the well-dressed demon, his captor, reaches for him, Nate flinches back from the scarred purple hand.

Okay, maybe he is scared. A bit.

Fingers brush his cheek, the long, curling nails grazing his jaw. “How do you get your skin to be so soft?” the demon asks in what might be a Scottish accent, but older, vastly older.

“Just standard skin care, cleansers, moisturizers, goat blood baths every full moon,” Nate says with a smirk, trying not to let his voice tremble. That would be embarrassing.

The demon’s grin widens to reveal more teeth than should be physically able to fit inside his mouth. “Let’s see if you’ll still have that wonderful sense of humor after I’ve extracted a piece of your soul and use it to enslave you. I think you have an affinity for puppets, right?”

“That sounds like fun.” Nate tilts his head to the side. “Will you take it out through my nose? That’s how they extracted a mummy’s brains, red-hot poker and all. Always thought that was pretty cool.”

“Don’t make me tape your mouth shut.” The demon seizes Nate’s jaw, digging those awful black fingernails into his skin. “Phantom never said you were so chatty.”

“Aw, Phantom talks about me with his demon friends?” Nate teases and is rewarded with a strike against his face and a dagger buried deep into his chest. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, head snapping back in pain. “I guess you’re not the friend-of-my-friend type, huh?”

The demon drags him forward by the back of his neck. His breath spills over Nate’s face in smokey waves, embers burning in his sulfur-yellow eyes. “Phantom is not my friend, not even close. In fact, I want to enslave his little human pet to show him what happens when he disrespects my Hoard. You’ll make a pretty little trophy to add to my collection.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Nate wheezes, blood trailing down from the wound as he coughs and winces at every little movement of the knife. “Do you mind... keeping that away from... my lungs? I kind of need those... singer, you know.”

Drawing the knife back out with a twist, the demon relishes Nate’s stifled scream. “Now that’s what I want to hear.”

“That’s... kinky.” Nate is about to get really scared when he notices the room filling up with smoke. Of course, then, he can’t help but smile, if only a little.

The demon raises an eyebrow, only now noticing the smoke himself, but by then, it’s too late. In the next moment, he’s screaming in fright as nightmares of all sorts leap out at him from the shadows--hallucinations of his worst enemies followed by a few very real threats, Mad armed with his chainsaw and Sharper with twin blades as long as his forearm.

Phantom slips around them and presses his hand over Nate’s wound. “Deep breath in,” he commands, and Nate obeys. The magic burns, so Phantom jerks his tie loose and over his head before wadding it up and putting it between Nate’s teeth. “Bite down. It’s only going to get worse.”

By the time Phantom has stopped the bleeding, Nate has passed out from the pain. And Sharper is sitting on top of the demon while Mad threatens to saw his leg off. Mare knocks him out cold with another heavy dose of fear smoke, content that he’ll be caught in his nightmares for a few hours before he wakes up with a nasty headache and one less leg.

Then he starts untying Nate. The ropes have rubbed his skin raw, and Mare just hopes it won’t scar, in more ways than one. “Is he okay?”

Phantom smirks and catches Nate as he falls forward. “He’ll be alright. I think we got here before any permanent damage could be done.”

“We’ve got to keep a closer eye on him from now on,” Mare mutters, shuddering at the thought of what might’ve happened if they had gotten there even five minutes later. He puts one of Nate’s arms across his shoulders. “He’s just a human.”

“Oh, he’s much more than ‘just a human,’“ Phantom says with a laugh as he hoists his old friend between himself and Mare. “Why else do you think I picked him?”

Mare glances over at Nate’s face and sighs. “Let’s just get him home, and then you can explain what you mean by that. And we can have another talk about how being cryptic all the time is not cool, it’s just annoying.”