#I am just. Wrecked and wretched!

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[morsking]

[redbowedblogger]

The thought of mer!prowl having to teach Jaz to hunt in @keferon 's post apocalypse ponyo au. Just like he probably had to teach his little brothers. Jazz not knowing what or how to eat. So I did a thing

"Prowl.”

“What-?” Prowl was frustrated. This whole damn mess was going on for far longer than he had ever feared. He needed to get back to his pod. His family. Those fragging humans and their twisted sense of “mercy” had almost trapped him in a life of servitude and solitude. All over a little damage to his melon, nothing a proper mer healer couldn't fix, but clearly beyond their limited medical knowledge. And then everything changed when the wave had hit.

Calling it a wave felt a bit misleading. A miles high flood of oceanic rage that all but wiped the human city off the coastline and allowed for his escape. Their escape. This poor strange mer he had met in that box of stone and steel and glass. The one who had weak fins and an iron grip and no memory of the ocean. Jazz, who had been so excited to meet him.

He had been useful enough at the start. Practically hauling prowl along the dry rough pathways before they could reach the floodways proper and swim away. And it was handy to have one person with functional echolocation as they swam through the worst of the wrecked buildings, But after that he had unfortunately become quite the nuisance. Flighty and distracted by every flashy bit of detritus in the water, startled by fish a quarter of his size, and the talking. Relentless jabbering about everything and anything, occasionally bursting into one of those strange human songs, their tones and rhythm poorly suited for an aquatic environment. Prowl didn't really know why he had continued to let this stranger swim with him. Perhaps it was a debt of gratitude for helping him survive and escape. Perhaps it was his sense of duty, this jazz was ill equipped to survive on his own and had almost perished the first time they had hit a rip.

Perhaps it was because he was the only company in these waters that wasn't a bloodthirsty mutation, a shambling wretched gasping thing that was not mer not human not fish but some horrific combination of the three with their gangly limbs, razor claws and rows and rows of serrated ripping teeth.

And his singing was really good, when he chose the right song.

“Prowler I'm hungry. Is there anything to eat?” jazz asked, his posture meek as he floated neutral in the water.

“Of course there is. Just grab something and let's go. We are losing daylight and i'd like to find somewhere safe to camp before it gets dark.”

Dangerous things swam in the dark waters.

“What do you mean?” Jazz asked, thoroughly confused.

“Jazz we are surrounded by fish right now. Pick one and let's go.” prowl gestured to the schools of shimmering fish surrounding them. They were swimming through what had once been a park, the vegetation on the trees now replaced with algae and budding coral growths, the streetlights crusted with barnacles, and what was left of grassy fields struggling to survive as crabs and rays scuttled among the waving green vegetation grazing.

“Yeah that. How do I know which ones are good to eat? And how exactly am I supposed to just ‘grab one' they are all wicked fast.” Jazz pouted.

Prowl closed his eyes and counted to ten, digging deep for the well of patience typically reserved for only the youngest pod members before facing the mer behind him.

“You're a mer. We are the top predators of our natural environment. Everything is good to eat. Well, most of it. Watch me.” Prowl instructed as he swam off a few clicks. His echolocation was still trashed and would be until he could get back to his pods healer, so he would have to hunt by sight. Spotting a fish he liked he swiftly maneuvered around the school, herding them towards an algae covered statue to separate them. With a powerful flick of his tail he changed direction to head the stragglers off and turn them towards the branches of a tree. With another casual turn he isolated the one he wanted and with an effortless burst of speed; caught it in his claws and ripped its head off with his sharp teeth.

Jazz was in awe. Prowl moved so fast! The speed and grace in his turns as he effortlessly put the fish exactly where he needed it.

“Woah! That was slick, man I mean slick. How’d you do that?” Jazz asked with an excited shout and a backwards roll. Prowl finished the fish with a roll of his eyes.

“Everyone can do that. You can too, I know you have the agility for it. It's no harder than those silly dances the two legs made you do.”

“I don't know…”

Prowl sighed. This mer, This clever, happy, sociable mer, had been deprived of nearly every aspect of life prowl took for granted.

No open waves to surf.

No territory to call his own.

No pod to care for him.

He couldn't even hunt his own food.

They had enough time before they needed to bed down for the night.

“Here let's practice.” Prowl offered as he flicked another fish from the herd. Except this time, instead of decapitation he clipped one pectoral and half of its tail fin. As he let it go the fish wobbled back into the school, its progress hampered. When the others zigged it tended to zag.

“Catch the fish. Use any trick you can think of. Flips, rolls, dives. Whatever. Just remember that sight hunting is all about focus. Don't take your eyes off your prey for a second. Catch the fish and you will eat.” Prowl instructed.

Jazz hesitated for a moment. Then the hollow call of his stomach galvanized him to action.

Jazz bolted after the lamed fish and something began to sing in his veins. That feeling started deep in his bones and radiated up to tingle just under his skin. It electrified every muscle in his body from the tip of his tail to the end of his nose. He had never felt so at ease in water. He could feel the movement of the currents and somehow he knew exactly how to play off it. He dove and twirled and the fish scattered in a fluttering cloud of silver. A flick of his tail and he separated the other half of the herd.

He smiled as zeroed in on his target.

This felt good.

This felt right.

This felt fun.

The taste of silver fish in his mouth had never been so sweet.

[tenderhooked]

Camcorder kidnapping update? 👀🤞🙏

okay i am VERY aware that this ask was sent to me long before i even posted chapter one however. WE ARE GONNA IGNORE THAT!!!! and in fact i wanna share a bit from much, much later on in camcorder, like extremely later on. so! here's a clip from scene that i was working on a couple weeks ago that is very near and dear to me:

“River,” Lamb says, and is horrified to discover that his voice is wrecked to the ear; no, no. He needs to be staid. For River. He clears his throat and says again, “River, lad. You remember what that—what that bastard told you? The very first day he had you, he told you that the reason I chose Slough House was because nothing matters, and no one is meant to get hurt.” He pauses for a brief moment, just long enough to witness how the words shudder through River’s body, how his head tucks fleetingly into the pillow in a vague nod, and then continues before Payne’s voice has a chance to rise up in River’s ears and drown out everything else. “He made you think it was your fault, didn’t he. Sid, Min. Marcus. Jackson Lamb only ever wanted one thing, and River Cartwright took it from him.”

A sound escapes River; an awful, wretched whimper, the rest of him clearly too exhausted and worn-out to do anything more than shiver in the way of an animal left to the whims of winter, poised to receive the punishment that it’s convinced will be inflicted upon its body. It’s heartbreaking. It’s heartbreaking, and Lamb nearly gives in again to the urge to take River into his arms and bundle him to his chest, soothe a palm down the curve of River’s skull, murmur gentle, comforting nothings until they were all River could hear. But he restrains himself. If he touches River, if he ruins this fragile blossom flowering between them, he will never be able to come back. He’d have to cut himself from River’s life like a tumor, so he wouldn’t infect him ever again.  The prospect of it is nauseating. To be without River now would be to have a limb removed, would be to have a map with no compass rose. Lamb has to keep him. For himself as much as for River. He has to keep him and protect him. So, without knowing precisely where he’s going, he continues, “He lied, River. He lied. None of them were your fault. Not a one.” Carefully, with unerring precision, he settles his hand flat on the mattress. Not anywhere near River, but close enough to prove that he’s not going away. His fingers flex against the bedsheets, a spasm that he can’t control. The anger is molten within him; he has to let it harden somehow, or else it’ll burn his boy to the core. Because it’s not anger with River. No, never anger with him. It’s anger at Payne. At what he did. At how he stole River and wounded him with the noose of Lamb around his throat. How dare he. How fucking dare he. “I didn’t blame you for them then, and I’m not blaming you for them now. I won’t ever blame you for them.” He allows the sentiment to settle in the air and takes the pause to drink in the sight of River, bathed in the quiet lamplight. The familiar length of him, the soft mop of his hair. It looks redder beneath the lamp, a burnished russet that makes Lamb think, inexplicably, of a small boy with bright eyes and a toddling walk, a laugh that could have brought even the old bastard to his knees with devotion. And then, later, a small boy with a hot welt swelling plump on his cheek, a cowering fright of those who were supposed to protect him turning him ever smaller, ever more delicate, ever more precious. He’s looking at his River but he’s seeing another River altogether. The River he didn’t get to save. The River he didn’t get to love. It splinters within him, that loss. God, if only he had known. If only he had known. There’s an unsteady breath that travels up River’s spine, a sharp burst of inhale-exhale, and his head turns ever so very slightly. Still smothered by pillow, still hidden to Lamb. Yet it’s everything. If it’s all Lamb ever got, he would be content with it. With the knowledge that he hasn’t frightened River away from him forever.  “A baker’s dozen,” he says, soft, and his hand fists again around the bedsheets as though it’s River that he’s holding tight and safe. “Remember, lad? By now, I’ve lost ten times that. No one is meant to get hurt but that doesn’t mean no one ever does.” Tentatively, he inches forward on his aching, throbbing knees, unable to quell the desperate need to at least be close to River, if he can’t cradle him. “And you—you’re hurt, River. You think I want that? You think I want you hurting? I—never in my life have I wanted anything less.”

[gingermintpepper]

For the longest time, the quintessential song describing Apollo's wrath and consequent murder of Coronis for me was Marah in the Mainsail's 'Your Work isn't Done'.

It's dark. It's seething. Its image of Fate pushing the scorned speaker to complete his foul, terrible work of killing the man who stole his lover away from him is particularly powerful and it's always evoked this gruesomely tragic evolution of a glassy eyed Apollo stumbling through the streets, weak-legged and trembling from the betrayal growning more and more wrathful 'til he can think of no other course than to aim his bow and shoot. The price of betraying his trust is death and Coronis betrayed so much more than just his trust by taking Ischys as her lover.

The song itself captures that sensation of building wrath so well too. From the lonely guitar and vocals at the beginning which evoke this lonely, stripped back but distant grief to the way the singer is practically screaming his refrain of "Your work here isn't done" by the end, accompanied by the full blasting of instruments and an omnious chorus at his side, everything about this song is centered around building stakes, building realisations, building tensions and it creates this feeling of the speaker growing closer and closer with each new verse and chorus that adds to his anger.

There's also the absolute treasure trove of lyrics that work so well for specifically this tale. A brief overview of some of my favourites include;

- There's a crow overhead singing "Oh, Death is my friend."

- And though you think your time has come, the wheels of Fate have spun. Death has declared your work here isn't done.

- There's a girl on my heart safe ashore in her lover's arms

There's just such a vivid image to be drawn here - of Apollo's emotions being swallowed by his rage, of his resolve to end everything the more he bears witness to Coronis' brazen affair. There's even a strong female voice in the first two verses which seem to egg the speaker on in his spiral - a perfect opening to include Artemis who wishes for her brother to hunt that which brought him such pain alongside her. An Artemis who reinforces just what Coronis has done, an Artemis who does not want her brother to repress his anger after such grave an insult just because love was once there.

To me, it was perfect. Apollo's killing of Coronis was a crime of passion, an execution he sometimes cannot even bring himself to commit according to who is telling the tale. It's a wretched situation, harrowing, suffocating and cruel but if not by Apollo's hands, Coronis would simply die by another's. She cannot live after what she has done. The gods simply would not allow it.

AND THEN MY BIAS WAS COMPLETELY WRECKED BY LORD HURON.

Now, let it be known, I am a huge Lord Huron fan. Strange Trails is perhaps the most Apollo-coded album I've ever heard and songs like Yawning Grave and The Balancer's Eye capture such a visceral, gorgeous portrait of cosmic grief and anger that they haven't really left my brain since I first listened to them. Still, 'Setting Sun' from their Lonesome Dream album completely flew under my radar. Maybe it's because the commercial version is so much snappier than the Alive from Whispering Pines recording, maybe it's because I just hadn't listened to Lord Huron's discography in a while but my god. My god.

This song has it all; a quiet menace in its music, a strong male singer who sounds only barely restrained, an absolute HOST of lyrics that are so wonderfully perfect for the scenario -- after getting over how wonderful the song itself is, I immediately dethroned Your Work isn't Done because ultimately, 'Setting Sun' has something in abundance that 'Your Work isn't Done' minimised in order to focus on the wrath driving the song forward.

And that's love.

Setting Sun is so powerful because it's not just a revenge ballad - it's a dirge, a breakup song, a lament, a regret manifesto. So many times during the song, the speaker wonders when his lover stopped loving him. He recounts intimate moments and wonders if his lover was thinking of the other man when she was enjoying herself, wonders if anything she'd said was even real. And I love that so, so much.

Ultimately, Apollo adored Coronis. As inevitable as her death was, he regretted every second of it. No matter how angry, no matter how betrayed, no matter how intensely he was shamed, he still loved her. He weeps for her when she dies, he screams and grieves and cries when he's faced with her corpse. In some tales, no matter the cocktail of emotion driving him, he simply cannot bring himself to kill her. He'd rather cry in Artemis' arms and take his anger out on his own servant than hurt her. His own father has to dispatch Ischys since Apollo can't even bring himself to hurt that which Coronis once loved. Of course, in this case, Apollo's going to kill someone but the point is, it's not a decision of pure anger so much as its this complicated, horrible mix of resolve and lost love.

And my god does Setting Sun capture this conflict, passion, grief and love so well. UGH, I'm vibrating just thinking about it -- there are so many points where I hear its lyrics and can vividly picture Apollo, jaw clenched looking Coronis in her eyes and quietly confronting her.

Coronis, returning home at twilight after spending the day with Ischys to Apollo stringing his bow, "Oh? Is he ready to die for you baby? No, but you know I would."

Coronis lying to him about who she's spent her time with and Apollo's soft, near pained, "Does it hurt when you lie to me? If you asked, I would set you free."

I even really love the image of a Coronis who runs away from Apollo upon realising what will soon happen, not to escape his arrows but to warn Ischys who does not know what will happen. Of Apollo getting into his stance, taking aim at them and gathering his strength as the final refrains rings out "I know I'll never reclaim your love and that's as hard as it gets, so I'll be taking a life when the sun sets."

Other favourite lines of mine include;

- Oh, is he ready to die for you baby, now that the deed is done?

- Tell me when did I lose your love? Was it him you were thinking of?

- And I could never betray your love, you had me heart and soul. You might never have known it girl, but I was all yours.

And ultimately, I just like this conflicted portrait of premeditated murder much more than the crime of passion 'Your Work isn't Done' paints. Crimes of passion - especially when Apollo is concerned - are tragic in their own right, but in Coronis' case, I think I prefer it so much more when there's no way for Apollo's action to be misconstrued for anything other than what it is, especially since he goes on to cut Asclepius from his mother's corpse then carry on with building her funeral pyre. I think there's something so much more impacting about Apollo being unable to hide away from Coronis' blood on his hands and him having to raise Asclepius with those selfsame hands.

Love of the mortal does not supercede the responsibility of the divine. If Coronis' sentence no matter what is death, who better to lead her gently to the knife than he who still loves her?

[madness-combat-confessions]

Homeboy let me tell you on this one, I didn't know there's a madcom specific confession blog out here its quite surprising which. oh brother (gender neutral). you would loooovvveee this particular gossip that had been navigating its way to the dark tunnels of my mind back and forth like a wandering ghost about to get fucking tazed by someone who's reeling in power trip in the distant northern region of britain because buddy, do you know that feeling of self discovery plundered about with self resignation? I've been WAITING to confess this my whole life, I'm like a sinner in one of those confession box and you in your awesome fit is listening to a year long obsession crumpled into few paragraphs with no way of knowing who I am or where to exorcise me. ehhehehehe. AHAHAHAHHAHA.

I FUCKING HATE PHOBOS. IHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIM—

OBSESSION SO FIXED IT IS A BLESSING IN FORM OF FAILED LOBOTOMY. HE'S BEEN ON MY LIFESPAN UNBEARABLY WELCOMING LIKE THE GRIP OF AN BOXER,

I HATE. HIM.

HIS EXISTENCE IS NOTHING SHORT BUT AN MIRACLE TO MY BLEAK EXISTENCE, OF WHOM HAD FILLED MY TORMENTED COMPLEX WITH A LITTLE BIT OF JOY THAT IT. HURT. IT'S A SENSATION OF RETURNED LOSS WHENEVER HE MADE HIMSELF AT HOME WITHIN MY TORMENT NEXUS AND IT SPEAKS OF AN UNSPOKEN RESIGNATION TO A DEATHLY WORSHIP, A FIXATION SO BOUND SO BLINDING ITS LIFE RUINING YET SO FUCKING REWARDING. MY MUTUALS, MY DEAREST BELOVED MUTUALS WHO HAD KNOWN ME FROM MY MADCOM PHASE (if y'all see this and recognize me somehow, hey man), SEES ME AS— you know what they see? THEY SEES ME AS T.H.E PHOBOS ENJOYER. THEY CAN S E E ME SCRAPING HELL TO BACK FOR A REMINDER OF HIS IMAGE ON THEIR WINDOWS AS IF I WAS THEIR NEIGHBOR GOING MAD AND DIGGING A HOLE OVER IT BECAUSE I HATE HIM SO MUCH

HOWEVER... I LOVE HIM AS A CHARACTER TOO BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH HE HAD OFFERED ME TO GROW AS A PERSON AND THAT UTTERLY WRECKED ME.

THIS VISAGE OF A BARREN EMPIRE, HE HAS BROUGHT ME TO TEARS AS MUCH AS HE HAD MADE ME BARKED. HE HELPED ME UNLIKE ANY OTHER IN MY FUCKING LIFE AND ISN'T THAT JUST DISSAPOINTING YET BEAUTIFUL? ITS HIM. HIM THAT MADE ME REALIZE MY HUMANITY.

He's a reminder of what I could've be if I don't step up to care for my mental health, and as hot as the idea of me being a CEO there's no fucking way I'll fucking bootlick the horrors beyond my comprehension especially when I have the corporate power not to. I wanna fight those thangs, I want a war not power. Its because of this very reason that he's my existential horror that I don't mind worshiping. A welcoming hand to my new world as a human being instead of a piece of nothing, and I don't know if I should be thankful or be angry that it was him instead of tha hottie sweetie Sanford. But. Its undeniable of what he had done to me. There's a piece of me in that wretched soul, I can't help but to care but for the HATE I have for him this care has been translated in the same manner of how people treated Spamton G Spamton. Violence all the way, a beautiful blend of loving violence. I'll worship him from hell to back if it meant that I could beat the ever loving FUCK outta this mf, I want his blood in my kidneys and for it break down the animalistic copper from my taste buds into nutrients so that my arteries can intimately understand how much I have come to HATE him since he decided to break into my psyche all those years ago. He made me understand myself, I find that beautiful.

Its been one year since the obsession wore off you know? I don't gone mad no more baby, the sin of gluttony and wrath no longer traced the ceiling of my mind because all is there is ORDER. A calm acknowledgement of what he had done to me as a person. But no laws can tame the most shitheads of them all, you won't hear me saying this if it had won the internal war back here in my frontal cortex.

I love him, your honor. And because of that I desire so greatly for the act of violence both to him and in his name as a honor to myself, whole and bare, which eventually circles back to him again.

The complexity of my opinion on him were a beautiful tapestry of my own personal growth, a careful blend of colorful care. I no longer feel indifferent towards myself and its all thanks to him. He's my most beloved blorbo, he saved me from a life of neverending agony. I pray every day that I could get a job just so that one day, ONE. DAY. our lord Krinkles turned him into a marketable plushie. Just so that a visage of him can complete the shrine I'm about to build for him as I whisper promises of violence for him and to him.

Yeah... He's my blorbo ♥

I'm gonna start getting therapy appointments for you guys../j

[great20sworld]

LIVING THE DREAM

A Viktor x Reader fanfiction

Author's note: Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6 and chapter 7 are available in my Tumblr page along with summary.

Chapter 8: Birth of an Era

___________________________

"The arcane is a curse upon our world"

"This power corrupts and consumes"

"Escape the warmongering of mages, not cultivate it"

The storm in his mind had endured those prejudiced, cowardly voices of those councillors who deemed themselves worthy to run piltover. It hurt, but it didn't destroy. Until he heard one voice, desperate and uncaring of the storm he had cultivated through his toils. The voice he loved, destroying him without even knowing it.

"My son isn't in his right mind"

"...chased an impossible dream"

"...foolish and unwise"

For goodness sake, magic saved her life! Nobody could have comprehended what he saw that day- the light, the beauty which blinded him and saved him, which prompted him to believe, gave him a purpose, a dream to set down on the road to.

Now?

Now the very same was being ripped apart from his very core. The trees of knowledge, of the gorgeous magic which had deep routed itself on his mind was being ripped away by uncaring hands, the pain bleeding down to his soul. Mrs. Kiramman, Caitlyn, all of them... They had believed in him once, and because of some wretched burglars who wrecked his entire workshop they paid the price of being humiliated just like him for what he had chased down. He hated to admit it, he really did- but he has no more fight left in him. The empty soul withering away without its passion. Jayce had left the crystal which he had kept binded to his wrist for so long on a boulder next to the edge. Let everyone know why he did it. If anyone cared.

The thriving city which he could view from up here mocked him all the same, making his head throb with the pain of rejection like the strike of a hammer down on it. He couldn't even fathom the thought of retreating back into the shadows of their forge and building hammers, when his heart still lay elsewhere.

He had failed. Failed to unveil the light of progress to his beloved piltover, and if he couldn't do it- there was no hope left.

The nails of his fingers digging into his palm as he clenched them tightly brought him to the present and he inches closer to the edge...

Goodbye cruel world.

See you on the other....

"Am I interrupting?"

Startled, he turns, breath hitching, almost losing the balance he had.

The assistant.

Is this man an omen? He seems to be there always whenever Jayce is broken!

He scoffs, covering his face with an exasperation he hadn't thought possible till now.

"The hell's your problem?! What's that? Another list with my name on it?"

He wants to snatch it from his hands and throw it into the abyss.

"Actually...yes. But, only because you signed your notes. Every page, might I add..." Golden eyes darted over the pages.

"Eh...a little egotistical, don't you think?"

Patience is a virtue and Jayce is a saint.

"Is that why you came? To insult me?" Jayce spat, turning away in contempt.

"No...no, I was intrigued by what you said at the trail"

What is his deal?

"That makes you the only one." Jayce says, as he hears the end of a metal cane tap on concrete as the man approaches tries to approach his side.

"Yes, well, I wanted to talk about your work... This hextech theory of yours"

How Jayce hated when another in the scientific community voices them as mere "theories".

"It's not a theory! I saw with my own eyes what magic can do, the lives it could save...you've no idea how beautiful it is..!"

The cold bite of frost, of the raging snowstorm in the mountains, the frozen weight of his mother's form next to him, the desperation with which he called out to the hooded figure and the warmth he had felt when saved... Jayce remembers it as clear as yesterday.

"...and now it's gone" his voice wavered, and he hoped the man didn't notice. "No one believed me."

"..."

"Nobody's ever believed in me. A poor, cripple from the undercity? I was an outsider the moment I stepped foot in Piltover... I didn't have the benefits of a patron or a name... I simply believed in myself. Which is why I'm here, because I think- you're onto something"

Jayce looks at him. This man who appeared as if he was one of the aristocrats, calm composed and with palpable gentleness, had a certain set look in his amber eyes. It was different from the cold blue of his professors, and the judgmental, only barely tolerant ones of his patrons. It was... Hopeful. The eyes of someone who seeks, who explores.

"I want to help you complete your research." He states, looking out into the world below them.

"No one thinks it can be done..." Jayce reminds him, softly.

"When you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission."

The man says, before extending his hand, the crystal resting in his palm, looking back at him invitingly.

Is this a dream?

Could he be hopeful...once more?

With a hesitation only weakly fueled by self doubt, Jayce takes the crystal from his hand, clenching his palm around it, as if making a promise.

One more time.

He looks back at the man.

"I don't even know your name...."

"It's Viktor." He answers.

_______________________________

Well, you now know the meaning of hyperventilating, your eyes trained on the scene unfolding before you. You resist the urge to applaud as Jayce and Viktor finish their conversation, careful not to blow your cover carefully hidden behind the veils of darkness which filled the place, feeling as if you were getting the front row seats to the movie you were waiting for for years- and it did not disappoint.

You couldn't resist the squeal coming.

"what the- who's there?!" Jayce becomes startled, turning around as Viktor is also alerted. You cover is blown when their eyes land on you.

"YOU!" Jayce points at you and gasps, as Viktor looks at Jayce.

"You know her too?"

"yes! She came to my prison cell last day!" Jayce says, looking at Viktor. "Your advice was completely useless by the way." He directs his gaze back to you.

Viktor shakes his head disapprovingly. "So you did go there!"

Jayce looks at Viktor. "Is she your assistant?"

Viktor frantically shakes his head negatively while you frantically nod.

"no!" Says Viktor, "Yes!" You say.

"Jayce, don't you think it's high time we get to work? Figure out whatevers up with that...umm..." You gesture vaguely towards his crystal.

"oh yes! The leftover calculations are on my board...wish we had some light..." Jayce says, walking through the small rubble piles.

"Oh, like this one?" You say, smiling triumphantly as you pull out a kerosene lamp from your bag.

"You seem awfully prepared..." Viktor muses as he takes the lamp from you and lights it, it's soft luminescence bathing the dilapidated room.

"I am your assistant afterall..." You smirk.

"you're not-"

"Over here, yes... This is where I've been struggling with the calculations..." Jayce says, sitting down on and opening the notebook which Viktor brought.

You walk over to Jayce, sitting down next to him and leaning towards the notebook to get a better look at the figures, since you realise to your disappointment that most of what is written is in a language you do not follow, and only a small portion of it is legible English. Viktor goes to study the blackboard, picking up a chalk absentmindedly from the small box sitting next to it. You expected to be completely stumped by the diagrams and calculations, but surprisingly- as if something clicked, your eyes are stuck on what appears to be the planetary model. Beneath it is written, "crystal needs excitement".

The gears in your brain starts to turn hopefully. Seems like the source for this power is something resembling the electrons in an atom. Could it be that the energy could be similar to electricity? "Attracts other metals in short vicinity" the next sentence read. Attracting metals- magnetic property. Whatever this was, the excitation of it lead to magnetic properties of the material.

Electromagnetism. Analogues to it, maybe?

Your gaze darts towards Viktor who was redoing the calculations on board, regarding what you thought was frequency- based on a graph which showed values in various units of Hertz. So, that was valid in this world.

"Does the crystal have an energy field around it, Jayce?" You question, looking at Jayce.

"An energy field? Yes, it reacts whenever it is penetrated and..."

"produces magnetic properties? Such as attracting metals and behaving like a magnetic needle?"

Viktor's attention catches. "Based on this- yes..."

It was indeed electromagnetism. You mind rushes through all the info you had. "So we have to provide the crystal with energy which channels its own energy to circulate in it- until it looses its magnetic field, and yet works, without the added energy loss..."

Both Viktor and Jayce looks at you, and you're relieved to see a small flicker of interest in the former's gaze.

"If we could get it to work without an external field, we could be onto something." Jayce supplies helpfully, ruffling through the pages in which he had elaborated what appeared to be the laws of thermodynamics but with the added modifications for this world.

"Here, Jayce, you said it emits light?" Viktor circles something regarding the factory of photons on the board. "Yes, when hit with light, it seemed to be excited- but also not so much to keep it going."

Your brain starts to remember. "If we channel the residual energy into a bigger energy state, maybe while destabilising, or returning to stability it might emit the energy we require?" You ask timidly, remembering that particles do tend to jump from higher energy levels to lower energy levels to gain stability and from lower to higher when supplied with sufficient energy.

Jayce finds himself at a loss of words and looks at Viktor, who, to his surprise looked like the answer was in the tip of his tongue.

"wait a moment, we're getting something like this here..." He mutters, the speed of chalk scratching on the blackboard increasing as he proceeds.

Could it be similar to photoelectric effect? You had to check. You get up from your seat, taking a chalk from the box and drawing a small diagram which depicts rings of energy and particles on them and an incoming ray of light represented as a wiggly arrow. You note Viktor's gaze following you.

"Does it emit similar amounts of energy it is hit with? Then, we'll need quite an amount of frequency for the source of energy which hits it to produce something reasonable out of it." You supply.

"That can't be right..." Jayce's sighs. "All this time, I thought I should dampen the oscillations, because in very high frequencies, the crystal might as well detonate..."

"No..." Viktor breathes, his gaze darting to the diagram you made. He writes something on the bottom most ring in your drawing, and then mumbling something to himself, followed by scribbling something on the topmost ring. He nods to himself before tapping what he was writing down on the board, going through whatever was discussed behind him through written format and equations. "....the residual energy will only even stabilise at high frequency, she's right! We'll have to-..."

"Crank it!" Jayce and you chime in unison, eyes bright with excitement, your lips spread in a delighted grin.

Viktor turns, and then nods affirmatively, looking like a proud teacher, "yes! Yes...We'll have to... Crank it!"

"It works!" Jayce says, smiling at you and Viktor. "Eh, on paper..." Viktor says, quirking his brow at the blackboard. You feel your heart quicken when his golden gaze lingers on the diagram you made, with his lips quirking upwards.

"we could have tested it if we had access to my equipment" Jayce runs a tired hand through his face.

"....which is being destroyed tomorrow"

Viktor's words stops both your and Jayce's train of thought, the disaster about to arrive making both of you loose focus. Jayce's more so than yours. "What?!" He exclaims, jumping up to his feet.

"Oh... I, yeah. I, meant to tell you..." Viktor stutters abashedly, looking towards you as well as if for further confirmation.

Jayce's heart races, his mind in catastrophe. All those sleepless nights, early mornings, his blood sweat and tears were spent on those research equipments, with countless findings and puzzle pieces for the next upcoming ones as well. They can't just destroy it!

"That research is everything! My...my whole life. Maybe if we showed them the equations they'd let us..." Desperation shines through Jayce's voice

"We need more than promises." Viktor says, with mild finality. "We need...proof."

"Besides, they don't care about the groundwork, the mechanisms- they're not scientists or researchers. What they need... Is the tangible product." You say, dejectedly, a memory grazing your mind about how your projects had gotten rejected more than once because of lack of "scope".

Viktor looks at you in a brief moment of understanding. You both saw eyes to eyes before Jayce interrupts.

"Not without the crystals. The enforcers took them all. They're gone." His throat constricts slightly, as if swallowing down an emotional heart stuck in his throat, threatening to make him cry, as he sinks back down to his seat. Poor thing. You're about to comfort him when suddenly,

"yeah, locked away in heimerdinger's lab" says the smart voice with keys jingling at the end, emerging from his pocket.

Oh, how had you managed to forget this part?

"No. No. No! You heard the council, if we're wrong..."

"Better be right then." A tiny mischevious smile with a glimmer in his eye. You feel a flutter in your stomach when for a brief moment, the gaze seemed to approach yours, as if to show you how tricky he can be.

"Why? Why would you risk this?!" Jayce implores, eyes narrowed in disbelief at the lankier man.

Oh boy, here goes.

"Do you think it was my life's ambition to be an assistant?!"

"Scientists seek discoveries- ways to make the world a better place!"

You felt shivers down your spine at the passion lacing his accentuated voice. Nothing more captivating than true focus in it.

"This hextech dream of yours...has the potential to do that..."

"Don't worry Jayce, we'll make your hextech dream a hextech- reality." You smile encouragingly.

Jayce rises from his seat, walking over to between you and Viktor, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, gripping it promisingly.

"Our hextech dream." He states, as your heart soars.

____________________________________

"So far so good..." Viktor whispers crouched infront of the lock, of the door labelled "Prof. HEIMERDINGER", Jayce holding up the tiny light for him and you holding the notebook and crystal, behind them. Viktor and you had convinced Jayce to break into Heimerdinger's lab and take what's rightfully his. Viktor was about to turn the final lock when suddenly, a brighter light shines onto your faces. Jayce flinches, your eyes narrowed and Viktor hisses.

You stiffle an out of place chuckle.

You three lift your gazes to meet Mel Medarda's sharp, serious demeanour with a hint of playfulness about her.

"Hmm. Willing to risk exile for your endeavour. That's quite the conviction." She comments, her voice soft velvet, but the context making it dangerous. The golden ornaments around her commanding attention to her presence even in this dark hallway.

"The councillor! Uh- what a surprise to see you, huh?" Jayce fumbles, trying to sound as if this was a completely normal situation, as Viktor suddenly comes up with pearls of words making you want to facepalm and walk away.

"Wait a minute, this isn't my bedroom...! Heh... How could I have-..." He pretends to fiddle with the keys, looking at the lock as if it had betrayed him. Jayce and you exchange disappointed looks, and with a sigh, Jayce decides to take matters into his own hands as he straightens up.

"Please. We can prove that it works."

The beautiful voice snaps back with controlled derision. "Hmm. You couldn't do so earlier today, how is tonight any different?"

"We figured out how to stabilise it." Says Viktor, straightening up alongside you, flinching lightly when the light flashes at him.

"You're the professor's assistant."

"No, he's my new partner." Jayce corrects her, making you smile gently.

Her gaze floats over to you, fixing on you with grace. "And you? Never seen you before.."

"Uhm... I-" you stammer.

"She's my assistant! New addition, latest interview."

Jayce and you look at Viktor, mildly surprised. You feel your ears go slightly pink at Viktor's words.

"Um...yes! She's part of this project too!" Jayce saves the lie. Mel didn't seem to be in disbelief. She focuses her attention back on Jayce.

"Even if you manage to prove your theory, the Council would destroy it."

"Heimerdinger will recognise the potential." Viktor says confidently. Mel scoffs at that. "He already does, and it scares him. It scares them all."

"What about you?" You ask suddenly, remembering her interested expression back in the trail. Her smirk fades, considering the three of you before speaking in a voice which you believed to be reserved for the council.

"I recognise that any worthwhile venture involves risk."

Suddenly, all of you are alerted by a whistle sounding from just around the corner, seemingly from a guard of the academy. You sense Viktor and Jayce freezing, as Jayce quickly tries to save you all...

"Councilor, this technology, it's real. And no matter what happens here, it's going to change our world. We should be the ones to lead it. Piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation! I know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us?"

"Please...just give us a chance."

The tension in the air grows with Mel's momentary silence as Viktor and Jayce hold their breath, preying to everything internally. Meanwhile, you were just glad to be here. Mel finally speaks,

"One night, gentlemen and assistant. Impress me, or I'd suggest you pack your bags." The words ignited excitement within all three of you. Mel turns towards the corner, switching of her flashlight and distracts the guard expertly, like the dazzling charming Councillor she is.

Jayce flicks back on the light and grins to himself appreciatively, and Viktor opens the door.

_____________________________________

"Wow, this soldering iron heats up so well! And no residue at the tip! And look at that rheostat! The resistance is so precise at each point, holy-!" You squeal over the equipments in the middle of work the three of you are engaged in (your work field in electrical sciences back at home helping you immensely) as Jayce removes his goggles to look at you curiously.

Your suggestion of the crystal being stabilised enough to become destabilized by high energy supply later had Viktor saying that more power sources would be required for such a process. So you and Jayce were building metallic platforms and holders to conduct more power into the circuitry for the crystal, while Viktor fishes out the said crystal amoungst all the other things in heimerdinger's lab.

"Sorry, sorry... it's just, where I come from, the lab isn't maintained this well..." You giggle softly, still looking over the equipments. "Where are you from?" Jayce asks in turn, and you are so thankful for Viktor's interruption.

"Everything's intact, right?" He passes over the blue breathtakingly gorgeous crystals over to Jayce. "Yes." Jayce says and you move over to their side of the massive table where the setup is as you watch him put the orb on top of a small metallic platform you and him crafted right now. Immediately, you are left to marvel at how the energy is derived from the crystal, the wires linked to it sparking brilliantly. So there was indeed a force field self contained inside it.

"It's time to crank it." You've never seen Viktor look so giddy yet uncertain until now.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Jayce questions, looking at the crystal which may or may not blow up everything, destroying all of you- to which his partner grimaces and shakes his head. This was the assistant Heimerdinger chose to handle all tech that was dangerously improving within the academy walls. Absolutely fabulous.

"You do realise that this thing can kill us, right?" You question, looking over to the skeletal man. "You do realise half of this idea is your own suggestion, right?" He questions back with a smirk. This man. This absolute unit of work.

Jayce switches on the circuitry, and the orb crackles, it's jagged edges emitting bright blue hues, painting all that is near in its colour of vibrancy. Viktor presses the button to increase the supply frequency from the main source. The metal arches clanks and spins angrily, the forcefield powerful enough to spin out shards from the table.

"I don't think it will hold! Look at the build up...!" Jayce worries.

"The resonance will stabilise it. Trust me!" Viktor reassures him, his eyes narrowed but never turning away from the contraption.

"If we manage to reach maximum amplitude... Shouldn't we be able to see the flux?" You ask, unsure.

"oh, I'll show you the flux!" Viktor grits his teeth behind sealed lips and increases the speed of the rotating metallic wanes. The three of you watch as the crystal behind to float in its own created power field, its small metallic platforms spreading around it like a lotus. You grin. "Huh... So it did."

You didn't miss Viktor's playful smirk directed at you as he leans over to Jayce "I told you it would work... All yours." He gives Jayce the room to inspect his creation. Jayce is lost for words as he inches closer to the miracle. "It's never done that before..." He looks at you and Viktor before hesitantly reaching over to the dial to crank it. "All right. Here we go."

The crystal rises up towards the small metallic arches, its forcefield reacting with the special structures attached halfway onto to the top, the frequency of energy input making it growl like an ill-contained beast with potential no one could dream of- beautiful intricate arcs being made in mid air as it soars within its confinement.

One could only contain a beast for so long.

It explodes- blinding you temporarily with a flash, the energy release so powerful it sends you tumbling down onto the cold hard floor as a beam of charge shatters from the small crystal to the window, dangerously radiant and blazing.

"DISENGAGE!" Viktor shouts, ducking down to the table as Jayce tries to reach the button, but he's too dazzled.

You stand up quickly, your otherworldly strength making it easier for you reach over and slam the button, resisting against the magical forcefield, but not before the glass shards from the broken window implodes and cuts through the air hazardously. The crystal, loosing its motive of lethal disturbance falls back down to the platform, plunging you all in darkness as inertia makes the three of you tumble backwards, you hitting the floor first because you were already crouching. Your elbows hit the floor as you try to get up, Viktor trips right on top of you.

"Incredible!" The golden eyed man says in bated breath.

Startled at the sudden intrusive contact, you lift your torso, only for your nose to bump against viktor's, his dark hair hanging over his forehead brushing against your forehead, right when Jayce softly turns on the circuit, bringing back the light, illuminating the tender sight of his face in front of your eyes. A moment passes. Then, Gasping, and flustered, Viktor gets up, stuttering apologies.

"umm...You two okay?" Jayce starts, an embarassed expression finding itself on his face, as he tries to ignore the both of you. "Yes! Definitely! Right! So it works!" Viktor immediately starts to talk, hoping to heavens his blush isn't as obvious as he felt it to be. "We just need the right frequency!" You join in, quickly getting up to your feet.

Without wasting any more time, you start to build up the frequency again, this time knowing more accurately what to do. Adjusting the metallic arches for maximum coach, while still allowing room for garbage discharges, and safety valve action Jayce runs the system again. Suddenly, you hear something from outside.

Footsteps. Multiple of them.

"Someone's coming!" You warn, turning to the men. Soon enough, someone tries to push open the door. Acting fast, Viktor pushes his cane in between the door handles but it seemed as though it wasn't enough, as the banging increases in strength. You immediately press your back against the doors, pushing it back, hoping your strength acts up. Viktor turns to Jayce, his voice filled with controlled urgency.

"They're almost through! No pressure..." He tries to be calm. "That sounds like pressure!" Jayce yells incredulously.

Your breath quickens, feeling the door hit against your back everytime the big tremors of kicks and punches rocks the other side. Viktor's attention darts back and forth between you and Jayce frantically. Suddenly, you hear a voice. From your wrist.

"Power 100%. Thank you for the recharge."

Your head turns to look at your wrist. The Chronoporter works! With a delighted grin, you bring your wrist closer to your face so you could see the dial light up and the mechanical voice chime from within quietly to you.

"Chronoporter! You're back!" It felt like greeting an old friend.

"I detect high levels of electrical oscillatory frequencies nearby. Please unplug me..." The Chronoporter says.

"You weren't even connected! The charge was so powerful it enhances everything!" You say giddily. "How?! Nothing can be that powerful that the mere vicinity charged me! " The mechanical voice mimicks human enthusiasm at wonders.

"Y/N who are you talking to? Don't let them know we're inside!" Viktor whisper-shouts to you.

"Oh sorry sorry!" You wince, and say softly to the Chronoporter. "Be quiet now, I'll talk to you later." The Chronoporter engages mute in its system. "Good watch." You sigh, feeling the kicks behind you again, this time more powerful- the seams of the huge door rattling violently. A kick to the middle, however, hits your spine, making you fall forward. Viktor comes to your aid, pulling you up.

"Are you okay?" His worried voice makes you smile as his eyes roam to your spine for any cuts of bruises. "Yes..." You hold onto his arm as you get up, his bad leg trembling lightly from supporting you, but his attention is stretched to the crystal which floated amoung the symbols, spinning and destabilizing amoung the strange symbols floating around and over it, as the man who believed in their potential closes his eyes, envisioning all that magic had to offer to his life.

For progress.

The crystal's glow intensifies, surrounding air crackling with magic as blue filaments sparkles around and zipped through its force fields like tiny blue commets, the rumbling emanating from the core suddenly evolving into a thunderous crack unleashing a torrent of energy, a plethora of symbols buzzing past the shimmering light, the mesmerising dance of energy through the labyrinthe of wires meticulously constructed by you three as the floor seemed to fall beneath your feet...

The enforcers break down the door, Heimerdinger stepping in with them...

The air stilled in reverent awe at the breathtaking marvel before their eyes.

Suspended in radiance of azure, Jayce, you and Viktor drifted in the air, as if in space, surrounded by shimmering stardust like particles. The patterns of magnetic field in the ceiling as you floated close enough to touch it. The exhilarating ecstacy finding home in your faces was delightful as the fields of the crystal seemed to cradle you lovingly. Jayce was chuckling happily, with shaky breaths as Viktor gazed around, both his legs working to push him forward in the air.

Your {eye colour} eyes meets the golden ones, a shy intertwining of gazes of two souls floating in pure arcane magic, an exchange of delight, a tale as old as time. Your heart soars as you look the man who seemed like an angel with a halo over his head, his cheeks covering softly in a blush. Due to joy or the adrenaline rush, you didn't know. Other voices and noises in the room seemed to blue around you, only registering that you two weren't the only ones here when Heimerdinger says,

"Will you please stop hovering?"

You chuckle as Viktor winces. "I'm not sure how to do that, sir!"

"This is not what Piltover's future looks like, my dear boys....and....girl..." Heimerdinger says, his gaze directed upwards at the three of you.

"That's for the council to decide." The rich velvet voice sounds through the door, as Mel walks in, the scene framed perfectly for her to admire.

"Perhaps it's time. For the era of Magic."

"Uh, Hextech. For the era of Hextech." Jayce corrects her happily, hovering upside down.

Era of Hextech indeed.

You thought in as much relief as jubilation- everything was going according to plan.

Innocently enough, you were in such thrill to not remember what the eye of zaun had achieved in the depths of the undercity, with the same crystal, and a little girl who handled it. Neither were you aware of the eye which watched from the shadows, sent for you.

____________________________________

Chapter 9 available NOW in my Tumblr page.

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Cream Filling: Chapter 08

This is part of an ongoing series, you can read the previous entry here!

Heads up: This is a "bridge" chapter. While there's no sex, it's important to get from point a to point b.

CW: Stabbing, abusive ex partner, torture. This time, he DOES show up and is violent.

The bell’s chime had been nonstop all morning. It seemed the door to the cafe never completely closed, a new wave of customers coming through just as another group was leaving. Every booth and stool was full, along with most of the standing room. The chatter of conversation was a pleasant hum, along with the clink of mugs, plates, and coins. 

Occasionally, it was punctuated with a laugh or a light whistle. Steam from fresh coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, encouraging customers to order more. At the rate they were going, there wouldn’t be time to restock before the truck came. 

At least everyone was pleasant, and their tips reflected that. While most of the newcomers appeared to be from the Asmodeus district, judging by their attire, they were like any other patron, wanting to relax and unwind. Although there was the familiar flash of flirtation in their tone and expression as they ordered. 

Although no concubi at least. 

As Elle wove through the morning rush, nimbly balancing a tray and its contents. Her cheeks hurt from the constant smile she had to keep on, and her throat was starting to become raw with the constant small talk and greetings to the newcomers. And if she talked softer than a shout, the customers had a hard time hearing her. 

She barely managed to set her burden down on the front counter when a wave of fatigue hit. Her hands shook with the effort, and she felt the room start to spin. The ache from her feet suddenly began to spread to joints and shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she resisted the urge to shiver as a chill went up her spine. 

As the gooseflesh spread, Elle began to rub her eyes. Jaw clenched, she went to grab her coat from the back room. The few steps made the dizziness worse, and she instead put a hand on the counter, trying to make her lean look casual. 

One of the demons at the back booth caught her eye, and gave a crooked smile. While he appeared human, the power thrumming through him sent a vibration through her. A few light touches when he was passing over payment had sent a heat through her. As he did so, markings betraying his true form began to swirl across his face and hands. 

“Rookie,” Horac’s voice snapped her back to reality. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him through the kitchen window. He beckoned her over with two fingers. 

Slowly, Elle shuffled over, the motion making the room tilt side to side. Her steps slowly, she made it to the sink, making a show of looking at the ground like she was trying to avoid slipping on the floor. 

“What are-” 

Elle flinched when he put his massive palm on her brow. It was still damp and smelled like soap, so at least he’d washed it. 

Scowling, she grabbed his wrist and tried to pry it off, but he simply shifted his stance and locked his elbow. The motion nearly knocked her off balance, and she dropped her hands to grab onto the side of the sink. 

In a battle of weight, Elle knew she would lose, so she stood still and let his hand rest against her forehead. After a few seconds, he sighed. Shaking his head, ears slapping noisily with the motion, the boarman pinched the bridge of his snout. 

“You’re burning up,” He grumbled matter of factly, then adding further comment under his breath. “And you look clammy.” 

“Am not!” Elle ducked out from under his hand. The motion made the immediate area go sideways and she reeled into a wall. After barely managing to put her hands on it to brace herself, she slowly headed toward the open back door. 

The scent of Wrecks’ smoke break hung in the air. Putting a hand over her mouth, she resisted the urge to wretch. The drider turned to face her, quirking a brow. 

“I just spent the last three days looking after the girls while they were sick,” Horac lectured as he stacked dishes, then began to arrange the plates on the other side of the sink. “You might have gotten it from me. I felt fine, but…” 

He gestured to his form. It figured that he wouldn’t have to worry about the same Illnesses as humans, but then again, Asmodues likely hadn’t been so kind when inflicting his Ire on Horac.  

“I’m not sick!” Elle protested, lingering in the doorway. The cold chill was back, although it had moved from her back to stomach. Sick meant missing work. And with the apartment so close, she wouldn’t entertain the idea. All she had to do was pull through until closing, then she could spend the night and next day recovering. 

She took her menu and began to fan away the cloud of smoke rolling toward her as Wrecks’ sheepishly grinned and shuffled further away. 

“Besides, the rush isn’t over yet.”  

Grumbling, Horac sighed and slowly brought his hand across his snout. When he dropped it, his face was stern, tusks seeming to protrude more than normal. 

“ Elle .” 

The single syllable made her stand up straight. Worse than if he had used her full Name. 

Rolling his ear between his thumb and forefinger, Horac paused and seemed to mentally prepare himself. After a moment, he sighed dramatically and shook his head. 

“You will go home and rest, or I will call Ramses and tell him you’re working while you have a fever, and then he can come down here and tell you what to do.” His face softened, his ears drooping as his eyes became sympathetic. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t the punctuation of a scolding. 

“If you're sick, you need to go home. Or at least not be around the food.” He pointedly looked at the collection of Purgatory Pasties on the plate in front of him, pulling them away when Elle reached for the tray. 

The scowl of disappointment made her feel worse than any words he could have scolded her with. Despite the protests building up, ready to burst, she pushed them back down. Resting her hand on the corner of the table, she put her weight on it. A wave of dizziness hit and she resisted the urge to shiver or waver. 

“I’m not your parent,” Horac’s voice sounded like it was so far away, despite him only being a few feet from her. “but I can’t have you getting customers sick. You know Ramses will take care of you if money is what you’re worried about.” 

Elle hoped that the heat rising to her cheeks wasn’t too noticeable. At least she could blame it on the fever. If word got back to Ramses about the fever and her working while sick, he’d be blowing up her phone. Then he’d probably show up at her place, one thing would lead to another and… 

The stubbornness to continue rose back up. Biting the inside of her cheek, Elle tried to swallow it back down. This wasn’t going to go her way, and she knew it. And the last thing she needed to do was face down Ramses. They had been getting along so well… 

Then, the coppery tang of blood pooled in her mouth. The taste made her stomach flip and she rushed outside, barely making it out of the doorway when she began to vomit. 

“Shepard!” Wrecks dropped his cigarette and rushed to her side. After a few seconds of gesturing wildly, he took her hair and held it back until she finished puking. His forelegs steadied her as she straightened. 

The world around her was blurry, and she felt chills and aches start to spread through her entire body. A white square flashed in front of her face, and she realized that it was Wrecks offering her a handkerchief, which she used to wipe her mouth. 

“So… I may be sick.” She groaned and pulled out her phone. Should she call Aki and crash at his place until she could at least walk straight? But if she got him sick, then he’d be missing work too. Not to mention his home likely wasn’t stocked with human friendly food. Even at her healthiest, the demonic food would make her ill. 

Horac offered her a glass of water, which she used to wash out her mouth. When she took a sip, her whole body heaved and she found herself ready to puke again. 

Putting her phone away, she stumbled to her car. The fatigue hit all at once, and Elle found herself falling against the vehicle. Thankfully, her windows didn’t break. But she caught a glimpse of her reflection. 

Even in the translucent face staring back at her, she could see that she was shivering, her face pale, and it looked like she’d run a mile in the short distance it took to get back to the clunker. 

“What’s the matter, Rare Human of the Mammon District?” A voice sneered. ��Find yourself eating something you shouldn’t have?” 

Elle looked over her shoulder to see Tanpopo, dressed in a thick robe, with fur on the hem. His tail swished behind him, his ears twitching as the breeze brought a new sound his way. Amber eyes glowed in the morning light, fangs flashing mischievously behind full lips. 

“How brave, coming here when I’m all by myself.” Elle grumbled, feeling ready to collapse. “What, are you not getting a kick out of planting those little bomb boys in the cafe anymore?” 

“Ramses stole from me, so it’s only fair I make him a little miserable and lose something in return,” The kitsune shrugged. 

Elle stiffened, reaching for her phone. 

“Relax, if you think I’m stupid enough to try and harm you in the street–”

“I do. And I’ll call Horac out here. Or Ramses. He’s been wanting to–” 

Tanpopo put a hand to his chest like he’d been wounded. However, the smirk never left his face. His eyes closed and he tilted his head to the side, sniffing as he got closer to Elle. 

Weakly, she held up a hand to keep the fox from getting too close. 

“You’ve been a busy girl,” His ears twitched, close enough to send a light breeze into Elle’s face. “A demon Prince, huh? You’re certainly popular.” 

“Fuck off.” Elle felt a wave of nausea and wondered if it would be worth fighting. 

How Powerful was Ash’s magic that Tanpopo could smell it? 

The ticket had been in her purse all this time, with Elle ready to use it and head back to the club. Or wherever the Demon sent her running. The thought of any physical activity made her feel woozy. 

The kitsune’s hair suddenly stood on end, his tail puffing up. He shifted to a wide legged stance. Elle took a few stumbling steps backward, before slamming into something solid. 

Wrecks was behind her. His freezing hand felt good against her burning brow. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, before he sighed deeply. 

When she looked back to where Tanpopo had been there was only a puff of smoke. 

“Did you see him?” 

Nodding, Wrecks offered her his scarf. As he wound it around Elle’s neck, the back of his hand brushed her cheeks. 

“You really are burning up.” Wrecks looked over his shoulder at the restaurant, his hand resting on her forehead again. It was a welcome sensation, so she wasn’t going to complain. “If I could drive, I’d take you home myself. And you really don’t want to be swinging around either…” 

He whined to himself, then finally dropped his hand. 

“You don’t want to be around me either,” Elle pushed him away. Or rather, tried to. She put her hands on his chest, but they shook as she tried to put any force behind them. “You’ll get sick too.” 

“Drider, Shepard,” Wrecks put a hand to his chest, seeming to swell with pride. His ears wiggled as he gave the smallest hint of a smile as he tucked the handkerchief away. “We don’t get the flu. You can hack and cough on me all you want, and I’ll just be disgusted. Although if you’re going to vomit again, try to do it next to me rather than directly on me.” ” 

Another wave of dizziness hit Elle, and her knees buckled. Wrecks yelped and managed to grab the back of her coat before she hit the ground. She grunted in protest, trying to steady herself again. Ears ringing, she felt a burning in her thigh.

When she tried to look down, she was scooped up and cradled by Wrecks. 

“I don’t want you driving in this state,” Wrecks said firmly. “What happens if you’re on the road and you pass out? Or you have to puke? Or…” 

“I get it,” Elle leaned against him as the world started to spin. “Just put me somewhere away from the customers until Horac closes up. I’ll hitch a ride home with him.” 

Hopefully, he wouldn’t get sick either. If he had been around the sick girls for three days and not caught something, then surely he wouldn’t in a short truck ride with Elle. Although she didn’t like how her luck could turn sometimes. 

Even if he could, the Boarman seemed to not care. 

“Such a dad…” She found herself grumbling as Wrecks began to move. Even though she knew he was trying to keep her steady, Elle clung tightly to him and tried to not puke as he headed back to the restaurant. 

***

Hushed voices woke her up. Despite being under what felt like layers of fabric, Elle shivered. Pulling the material closer, she started to curl into the fetal position. Even after a short nap, she still felt like crap. At least she’d had the foresight to wipe off her makeup before passing out, although Wrecks had to assist with such a simple action. 

The bell rang, and she started to sit up. She opened her mouth to give the normal greeting, but it was like her lips had been glued together. Tasting blood again, she ran her tongue across them. It felt like sandpaper. She wasn’t sure if it was saliva or something else dribbling down her chin.   

“We’re closed, Shepard, you don’t need to greet the customers.” Wreck’s voice was gentle as a hand pressed to her forehead. It was like a hot iron had touched her skin. 

Elle was amazed there wasn’t a hiss or the stench of burning flesh. Wrenching away, she became even more tangled in the coats covering her and simply flopped to the other side of the couch. 

Wincing apologetically, Wrecks held a cup of water to her mouth. It stung when it touched her chapped lips, and on the way down. She tried to not guzzle, but once the first drop touched her tongue, a wave of relief followed. 

“How’s she looking?” Aki’s voice was faint, followed by footsteps. He came up the loft stairs, hopping on the coffee table and perching behind Wrecks so he could still see her. His ears twitched, tail thrashing as his eyes flicked over Elle, seeming to take in every detail that he could. 

“Still pretty clammy,” Horac was right next to her. “I ran down to the store and got her some cold medicine. She managed to keep it down, but…” His voice trailed off as his nostrils flared, snorting noisily. 

“Just take me home,” Elle groaned, trying to shrug off the pile of clothing on her. “I’ll be okay after I sleep this off.” 

Horac sighed as he offered his hand to Elle. Taking it, she winced at how chilly it felt. The bristles over his skin felt like needles digging into her palm. 

When she stood, the world went sideways. Horac managed to steady her, clamping tightly over her wrists.

Reeling, Elle stumbled as a tingling sensation went up her leg. Despite her best efforts, the floor connecting with the sole of her foot didn’t seem to register. Knees buckling, she knelt on the carpet, resting her cheek against the coffee table. 

Aki’s tail thumped against her fingers as he shifted to kneel next to her. 

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to make it back to your place,” Aki stroked her cheek as he spoke. Perhaps it was the feverish state, but there seemed to be a lot of concern on the Cat Boy’s face as he looked at her. He leaned forward, like he was about to kiss her. 

“What’s on her leg?” Wrecks scrambled to adjust his stance. 

The pins and needles started to spread up Elle’s body. Shifting, she looked down at her skirt. Even with the dark colored tights, she could see a mark curling up her thigh and making its way down her calf. 

Lifting up the fabric, she saw it was starting to wind up her pelvis. It was hard to make out the specific symbols, as they kept swirling and blurring. Something about it seemed familiar… But she couldn’t place it as the flu fog began to creep back over her mind. 

“Tanpopo?” Aki asked, ears pressing flat against his head. Eyes gleaming, his tail thumped noisily against the coffee table. 

“This is a terrible prank, even for him.” Wrecks looked worried, forelegs rubbing together. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes, seemed to realize he’d have to leave if he smoked, and just clung to them. “But these look more like Infernal.” 

“Spinner’s right,” Horac was intentionally keeping his gaze locked on the wall, hands shoved into his apron pocket. “That's Asmodeus’ symbol. It was all over Temptation, I can recognize it at a glance. Although Rookie, I would appreciate it if you put your skirt down.” 

If it was Asmodues’ mark… 

Dropping the skirt, Elle took in a deep breath, fumbling for her phone. Scrolling through her calls, she finally found Ash’s number. After a few missed presses, she felt her stomach flip as it began to dial. Each ring seemed to stretch out further and further, growing louder. 

There was a loud buzzing as the Incubus picked up. For a moment, Elle thought she heard Infernal screaming. Elle flinched from the noise, hands clapping over her ears as she twisted the phone speaker away from them. The device heated up, and for a moment, Elle feared that it would melt or break. 

“I was wondering when you’d finally take the initiative and call first.” Ash’s breathing was labored, like the Incubus had just run a marathon. There was no playfulness or banter in his tone, the smile completely absent from his voice. 

“I think you’re aware of the recent changes to your body,” Ash continued, the strain of leather followed, then a loud crack.

Elle swallowed at the sound, feeling a chill go through her body. Despite the noise and the clear predatory tone to the demon’s voice, she found herself unable to pull away or give him anything less than her undivided attention. 

Setting the phone down, Elle wordlessly pushed the speaker button. 

There was a moment of silence, before another loud crack followed. The phone buzzed, shaking the entire table. 

Wrecks and Aki flinched. Horac mumbled something and rubbed his face, bracing against the wall. 

“Apologies for not reaching out sooner,” Ash had gotten his wind back, and his tone was more level. “but I had to make sure that a certain unruly individual was reminded of his place before being sent back to it.” 

Elle’s breath caught in her throat. Emotions warred, and she clenched her jaw to keep from crying out (even weakly) or to let the questions spill from her lips like a sputtering faucet. 

“Anyway, I know it’s a long trek, but I do have your boyfriend. As I said previously, you must be present for the ritual, even with the Favor given to you. The illness should fade in a day or two, but if you want to sever this tie sooner rather than later, you know where to find me.” 

There was a beep. ‘ Call Ended ’ flashed across the screen. Elle’s phone sparked, a strange power humming from it before the tech finally gave up. 

Dropping it on the coffee table, she stared at the device. The glass had cracked, and smoke was pouring out of the space between the case and phone. 

“Is there any way I can get you to drive me to the Asmodeus district?”

She must have looked pathetic enough, because Horac’s ears drooped. He swayed side to side, looking almost ready to say yes.

“The cafe is closed tomorrow. The bar opens in a few hours.” The Boarman drummed his fingers on his massive forearm. “You’re going to want someone who’s ready for what’s down there.”  

“I’ll drive her then,” Aki picked up Elle’s purse. “It’s not like I’m going to church.” 

“No!” Wrecks and Elle yelled in unison.  

“Horac is clearly the better choice,” Wrecks hissed. “He’s worked out there, been around Ash and Asmodeus, you–” 

“It’s not like you’re going to go,” Aki rolled his eyes at Wrecks, tossing the purse back onto the couch behind Elle. “You’d probably combust once you got to the border.” 

“I am more than capable of handling myself, thank you.” Wrecks crossed his arms and forelegs, all his eyes narrowing. “Frankly, my perceived moral compass is less important than getting Adrian away from Elle.” 

Aki’s fur stood on end, but went flat when Elle put a hand on his arm. Ears drooping, he nodded, giving her fingers a quick squeeze. She could see his jaw clench and had a feeling the car ride was going to be awkward. 

“You guys don’t have to come.” Elle insisted. “If I could drive, I’d do it by myself–” 

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” Wrecks insisted, lacing his fingers together and setting them on top of his forelegs. “I saw what just a projection of him did to you. I can only imagine what it’s going to be like seeing him in person.” 

He smiled. “Besides, Shepard, you’re my friend. This is the kind of thing we do for each other.” 

Aki let go of her hand. “I don’t know who this Adrian guy is, but I know that look all too well. And I know a demon contract when I see it.” He ruffled Elle’s hair and gave a feline grin, “So don’t worry, I’ll do what I can.” 

“First thing’s first.” Wrecks said firmly, managing to tear his eyes away from the display and holding up a finger. “We have to tell Ramses–”

“Better to ask forgiveness than ask permission,” Horac held up his phone and waved it, before heading down the stairs. “Everyone going, pile into the truck. We’ve got a three hour drive and only a bit of time before the moon rises.” 

Pausing, he looked Wrecks up and down. 

“On second thought Spinner, you’re going to want to be in the flatbed.” 

***

The ride was mostly smooth, despite the speedometer’s needle climbing. Horac’s eyes were glued to the road, his grip on the steering wheel making his whole body go taut. 

Pressing her brow to the cool glass, Elle tried to not look at the world whipping past, as too much movement was starting to make her nauseous. 

But when she closed her eyes, the pain in her leg started to flare up. It was a throbbing and a burning that twisted back and forth. What was being done to Adrian that was making his magic act like this? And from so far away? 

Aki was in the back seat, occasionally popping his head forward to look at Elle. After the third time, Horac released his death grip on the steering wheel to snatch the Cat Boy’s wrist. 

“Unless she’s throwing up or I’m at a stop, sit down and wear your seat belt,” Horac gave a warning squeeze, Aki’s hand turning white. 

“But I-” 

“I will turn this truck around,” Horac tossed Aki’s hand back. 

Making an annoyed sound, Aki sat and spready himself across the seats, shoes pressed against the window. Despite his scowl, his ears drooped and his eyes gleamed with worry. His tail thumped against the back window, drawing Wrecks’ attention. 

“ Properly sit down. I don’t want you breaking your legs if I get into a wreck.” 

Wind whipped through the truck as the middle back window squeaked open. Wrecks poked his head in, his spectacles fogging up from the temperature change. 

“How long until we’re there?” 

“We’re getting close to the border,” Horac fiddled with the radio, frowning as the music playing started to devolve into static. “And it looks like we’re going into a high magic place. Everyone hang tight.” 

Glancing in the rear view mirror, Elle saw Wrecks frown. The steam started to dissipate from the lenses, and she could see his eyes glitter with worry. 

He and Aki shared a concerned look, before Wrecks slowly pulled his head back out, leaving the window open just a crack. The whipping of the wind was soothing, and Elle felt herself starting to doze off. 

She saw a flash of a circle. It glowed pink, showing a prostrate figure in the center. Magenta manacles wrapped around ankles and wrists, keeping them kowtowed. Symbols curled up bare skin, fading into crimson. 

Slowly, its head shifted and a watery eye peered out at her. 

Horac’s hand lightly brushed her arm. 

She was back in the truck. Her leg throbbed. Even through her tights, she could see the mark was spreading down her calf and vanishing into her shoes. Everything was pulsing. Windows and the engine rattled, the conversation between Wrecks and Aki warbled, like a car radio with the bass turned up too loud. 

“Rookie,” Horac’s voice cut through the cacophony, his tone gentle, but warning. 

“I know this is a Favor with a capital F, but it’s still going to hurt. You’ll have to have a stand in or vessel for the Princes. It’s not going to be a picnic. I’m sure Spinner and Newbie would help you in a heartbeat… But with just us… -” 

Elle nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open as a fog started to wrap around her mind. If being around Ash was anything to go by, then she was going to have to deal with probably the worst case of the Concubi Lust she’d ever had. Her stomach heaved at the thought. Even if she was completely healthy, it would have put a huge burden on her body and soul.

“When Asmodeus inflicted his Ire upon me, it put me in the hospital right after I got out. I felt my bones and body break apart as I took on the new form, even with all the Healers attending to me after it happened, it took me forever to feel ‘right’ again. This is severing a bond with a Demon, you’ll likely be out of work for a while. And that’s assuming Lover Boy lets go without a fight. There’s going to be a lot of Power flying around the room. You might see a side of everyone you’re not ready to. Being so close to so much…” He looked in the rearview mirror. 

“Even with a level head, you’re going to be Tempted.” 

Swallowing, Elle nodded. The words stuck in her throat. One stupid thing she’d done had followed her for this long. To have it about to finally be gone… She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved, happy, sorrow, or maybe a mix of everything. 

“I’ve done so much to get away from him,” Elle reached for the bottle of water Horac had grabbed for her in the cup holder. Her hands shook as she managed to unscrew it and press it to her lips. When it touched her tongue, her stomach threatened to rebel again. Steeling herself, she swallowed it down. 

“One last bit of pain is worth living in peace.” 

As if on cue, the radio crackled again, smooth jazz playing. A singer purred some sort of melody that Elle couldn’t place. She let the tune guide her into a more relaxed state, but she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be getting any rest until this was all over.  

***

The streets were empty as the truck barreled down them. Power crackled through the air. The radio buzzed, the soft music devolving into static. 

Elle couldn’t help but feel her cheeks burn at the sight of a billboard, advertising Miss Lamb. She was sitting on a throne made of concubi, wearing a few strips of fabric to cover her nipples and groin. Dark marks went up her thigh and abdomen. She leaned back into the throne, head slightly inclined, ready to meet the lips of the man behind her. 

Come find me…  

Behind that was a billboard reading Temptation in call caps. 

“This broadcast is brought to you by Asmodeus, the Prince of Lust, the Oldest Sin, the-” 

With clumsy fingers, Horac turned the volume all the way down. A few sputtering sounds warbled from the speaker, before finally dying out. It hummed softly, the tuning needle moving back and forth, as if trying to find it again. 

“It’s a lot more tame than I thought,” Aki commented as he shifted in the back seat, neck swiveling to follow another advertisement for the club. He looked almost disappointed at the lack of... Whatever he was expecting. Pressing against the window, he squinted and tilted his head to the side. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“What, were you expecting an orgy at the border just continuing until the other end?” Horac asked, not taking his eyes off the road. There was an edge to his voice as he looked around, head on a swivel. 

For a moment, Elle thought the steering wheel would warp under his grip. 

Aki pointedly gestured to the passing billboards with a raised brow. 

“I think you’re old enough to not believe everything you see on ads.” 

“You’d think that there would be… Anyone in the streets.” Wrecks commented, poking his head in the back window. “Was it like this the last time you were here?” 

Elle wordlessly shook her head as Horac’s shoulders started to raise. His whole body was rigid as they focused on the road ahead, the speedometer dipping lower as the vehicle slowed to a crawl. 

As they pulled up to “Temptation”, Elle felt a hot flash go through her. Rather than feeling arousal, her stomach flipped. With shaking hands, she took another swig from the water bottle. 

It was strange seeing the club without all the lights and people in front. The zeppelin still flew around in a slow circle. As it moved, there was a crackle of Power coming from the top of the stadium. Quite a few bouncers were at the entrance, their faces impossible to read. Occasionally, a person came up to talk, but they were ignored or shooed off. 

There was a change in the air, and Elle’s purse suddenly felt a lot heavier. 

Opening it, she saw the ticket that Ash had originally given her. Months of wear and tear had rendered it almost unrecognizable. It was thrumming with energy. The outline of the Incubus’ lips had gone from pink to red with black lines. As it smoldered, she took it out of the purse. 

Pins and needles went up her arm. The windows began to fog up as heat started to circulate in the car. 

Come find me, at Temptation… 

“I think we just need to go in the front this time.”  

Once she opened the car door, the air became heavy. Shuffling out, Elle leaned against the flatbed. She held the hood of her coat tightly closed with one hand, the battered ticket with the other. The paper crumpled in her grip, more spikes of power began to pulse out. 

Taking a few shaky steps forward, Elle could feel the weight of the energy of the air start to increase as she began to get closer to the threshold. Something was different about it. Pink sparked through the air, and the scent of mint and lavender fluttered around her. 

Taking a deep inhale, Elle closed her eyes and let it wash over her. 

A large rippling orc came over without a word, his tight black shirt about ready to rip with inhale. He didn’t even take the ticket, just stepped aside for Elle, but held up a hand as the rest of the group started to follow. 

“They’re my friends,” Elle said firmly, although the world continued to tilt and spin as she spoke. Her voice was no doubt all over the place, wavering and weak despite her attempted resolve. “They’re coming too.” 

A cobalt skinned demon slunk forward, a tapered tail whipping back and forth with an audible crack. 

“This ticket is only good for one,” The demon said, his voice slick like oil. “You were the only person needed to be present for the ritual.” 

“She can barely stand on her own!” Aki protested, standing next to Elle. His warmth against her made her skin itch, like all the moisture had been sucked from it, if he pushed too hard, she’d crack open into a husk. “You think she’s going to be able to perform any sort of magic in this state?” 

“The rules–”

“With all due respect,” Wrecks was towering over them. The windblown hair fell down in a shaggy mane, the lenses of his spectacles gleaming in the streetlights. If Elle had only known him at a glance, it would have been downright intimidating.

“It’s often a group that needs to perform a ritual, right? Especially if the other Princes aren’t present?” 

The Orc sized Wrecks up, before something buzzed on his belt. Pulling a walkie talkie free, he held it up as Infernal crackled through the device. Judging by his reaction, whoever was speaking was scolding him. 

With an irritated sigh, he rumbled something back, before nodding apologetically. 

The velvet rope was lifted, and they walked inside.

Even though it was the same building as before, the cement halls seemed cold and empty. The outside air stirred the posters and flyers on the billboards, but their colors were dull and faded compared to what they had been the night she first visited. There was no music or murmur of conversation, just the sounds of footsteps echoing. 

 Elle’s breath came out in a fog. The hum of power grew louder as they were led to the party room. The demon and orc stopped at a pair of double doors. Pink flashed under them, followed by rattling as an infernal screech reverberated off the wood. The ticket ignited, cotton candy colored wisps covering the arches. 

As runes and symbols lit up, a blush colored film covered the doors as they creaked open. The barrier stayed in place, the mark of Asmodeus forming. 

What had gotten her into this mess in the first place. If only she’d studied harder… 

Swallowing, Elle took another step forward. The Power reached for her, calling out. Begging her to take it. Make it hers. Become the warlock she was always meant to be. 

No, she needed to stay in control.

Focus. 

Reaching toward the rune, she lightly touched her finger to it. Smoke curled under the tip, her vision blurring as she blinked back tears. The symbol wound its way around her wrist and arm, linking with the other half on her leg. She watched the marks spread across her skin. 

Bound with blood, not power. 

Passing through the barrier was like wading through jello. Each step was slow, and sapping more strength from Elle. It felt like she’d walked up a mountain just to go through the doorway. 

Inside, a pink circle had been drawn. Spotlights were focused on the figure in the middle, chained tight to the floor. The restraints had few links, offering no slack to the bound one. 

Ash stood over him. His horns were longer, tapering to a point. The flaming crown that had nestled between them had grown in size. The markings covering his body were bright, power coursing through him. Eyes flashed with hunger as he looked at Elle, lips pulled back to show his fangs. 

He was bare chested, but wore a floor length fur coat and leather pants. 

“So good of you to join,” As he spoke, a ring of pink pulsed from his iris, rippling to the edge of his eye. “Here I thought he’d give out before then.” 

“Elodie…” A pitiful voice whimpered. It wavered too much, no power in the word. Fingers weakly grasped the open air. Shaking arms tried to move, but the restraints dug in. 

Adrian Ashborn laid sprawled out on the floor, bruises mottling his skin. Blood dripped from his brow, where one of his flesh colored horns had been broken off. Fresh cuts and wounds tore open further as he tried to break free, not even rattling the chains. Even in his bound state, with movements restrained to almost immobility, he jerked and pulled. 

Despite everything, Elle almost ran to him. 

His eyes locked with hers, and she stopped, a chill up her spine freezing her in place. Goosebumps covered her skin as memories warred. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Laughter and sighs turning into screams and arguing. Her stomach flipped as she clenched her fists. 

“Good thing you stopped where you did,” Ash stood in front of her, his body blocking the mangled sight. He was holding a knife, not unlike the one she’d used to channel so long ago.

The pink marks on his skin were red at the edges, the heat starting to burn the Incubus. If he felt pain, Ash was good at hiding it. 

“I think you of all people know what happens when a circle breaks.” 

He looked back at Adrian. There was no laughter or warmth in his eyes. Just pure… Loathing. Elle took a step back as Adrian’s thumb went up the knife’s handle. 

“Come on Ash, enough with the theatrics.” Horac came between Elle and the incubus. Even thought he was trying to look relaxed, his shoulders were still raised, his hand turned to Elle, ready to push her back at a moment’s notice. 

“At this rate you’ll kill her before you can do anything.” 

Ash’s eyes flicked to Adrian, before he sighed and shrugged. An exhausted laugh escaped him, and he ran his free hand down his face. 

“You’re lucky to have escaped my Ire once, don’t test me further.” 

Aki’s ears were flat against his head as he clutched Elle’s hand tight. Fur standing on end, he did his best to avoid making eye contact as Ash began to move around the circle, drawing out symbols with his boot and the tip of the knife. 

“I will admit, I was worried that you were gone for good,” Ash admitted. “Or that you were going to leave me with the biggest set of blue balls regarding this whole thing. But I’m glad I was able to tempt you back.” 

As he crossed the circle, Ash knelt next to Adrian, seizing him by the hair and forcing him to look up at Elle. The handsome face twisted with pain, showing broken teeth. Tears streamed out of one eye, the other too swollen shut to do much. 

“You might think me cruel,” He said, although Elle wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Adrian. “But this is what was asked of me. The weaker he is, the easier it is to break the bond.” 

Wrecks flinched away from the sight, rubbing his arms. His foreleg rested on Elle’s shoulder as he stayed between her and Ash as the incubus crossed to the other side, drawing another rune. 

“What if you had killed me?” Elle asked, feeling her blood run cold. 

“You think I’m that sloppy?” Ash shook his head. “Have some faith in me, Miss Shepard.” He drew the last symbol, before beckoning. 

Cadence floated down from the rafters, grey feathers littering the ground around him. He gave Elle a sad smile, before snapping to attention when Ash came close. 

“A circle to contain,” Ash held up one finger, the rest awkwardly wrapped around the knife. After a few one handed grip changes, he managed to lift another. 

“And a circle to do the ritual in. You think that will be enough, Miss Shepard?” He gestured to the full moon above. “The amount of energy needed will be more than provided.” 

Reluctantly, Elle nodded. Adrian moaned in pain again, trying to pull himself free. A discordant scream escaped him when Ash put a boot between his shoulders and pressed down. It didn’t take much effort, and he didn’t seem to be pushing hard, but the scream was one of pure agony. 

“Adrian Ashborn, you escaped me once. Bound by blood, your master has decided to end your bond. A Favor she has earned, and it will be repaid.” 

The knife clattered at Elle’s feet. She reached down and picked it up. The symbols twisting around her hand glowed with power. 

Cadence began to move across the ground with chalk to draw the outer circle. Once it closed, all the magic wouldn’t be able to escape until it was broken again. 

“We need seven for each Demon Prince,” Elle said softly, the memories of her school days coming back. She pointed to the area furthest from her, behind Ash. 

“Belphegor goes back there.” 

“Figures Prince of Sloth is furthest away,” Aki grumbled as he walked over without being told. The symbol glowed under him.  

“Why Belphegor?” Elle asked. 

“Lazy demon, lazy cat.” Aki’s ears twitched. “He speaks to me.” He gave a toothy grin and a thumbs up, tail swishing with excitement. “Told ya we would make a good pair as a witch and her black cat.” 

Elle couldn’t look at him, her cheeks burning. 

“Leviathan should be right next to you.” Elle pointed to the right, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Getting a good view of the caster but not close enough to do anything.” 

There were light steps. 

Wrecks stood on the symbol, looking down as power thrummed. He seemed intrigued, but stayed quiet, offering Elle a thumbs up with a raised brow, which she nodded at. 

“Satan is to the left.” 

“Strongest will probably need someone who can take a beating.” Horac went to the rune, not even flinching as the power whipped at his feet. 

“I suppose yours truly will have to stand on Asmodeus?” Ash preened as he spoke, not taking his foot off Adrian’s back. 

Elle shot him a look. “No, I’d rather you not. You being his right hand…” Her voice trailed off as she looked to Cadence, who was scribbling another line on the floor.

But Asmodeus had been the one who she’d struck a deal with to do this favor…  

Ash pouted, his old self coming through in the expression. His lips pursing looked perfectly kissable, the tip of his tongue peeking out, offering other activities it could be useful–

He was getting to her. 

Elle looked down at her feet, staring at the glowing mark. When she stepped next to it, the power vibrated through the air as the two energies warred. 

“You’ll be Beelzebub. If Temptation is anything, it’s excess…” She looked at Cadence, who looked like he was almost finished. The Siren paused in his drawing, giving Elle a reassuring smile. 

The tension in the air was starting to get worse. 

“Cadence can be Asmodeus, since he performs here. I’ll be Mammon since I was so–” 

“Greedy?” 

The voice made her whirl around. 

Ramses was at the doorway, not even phased by the threshold. The glowing from his chest was even brighter in the dark night. The orc and demon at the door didn’t even try to stop him. 

The ichor dripping off him formed puddles on the floor. His cheeks were flushed, breathing labored as he locked eyes with Elle. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” She nearly dropped the knife in disbelief. Sure, she’d expected he’d come after getting the message, but to be so hot on their heels? 

He walked up to her, holding up a hand. For a moment, it looked like he was going to cup her cheek, but he stared at the mess forming around him and dropped it. 

“I got the message and decided to… Get here.” His eyes darted around the room as he took everything in, before he scowled at Ash. “Do you think I’d stay away from something like this?” 

It did look like he’d just rolled out of bed. His hair was a mess, his glasses askew, and his clothes still wrinkled despite the no doubt expensive fabric they were likely made of. Maybe if Elle got a good whiff of his breath, she’d get the halitosis smell. 

“Well, had I known you were going to show up, I would have called everyone else.” Ash crossed his arms. “What brings you here?” 

“A Favor,” Ramses replied nonchalantly, before stepping past Cadence, who paused at the last part of the circle. 

“Once he closes it…” Ash warned, his voice trailing off as he glowered at Adrian squirming. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he shook with repressed rage, muscles going taut as he prepared to kick Adrian Adrian again.  

“I know,” Ramses offered no room for argument. “You still need a Lucifer. And I… Take Pride in taking care of my employees.” 

He smiled at his own words, and Ash groaned and scoffed. The incubus rolled his eyes, before looking at Elle expectantly. 

“You sure?”

Nodding, Elle tried to keep from grinning ear to ear. She wasn’t sure about Ramses’ skill with magic, but there was no doubt Power coming off him and thrumming in the air. 

There was a snap as Cadence closed the circle. Pink light danced above them as energy began to run along the edges of the circle, attempting to escape. Ash stood on Elle’s right, and Ramses on her left. 

Everyone stepped on their respective symbols. The channeling knife grew hot in Elle’s hands, the runes lighting up as the magic in the air was drawn to it. 

“Adrian Ashborn,” Ash said, his voice barely audible over the Power roaring in Elle’s ears. Wind whipped through the air, stirring his hair and causing it to cling to his lips. “Through blood you are bound, and through blood you are released. A being of Asmodeus, you are to be thrown into his circle until your soul is cleansed.” 

The air grew unbearably hot. Sweat trickled down Elle’s brow and upper lip, and her clothes felt tight. The material was like a scouring pad against her skin, and she could see chafing between the gaps in the fabric. Standing with her legs apart, she extended her arms outward toward the inner circle. 

Once the tip of the knife touched the edge, energy began to spiral around the blade. It corkscrewed into Adrian’s binding, which began to glow red with heat. He screamed, the marks spreading across his body, going from flesh to even teeth and the whites of his eyes.

“Through Lust you gain strength, through release you gain power. Now through Lust you grow weak, and through release you gain impotence.” Ash continued, his eyes darkening. “Reverse your nature, and break this contract.” 

He whipped his head toward Elle. 

“Be ready.” 

An instant later, pain became the world. The burn on her thigh became an insatiable white hot inferno. Energy sliced at her, the fragments shattering and becoming shrapnel. Gripping the knife tight, she thrust it forward into the blinding light, sparks and flashes filling her vision. 

Then, the screaming started. 

Not from Adrian, but from Aki. 

The Cat Boy was on all fours, pink embers clinging to his fur as the symbols began to twist up his body. He slapped an open hand against the ground, burying his face into the crook of his elbow as it began to spread further. A few tears sizzled as they hit the ground. 

Tail tucked between his legs, he clawed at the ground and tore up chunks of wood, but managed to not break the circle. 

Wrecks tried to hold out, but the black symbol of Arachne glowed as the runes of Asmodeus began to overtake it. Smoke curled up past his face and he finally let out a cry of agony, venom dribbling down his chin as he body prepared to fight off a foe that wasn’t visible.  

Wait… Why were they being harmed? This was only supposed to affect Adrian… 

Wrecks’ eyes bulged and his legs gave out. He hit the ground hard, but managed to keep from breaking the inner circle. Hands shaking, he looked at Elle with an apologetic expression, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Cadence clutched his chest and throat, his mouth opening in a silent scream as choked gasps escaped. Feathers rapidly molted off his body, catching on fire as the energy came into contact with them. As more skin became exposed, she could see raised skin, pink with scarring against his olive and grey complexion. This likely wasn’t his first time being used as a Caster for such a ritual. 

He looked at Elle with watery eyes, then offered a shaky smile. 

“I’m fine, I promise.” 

The air around them shimmered and grew blurry.  

And for a split second, Cadence was standing upright, looking like he hadn’t just had a horrific amount of body twisting pain inflicted upon him. 

But the image became fuzzy, his hunched over form coming back into focus. 

Ramses’ arms sizzled with heat, the ichor bubbling and hitting the ground with a wet splat. Energy wrapped around him, but didn’t sink into his skin like it had everyone else. Closing one eye, he raised his hands. Cracks formed in his skin, the glow from his chest spreading. 

The black scales grew thick, starting to spread over his face. Gritting his teeth, the demon closed his fists, seizing the energy from the air. 

“That’s enough!” He snapped, clutching the magic tighter. Black continued to creep up his arms, flaking away when the heat from his chest flared up. “You’re going to kill everyone.” 

“The bond is deep,” Ash said, his tone flat. Although there was a hint of a smile as he watched Ramses struggle. “Through Lust indeed...” 

He stared at the marks as they twisted around his arm, constantly curling and uncurling. “It takes a lot to break it. The pain you’re feeling is nothing compared to what he is.” He nodded toward Adrian, who had finally quieted. “Once this is over, it will subside.” 

Gritting his teeth, Ramses reluctantly released the energy. It whipped through the air and struck Adrian. He slowly lifted his head, eyes flashing. 

“Can you keep it from hurting them?” Elle asked, feeling the pain start to ebb. Clutching the knife, she blinked back tears and took in a shaky breath. “They’re just trying to help. I know you can stop this.”

“They came into this with a warning.” Ash shrugged, reaching toward Elle. His nails lengthened as he got closer, the tips barely brushing against her arm. Goosebumps followed where they traced. 

The world began to slip away until only the circle and energy remained. 

“And you insisted. You’re connected to them through Lust…” Ash’s eyes were so deep, drawing her into their never ending abyss. She felt so light, like she was about to start flying. The energy started to flow through her, and she could feel more just past his lips. He could unlock so much Power… 

“But if you want to be the vessel of their pain, and the weakness–”  

“Elle,” Ramses warned, his hand on her shoulder. Black smeared on her shirt, dripping onto her bicep and elbow. “You don’t want to do that. Favors and Ire take a lot of us. Once this is over, he’s going to be weak and vulnerable. Remember he’s still a Demon, even if he’s doing you a ‘kindness’.”

There was a feral roar. It pierced through the air and found its way into Elle’s ears. A metallic snap followed. 

Whirling around back toward the circle, Elle saw Adrian was standing, his arms shaking. The chains hung loosely off his wrist, his whole body glowing pink. 

“Get away from her!” The voice sliced through the air. Adrian took an uncertain step forward, his knee giving out. Dropping to one knee, he glared at Elle and bore his teeth. Grabbing onto the links, he tore them off, breaking the cuff in the process. 

“I thought you said it was supposed to weaken him !” Elle took a step back, before feeling the energy of the outside circle vibrate behind her. The sensation brought her back completely, and the world became tinged with pink, Adrian growing brighter than ever, strands braiding them together. 

Shit . She couldn’t break the circle. 

“Elodie!” His voice was still shaky. “Please. I know I messed up. But don’t do this!” He slapped the barrier sprung up from the inner circle. Pink rippled from the impact. Tears streamed down his face, sparkling as they fell and hit the floor. 

“I’ll change. We can leave this all behind. Start over somewhere.” As he spoke, the energy wrapped around them both, twisting into a thick rope that wrapped around Elle’s thigh and Adrian’s waist. 

“You don’t have to work again. I’ll make sure of it. I know you’re on your feet all day and come home exhausted. I know you live in that crappy apartment and still drive that shitty car. I’ll get a job and do what I can to be a good patron this time.” He continued to beat on the barrier as he spoke, his voice distorting at each impact. 

“That’s what we were doing before! I’ll get you better clothes and we’ll have a nice place. I’ll treat you right. It’s not just Lust tying us together, it’s love!”  

Tears streamed down his face. For a heartbeat, Elle believed him. 

“I’m sorry, Adrian.” Elle shook her head. “But we’re not right for each other.” 

The glow turned into fire. It became so bright and hot that the incubus’ features melted away to make way for the light, leaving only his silhouette as proof he was still there. Adrian seized the magic, and air rushed out of Elle’s lungs. Light and dark warred as her vision started to go black. 

“Break the bond!” Ash yelled, his voice sounding like it was coming from the opposite end of the room. 

Clutching the knife tight, Elle stabbed downward at the rope connecting them. Sparks flew, each stab punctuated by a scream. Adrian’s begging and crying became screams of pain and anger, his beating on the barrier becoming more desperate. 

“He’s just trying to break us up to have you for himself!” Adrian cried out. “You can’t trust him, Elodie!” His voice warbled as he attempted to use her Name. 

Sawing at the energy, she saw white with each connection, pain searing up her hand and arm. Clenching her teeth, she put her weight into it, dropping to the ground. There was a loud buzz, and the knife shot from her hands, striking the barrier and slicing her fingers. 

Everything went silent, the light slowly fading. The knife clattered to the floor, sparks flying. It slowly skittered to a stop, glowing with heat. 

Rubbing her eyes, Elle waited for the throbbing to fade. Slowly, her eyes began to adjust as colors returned to normal. 

Adrian laid on the ground in a crumpled heap. After what felt like an eternity, his chest rose and fell, the wheeze that followed barely counting as a breath. 

The circles were burned into the cement floor, soot obscuring the symbols. 

Aki coughed, trying to rise to a crouch, before falling over. Horac helped him sit up, and the Cat Boy leaned against him. Taking deep breaths, he rubbed his arms and legs, as if trying to peel the markings off. They faded, and he sighed in relief. 

Wrecks’ legs were curled inward, and took a moment (and some light tugging) from Horac to straighten out. He sighed in relief, massaging each limb with practiced movements. His spectacles had fallen off during the ritual, and the lenses were cracked. Frowning, he slowly put them back on with shaking hands. 

Cadence sat up, arms wrapped around himself. His talons scraped at exposed skin, drawing out drops of crimson, but he seemed to not notice. He looked toward Ash, then back at Elle. 

Ramses put a hand to his chest, as if checking his heart rate. 

“The Bond is broken,” Ash casually stepped over the circle. It fizzled as the last remnants of energy ran their course. Not a hair was out of place or a single wrinkle in his clothing, but his footing seemed uncertain, his normal gait suddenly reeling. As he spoke, the markings covering his body began to retract and fade away. 

The glow that seemed to cover his skin was faded, his complexion and features looking… Less ethereal. 

Ash turned to the door. There was still a bit of Power and Energy clinging to it, creating a weak barrier. 

“The Favor has been repaid,” Ash called out, his voice reaching who he wanted to be heard by, no matter the distance. “I know my guests have a long drive back, so be sure to set up accommodation–” 

Adrian lurched forward, snatching the still glowing knife off the ground. Ash barely had lifted his foot up before the blade was buried up to the handle in his abdomen. He stared down at it in shock, fingers wrapping around the hilt. 

“Ash!” Elle shouted, heart jumping into her throat.  

“Well, call me Lucifer,” Ash croaked, staggering back, eyes wide.

Cadence jumped up, but his legs gave out again.  

Adrian turned to Elle, the Hunger in his eyes sending a wave over her. His whole body went rigid, ready to pounce and start chasing. The predatory glint was back. A black tongue flitted across his lips, and his teeth seemed to lengthen as saliva dripped down his lips. 

Stepping back, Elle tried to keep from falling over in her haste. 

Horac barreled over, slamming his shoulder into Adrian and sending him flying. The incubus landed on the floor, sliding back. After a few feet, he stopped. Glaring at Horac, he snarled and started to get back up. 

Standing between them, Horac squared his shoulders and drew himself up to his full height, hands clenched into fists. 

“What’s more important to you, the life of a Demon Prince or the safety of some warlock who got in over her head?” Adrian spat, taking a few wide strides toward Horac. He tried to look at Elle, but couldn’t change his path without Horac shifting to block it.  

“The bond is broken, you’re not her patron anymore.” Horac’s voice was eerily calm, but his head turned ever so slightly to Ash, who was using his coat to attempt to stop the bleeding. One hand went to the scar on his abdomen.

“Leave now and you might be able to hide for a bit before the Guardians get here. This is over . Don’t push your luck and get his Ire inflicted on you too. Just cooperate with the guard–”  

“I’m not leaving without Elodie!” Adrian snarled. “We’re bound by blood, and I will be here until every last drop is drained from her!” 

Running forward, the Incubus rammed right into Horac’s stomach, striking the palm of his heel into the scar from the Succubus. Horac’s face twisted in pain, and he dropped to one knee. With labored breaths, he attempted to grab and restrain Adrian, but his hands closed on the empty air. 

Adrian closed the distance between him and Elle so quickly. She tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t obey. 

“Adri-” Her voice shook. She sucked in a breath, trying to keep her heart from battering against her ribs and throat. “Adrian Ashborn!” 

The Name rang hollow. The Incubus hesitated and flinched, preparing for the binding. But when it didn’t come, he continued to make his way toward her. 

A twisted and rough hand reached for Elle, shimmering like quartz in the moonlight. Beautiful and magical, but would only do harm when it touched her. 

Then it was covered by an inky black substance as it collided with something solid. A wet smack echoed in the open air. Adrian’s eyes widened as the fluid began to spread up his arm. 

Ramses’ hand wrapped around Adrian’s fist. Baring his teeth, he shifted his stance so he could have more solid footing. 

“If you touch my employee, I will make what Asmodeus did to you seem like Hellspawn’s first day in the ring.” Ramses’ eyes narrowed, his glasses sliding down his nose and falling to the ground. The scaling continued to spread across his skin, along with the strange glowing cracks. “This is done .” 

The last word was tinged with an Infernal accent.

Adrian yanked his hand back, before swinging at Ramses’ head. The fist met horn and more cracks spread across Ramses’ face. 

Glass broke as Adrian shoved Ramses back. Ramses only took a step before righting himself. The two shoved one another back, before Adrian slipped on the sludge coming from Ramses. It crusted and flaked away like dried mud. 

“ Mammon ,” Ash gurgled, eyes flashing pink as he used the Name. “ Prince of Greed. Stop him.” 

Sighing, Ramses shook his head. His hair fell around him in a curtain, the ribbon fluttering to the ground.  

“Elle.” His voice was soft, despite him grunting with effort as he tried to hold Adrian in place. He forced a smile, despite everything going on around them. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Adrian’s fingers twisted in Ramses’ shirt, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to Feed. 

Ramses’ remaining skin flaked away, the heat returning to the area. Condensation and steam filled the air. A few slipped and stumbled at the sudden climate change, a thick fog filling the stadium. 

Seizing Adrian’s arms, Ramses threw his head back and roared. His mouth turned into a maw, his body contorting and expanding. His nails grew and tapered to a point, becoming talons. The scales became thick and covered his entire body. 

His neck lengthened, and the cracks in his skin sparked and glowed with heat. A pair of wings unfurled from his shoulders, long and with a translucent black membrane between bones like a bat. With a loud tear, his clothing was shredded as a tail grew from his spine, long and thick, not unlike a snake. 

Adrian’s eyes widened as he stared in disbelief. 

“Adrian Ashborn,” the voice of the Mammon rumbled. “From Ash you were born, and to ash you shall return.” Black flames erupted from his mouth. Black and pink mingled, before smoke and fog clouded Elle’s vision and the area. 

Mammon’s tail thrashed, and he let out another roar that shook the stadium, stomping on the ground as his wings flapped, buffeting them all with the wind. 

Red eyes focused on Elle. 

Before she could say anything, the tail wrapped around her waist. 

And they were both rising. 

(You can read the next part here!)

[newleaf92]

Favorite Lines from Hazbin Hotel songs Part Two:

Poison—this song broke my heart as Angel Dust is one of my favorites, and seeing what he had to deal with from Val was devastating.

“I shoulda known it when I looked into your red hot eyes.”

“Addicted to this feelin’ I can’t help but swallow up your poison.”

“I got so good at tellin’ you what you wanna hear.”

“Poison, I'm drownin' in poison. I'm fillin' up my glass but it's always hollow full of poison, I'm sick of the poison. Wish I had somethin' to live for tomorrow.”

Loser, Baby

“You’ve lost your way. You think your life is wrecked. Well, let me just say you’re correct.”

“You’re a fucked up little whiny bitch. You’re a loser just like me.”

“You’re a power bottom at rock bottom, but you got company.”

“I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak.”

“And you think that makes you unique.”

“Baby that’s fine by me.”

“I’m a loser, honey. A schmoozer and a dummy. But at least I know I’m not alone.”

“It’s time to lose your self loathing. Excuse yourself, let hope in,baby. Play your card, be who you are.”

Hell’s Greatest Dad

“Looks like you could some help from the big boss (😈)of Hell himself.”

“With a punch from a pentagram.”

“I’ll rig the game for you because I’m the ref(😈)

“Champagne fountains, caviar mountains. That’s just a start.”

“I’m your guy, your day to day, your chum, your steadfast hotelier.”

“I’m truly honored that we built such a bond.”

“It’s a little funny. You could almost call me dad (👹😈)

(😡👿🎻)

“There’s no substitute for pure angelic power! Who just so happens to also be your blood.”

“Can you butt out of my song? (Your song?! I started this!”)

More Than Anything

“Now you’re the only thing worth fighting for.”

“I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.”

“So in the end, it’s the view I had of you that showed me dreams can be worth fighting for.”

“I’ve been dying to find out who you are.”

“All that I’m hop in’, now that my eyes are open, is that we can start again. Not be pulled apart again.”

“Cause in the end, you are part of who I am. I’ll support your dreams no matter what’s in store.”

“I’m grateful your my daughter/father.”

Welcome to Heaven

“Welcome to Heaven, oh-oh!” (🎤🫦)

“Where the virtuous reside 24/7, oh-oh!” (🎤🫦)

“Welcome to Heaven, oh-oh!” (🎤🫦)

“Check out our sick decor, the spirit’s leaven, oh!” (🎤😏🫦)

“And everyone is hot!” (🎤🫦🤤🫠)

You Didn’t Know

“Checked all the boxes that you said would prove a person deserves a second chance. Now we turn our backs, no second glance.”

“It’s not fair, Sera.”

“That just because someone is dead, it doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways. Turn the page, escape infernal blaze.”

“What are we even talking about? Some crack whore who fucked up already?”

“There’s no question to be posed. He’s unholy, case closed.”

“A man only lives once. I’ll see you in one month. Gotta say I wait can’t to come down and exterminate you.”

“Well, I don’t need your condescension. I’m not a child to protect!”

“Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you’re purveying?”

“That’s what the fuck I’ve been saying.”

“If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie.”

“When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again.”

Out for Love

“I see you’re driven by your detestation.”

“You need a different type of motivation.”

“Think of who you care about. Protect them and be out for love.”

“Fuel yourself with the fear of losin’ that somebody who’s your reason to live. Harness your heart and you can’t help choosin’ to fight with all you can give.”

Ready for This

“And though I kinda feel unsteady, now I gotta be ready for this.”

“Not to mention the camaraderie. Yes sure, you’ll form life-changing friendships with folks along the way.”

“Oh, don’t be put off by their snarlin’, that’s enthusiasm, darlin’!”

“Don’t worry, honey, that’s their thing. Keep singing.”

“When Adam brings the battle here, I must appear like I’m ready for this.”

“Surprised? Why, I knew she could do it all along.”

“Stick with her and you’ll be on the winning side.”

More than Anything-Reprise

“And in the end, if it’s only me you saved, there’s something I’ve been dying to say.”

“Need you to know I love you more than anything.”

Finale

“I know I could have done better, better than letting you down.”

“You can do this, now I know it! For your story has just begun.”

“The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone, but, by god, Charlie! The show it must go on.”

“With more sinners than you can dream.”

“It starts with you. You know it’s true. Fulfill your destiny!”

“With a bit of bravado, maybe tomorrow, we’ll be atop the heap.”

“Nature abhors a power vacuum. It leaves room for you and me. The power of hell belongs to the Vees.”

“I’m hungry for freedom, like never before!”

“Once I figure out how to unclip my wings, guess who will be pulling all the strings?”

“And then tomorrow, it will be a fuckin’ happy day in Hell!”

[dk-thrive]

There are days When nothing is beautiful. The sun is too bright. The world is too loud, And even the stars refuse to shine. And I, myself, am just a wretched wreck, Sewn together by lost loves And thinning strings of hope. There is no beauty in that.

— Christie L. Starkweather (FB, October 29, 2023)

[neciebee]

I’m so glad you’ve returned! I was afraid you’d gotten lost in a snow drift and we wouldn’t see you again until you thawed in the spring!

I love the “do it for the drama!” approach to life.

I don’t have a fic related choice for you today, but just for fun let’s have another little F/M/K. You can pick one of these trios, or do as many as you want -

F/M/K: the bat boys (I know it’s basic)

F/M/K: the Archeron sisters (sooo basic)

F/M/K: The Vanserras (Lucien, Eris, Beron)

F/M/K: Villains (Amarantha, King of Hybern, Koschei)

F/M/K: Monsters (Bryaxis, Lanthys, the Bone Carver)

That’s all today! Be back soon for more writing advice

-🧑🏻‍🎄

You run the best games!!! I don't mind engaging in the basics. We all need a foundation to build upon.

F/M/K

Azriel/Cassian/Rhys

Nesta/Elain/Feyre

Eris/Lucien/Beron

Amarantha/Koschei/Hyburn

Fuck all the monsters. Like, why choose? Though if I had to marry one it would be Lanthys.

Am I basic? Sometimes, perhaps. But I know what I like and what I like needs no excuses. Give me fairies and monsters and monster fucking dicks wrecking monster fucking holes. I am but a consumer in this wretched world. Give me the grime. Make it wrong, and then make it worse.

[morgana-ren]

Gross boy incel Tomura is 🔥🔥

Oh God, you are so right.

No matter how old I get, how much time passes, whatever else have you, I am still utterly obsessed with that angry lil' freak of nature.

I love all of my hyperfixations, but Tomura was the true first. The one that sparked this whole shitty blog and my shitty writing and all of it. There's just something about him that gets me.

He's a fucking wreck. That's what it is.

He's a hate-filled, angry, vicious, snapping little mongrel. He curses the world around him to the point of aspiring to burn it down. He sits in a dark room all day, plotting and dreaming and escaping. The world looks at him with disgust and he looks back in equal measure, apathetic to the judgement he receives because the world is a filthy, wretched place and like a damn its judgement means fucking anything. He never learned to deal with his grievances and so they seep from him and infect everything he touches. Deep down, he is in excruciating pain and grief becomes anger becomes violence.

I think I could never truly leave Tomura because I get him. I understand it. I don't wanna change him and make him a fucking hero or clean him up or make him more palatable. I want him: The hateful, venom-spitting little arsonist who wants to watch it all burn. I wanna close the blackout curtains when the sun rises with him. I wanna sit in a wretched little room and eat dollar store ramen. I wanna spend too much time playing video games and talking about what we'd do if we had the power to enact actual change.

.......Or maybe I just wanna live on my knees for him and I don't have to make it all fuckin' deep and wannabe philosophical lmao. I love this little man so m u c h.

Been a while but I'm sure I've got some ideas tucked back and away somewhere for him lmao

[thirteen-hundred-secrets]

heart of gold

the bloodied mess of my mind

winds its snaking way down to my heart

corrupting the purest gold

in an ironic reverse alchemy

the luster and shine

cracks into

ivy-wrecked granite

changed by heat

time

& pressure

am I poisoned

pining

or preserved

by my stone prison?

i am

enriched by an intricate rose

tucked behind my ear

just to the left of my heart

to beautify

the shards of prose

upon which my ivy grows

in wretched longing

to perhaps crack the shell.

[wellpresseddaisy]

That Moment of Reckoning pt 1

Where My Soul Revive is the end of a new AU series, That Moment of Reckoning is the beginning. Because I am incapable of not starting yet another project and also have wanted to do a Scarlet Pimpernel (the musical) themed series for a Very Long Time. Series is probably going to be called Into the Fire because I am predictable and that song is a banger.

The first part was shared as a What If? snippet a few months ago and has been brewing in my brain since.

The title is a line from The Riddle, a truly wonderful song about betrayal and making your way through a dangerous and uncertain world.

He’d never expected to see Severus on his knees in the drawing room. Imagined in some of his more perverted moments (described to Narcissa in the dark of her boudoir, while on his own knees before her) but his imaginings had included quite a bit less weeping.

And certainly not that amount of…mucus.

The fevered excretions of his brain had very much not included himself kneeling with Severus, desperately trying to calm the younger man. At least he’d stopped prostrating himself on the floor. That sort of thing was all well and good in the boudoir, but thoroughly unseemly in the drawing room in the middle of the afternoon. Not that anyone could tell it was even afternoon with the gale outside, beating snow against the windows with every rattling breath. Was there any time in the year so wretched as late January?

“Severus, Severus please tell me what is the matter.” He cradled the back of Severus’ head and rocked as he would with Draco.

Severus wept in response. “I can’t…I can’t,” he gasped.

“You most certainly will, my lad,” he injected what he hoped was just enough menace into his tone. “Or you shall dearly regret it.”

It had always worked on a young, recalcitrant Severus. Perhaps he still held some authority? Severus shuddered in his arms, took several deep, hitching breaths, and finally looked up at him.

“You’ll hate me.”

Uttered in such a hoarse, wrecked voice, it tore at Lucius’ heart.

“I don’t care what you’ve done, my lad. I’ll never have it in me to hate you.”

Severus coughed on a sob. “You should.”

“Just tell me. We’ll fix it.” He hoped.

“I betrayed everything.”

Lucius barely heard the admission.

“Severus, what—”

“He told me he would kill her, her child. I…I went to Dumbledore and warned him. I’ve been spying for him since late August.”

The words tumbled out, as if Severus had been desperate to tell someone. Lucius gaped for a full minute before remembering that Malfoys never gaped.

“Are you telling me,” he began slowly, marshalling his thoughts. “That the Dark Lord told you he would kill Lily Potter. Told you to your face?”

“The child…there’s a prophecy,” Severus whispered.

“Everyone knows she is your one weakness, Severus. Everyone. That includes him. She still lives because the rest of us would also like to live.”

“I don’t…Lucius, I don’t understand.”

“We all know that if any of our crowd hurt one hair on her head we would all be dead at your hand. You’re the potions expert. Avery reckons you could do it so naturally we’d all look like we had dicky hearts.”

“What?” Severus asked faintly.

“It isn’t as if you were ever subtle about her. Now, this is a bit above my line of work.”

Severus pulled back at that, hurt and fear warring in his expressive eyes.

“No, you silly baggage. We’re going to take this to Narcissa. You know she’s the brains of this outfit. Honestly, if you keep on this way you really are going to get the smack you deserve, keeping this from us.” Lucius kept up a constant scold as he hauled Severus up and chivvied him from the room.

He did not miss the surprised shudder from Severus at his threat. Regrettably, experimentation would have to wait. Severus trailed after him, all miserable sniffling and hitched breaths, as he strode up the stairs to Narcissa’s sitting room. Merlin but he missed the coziness of the Dower House at times. Cissa’s rooms were up only one flight there, not two, and were also directly off the landing. But one couldn’t avoid moving into the ancestral pile forever, not without Society talking about it. At least they’d taken the time to renovate and remove a good bit of the Dark Tat Father collected. He considered a stop in the nearest w.c. so Severus could rinse his face, but decided that it would be better for him to confess himself to Narcissa immediately.

Confess himself.

Did they ever truly leave behind the patterns from the past? He’d been thinking about patterns lately as he’d found himself slipping, more and more in recent days, into the prefect he’d been at school. Those old patterns made for an easy path with some, like the men who’d once been in his charge. Without this war…no use in dwelling on that, really. There was a war and he’d chosen a side—or had one chosen for him—a long time ago now. Another pattern there, letting his father choose for him. He wouldn’t do that with Draco. He knew all too well how dangerous that path could be. Imagine if he’d been bonded with Bellatrix? That barely bore consideration. No, he would let Draco choose his own path, even if he wished to do something ridiculous, like topiary performance art.

Could he let Severus loose on his own chosen path? Could Cissa? The mere idea of Severus spying left his blood running cold. He and Cissa rather doted on him, as if he was their first child. From a certain point of view, he was their first. Lucius shuddered to think what Severus would say about being called ‘our boy’ or ‘our lad’ in such sentimental tones. It would very likely end with Severus pitching a pot plant at his head.

He knew better than to throw anything more than a sulk Narcissa’s way.

He felt a bit as if he’d just caught Severus biting someone, yet again, and was dragging him off to Cissa’s judgment after a thundering scold as they went down the corridor to her sitting room. Not that Severus had ever actually cried over a scold as a child. No, it took something stronger to break Severus’ iron grip on his emotions. What he must have gone through to break down like that, to still feel so fragile?

“Narcissa, have you a moment?” he asked, tapping at her door. “Severus has something with which he requires assistance.”

“Of course, my darlings!” Narcissa spoke brightly as her door swung open.

It frightened him, some days, how weak she remained so long after Draco’s birth. She’d had a better day, though, and felt strong enough to be up. He didn’t like to think how her better days came so much more frequently since father’s funeral. His pulse quickened as it always did in her presence, even when she wore a high-necked flannel wrapper against the chill of the day. She still looked pale to him, though her cheeks now held a faint but healthy pink. She reclined on a low divan and Lucius took a moment to admire the way the lamplight played off her hair before he made a long arm and hauled Severus forward.

“You can tell Cissa what you told me,” he ordered, though not too sternly. Severus had been through so much already.

Severus stood for a moment, seemingly poised to flee, and then moved shakily to the divan. He sank down on his knees beside it, burying his face in the cushions, and shivered miserably. Lucius crossed the room and took one of the easy chairs. This, he thought, needed to be between Cissa and Severus.

“I…I betrayed everything…for…for Lily.” The confession came slowly, haltingly.

“What happened, dear heart?” Narcissa stroked a careful hand over his hair.

“There was a prophecy. I heard the first few lines before I was discovered.” Severus coughed, shuddered, and seemed to pull himself together though he never raised his eyes from the cushions. “I brought it to him and…last August he told me that he believed it pointed to…to her child. That he would eradicate the whole family. My boon was that she would left alive for me…if possible. I…I went to the headmaster and…and bartered my service as a spy for their protection. I betrayed all for Lily.” His voice broke at the last and Narcissa ran a gentle hand over his hair.

“And you’ve carried that for months,” she said.

“I couldn’t lie any more. Not to you. Never to you.”

“I know, my darling, I know,” Narcissa soothed.  “He really told you he’d kill Lily Potter?”

“Lucius asked that too. Yes, he did.”

“It’s such an…odd choice for him to make, dear heart. Everyone knows that she has always been your one exception. I have no idea why he would tell you his plan. It makes me wonder how…well, how sane he is.”

“You think…I don’t understand,” Severus sighed.

“Malfoys always look out for their own best interests, Severus, and that includes yours. Lucius and I have had some…concerns lately, and that is all I shall say on that for the moment. The important thing now is to hear what you overheard of the prophecy, please.” She may have said please, but Lucius and Severus recognized it for an order.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies…that’s all I heard of it.”

Narcissa sat quietly for a moment, gently stroking Severus’ hair. Lucius admired the picture they made, wreathed in the sitting room’s rosy light. Severus might never be considered pretty, but he certainly had striking features, especially when he was well-rested and had eaten properly. Lucius noted the signs of neglect piling up again—the dull hair, sallow skin, and lost weight all so apparent—and wished Severus would allow them to care for him as they so wanted. What he would give to go back a few years, to shield Severus from the poison dripped into his ears by so many. A pity time turners had such narrow scope. Several people could use a good kick down the stairs.

“I would like to know,” Narcissa began. “Who hears ‘approaches’ and thinks of an unborn baby?”

“That’s what I thought!” Severus finally looked up, vindicated. “It doesn’t make sense! And it could be b-o-r-n-e and not b-o-r-n. And what calendar is it using? I got crucioed for asking that.” The last admission came sulkily.

“I think, Severus, that the time has come for us to form our own front in this…long engagement,” Narcissa said. “First, though, you are going to have something light to eat and a bath. Then you are going to sleep until you no longer look so exhausted. You did well on coming to us. Lucius and I will take this on.”

“But I can help!” Severus protested. “I didn’t tell you so I would be shunted off to the side.”

Lucius hid a smile at that. Sometimes he wondered if Severus would have been better off sorted to a different House. Hufflepuff, perhaps, given that damned tenacious loyalty of his. He’d give his all, and do it well, even as he swayed on his feet from exhaustion. Blessedly, Narcissa always had a knack for managing him.

“You will in the future. Right now you can help most by sleeping and eating while Lucius and I handle the family part of this. We’ll make everything come out right, darling, but there are a few pieces that must be handled delicately. Grandfather will help, I believe, but I must go see him.”

Severus, disgruntled, allowed himself to be packed off to his usual room. Lucius assisted Narcissa in rising from her divan and gave her his arm for the long walk to her dressing room.

“What exactly has Arcturus Black to do with all this?” Lucius asked.

“Where James Potter dwells so to does Sirius Black.” Narcissa leaned against him, a weakness she would never show to any other. “James is also kin to the main Black line. Grandfather would sooner eat his own cane than allow harm to come to his heir or…not to put too fine a point on it, but James Potter may well have sired the next heir after Sirius.”

Lucius took a moment to appreciate that she would trust him with that.

“But our Draco?”

“Unfortunately, our marriage put him out of  eligibility. Malfoy magic is jealous magic, my love, and refuses to share her next Paterfamilias. Now, what color do you think grandfather would enjoy seeing me in most? He’s such a…a selective man that I never quite know what to choose.”

“Why not the rose pink walking suit?” Lucius patted her hand. He knew better than to press when it came to the Black family and their secrets. “You look lovely in it and the embroidery is a work of art. I believe he objects most strongly to those who won’t learn what suits and is suitable, and then look a fright at his dinner table, like your Aunt Walburga, who will wear claret where burgundy would suit better.”

“The wool is gorgeously warm. And I have my white furs…but such a bright pink in January? Do you think grandfather would find it frivolous?”

“You have the cardinal or the sapphire if you think the rose too unseasonal. I think the French tailoring keeps it from frivolity. He does approve of robes from France.” Lucius opened the door to her dressing room and brought her to the vanity. “Shall I leave you?”

“No.” Narcissa caught his hand. “Stay with me. We can decide on an approach together.”

He smiled down at her and then went to fetch the walking suits they’d discussed. No need to call for help when he could play Lady’s Maid just as well.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

if you'd like to vote just based on that, go ahead, but I've also written longer descriptions for both projects under the cut :)

Slice of life QPR:

As October draws closer for Brighton City College, well-known for its wild parties and a love for all things Halloween, Hayden Cox and Riley Moore find themselves only half of a friend group as Greyson Stewart and Hazel Edwards aim to climb the ranks of the Halloween social ladder to join the legendary Hosts. But when the two of them discover they've got far more in common than just their friends, their Halloween becomes far less that of Brighton City legend, and something far more...them.

A fluffy, university slice-of-life story involving seasonal hijinks and not nearly enough candy! ~80k, working titles are:

Quite a Peculiar Romance (obvious play on Queer Platonic Relationship (QPR))

Spooked

A Brighton City Halloween

***

Gothic found family:

When the Lord of Crosswell Estate plans to wed his niece to a brutish lord to save his wealth, she runs away and stumbles upon Illthern, a forgotten trading village under the control of the monstrous Theodoric Gaut, whom she deceives in order to gain his protection from her wrathful uncle; but when she finds herself face to face with Lord Gaut, who is not what the stories would have her believe, she must wrestle with the monstrosity of her own making before he discovers that his supposed long-lost relative is not what she claims to be.

An inverted sort of Beauty-and-the-Beast that deals with the monstrosity of girlhood and the inherent horror of self-creation. ~170k, working titles are:

Of Beasts and Wretched Things

Shadowcraft

Aurora

If you'd like to add your two cents in about the titles for whichever you'd prefer to see first, feel free to leave it in the tags!

also i'm gonna put my taglist here just 'cause

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[jcdiener]

The twenty-second day of Writemas

Again, fumbling out a scene I think characters from my current novel-in-drafting would participate in. Very short this time as it is half past eleven when I'm starting this (aka why on earth am I doing this to myself aka I feel the need to chastise myself because I'm on holidays and actually wanted to write so much more aka today was a long day so maybe I should just chill).

Thanks to @agirlandherquill for the prompts and the challenge in general, I'm having a lot of fun with this!

The prompts I used:

"It's a time for celebration, wipe that frown from your face."

The feast was foul, the food as wrecked disgustingly pretentious as the fractured gilded plates it sat upon.

---

He'd known it from the very first moment he'd set foot into this wretched hall. Something was off with the fancy dresses, the intricate table decoration. Hell, the whole bloody feast was foul, the food as disgustingly pretentious as the gilded plates it sat upon.

Nique had asked him to come so of course he did. Though why she needed him was beyond him, parties like this were her hobby. She was good at talking old men into throwing their extra cash at a nice little project for a pretty lady with a dress that was bordering on scandalous. Oswin was neither a lady nor good at talking anyone into anything.

He stood next to the table with the crystal wine glasses and wondered if anybody had counted them beforehand. His fingers were twitching and surely nobody would notice one or two of them missing? But then again, Nique would probably be annoyed if he even so much as touched anything. How dare you make a fool out of me? And at Lord What's-his-face's party at that, she said in his head, face turned away in disappointment.

Where was she, anyway? He'd been waiting here for a straight fifteen minutes with no sight of her.

Next to him a man started laughing loudly (and it was just the tiniest bit too obnoxious to sound entirely honest). Both the man himself and the group surrounding him looked like they'd fallen into the circus's pile of discarded costumes.

That must be how Theodor felt in all large crowds, Oswin thought. The colours were so loud, so unfitting, they were literally screaming at him. Glasses clanked from all around the hall and both men and women were indulging in fake conversations and feigning interest.

Oswin snorted, drowning the last bit of the sticky sweet drink that had been offered to him as the house's best vintage.

"What's making you look like someone's put lemon juice into your wine?"

He jumped at hearing Nique's voice.

"You took your time", he said turning to her and put the glass back on the table behind him - all to his immediate regret because without something to hold onto he felt even more out of place. "The invitation didn't mention the secret contest in being insufferable."

Nique smirked at him and took his hand. "It's a time for celebration, dear. Wipe that frown from your face."

She dragged him onto the dance floor and though he knew somewhere in the backs of his mind that usually the man would lead the dance, he gladly let her take the part. He would've looked silly trying to swirl her around anyway.

---

Thank you so much for reading, see you in the next :>