#I can explain more about items purple would sell you + what they do

[fated-normal-767]

@teamfortresstwo ok you get facts about Purple and Orange 👍 I don’t have names for them yet so that’s what they’re called for the duration of this post :]

the ^

- They’re both shopkeeper style characters, the player cannot control either of them. When you enter either room for them, they talk to you as the player directly, even if you are controlling a character at the time. Characters do acknowledge that they exist and can interact with them but mainly talk about them as “that guy is Strange af. Anyways,”

- Purple sells you items that would normally be linked to a character, but become inaccessible for a variety of reasons. For example, no character can take shimmer’s coat, so if shimmer died the coat would become inaccessible to the player. Purple can then sell you that coat. It’s never explained how he can do this. He also sells you his inventions, though these range from “odd and not hugely useful” to “instantly kill you upon interacting with them”. He’s not malicious, just really bad at inventing things. Nothing he invents or sells can kill him, but can cause cartoon style injuries. Just think of it as like, roadrunner style physics.

- Orange I haven’t fully decided, but probably sells weapons that; Killed a character and then were lost, A character died with, or That can change the course of the storyline. She’s much less likely to be seen by the player anywhere. She can’t be killed by any weapon she can access (so only by weapons linked to a specific character permanently can hurt her). She can take objects from any characters inventory if she decides to, but isn’t likely to do so.

- There’s a chance these characters will refuse to sell you items. Orange will refuse if more than roughly half of your choices have seemed to be to purposefully cause harm with no gain, and Purple will do the same if more than 90% of your choices are. You can fight these characters (more likely orange than purple) after this, but will be randomly assigned one object from the last 5 characters you controlled to try and fight with. You would fight as the player with no characters to control. It’s supposed to be extremely unlikely to win.

- Orange is the older sibling, shown by having more eyes (apparently).

- The tails only show off the feathers if trying to show off to or threaten someone. I drew both with feathers fully visible to demonstrate but they function like peacock tails and will fold down. Purple is normally showing off and orange normally is not.

- My favourite “theory” per se is that they’re basically baby biblically accurate angels. The eyes develop as they get older until they’re completely covered in eyes and don’t even seem humanoid. Neither of these two would count as children but are comparatively quite young. This is not necessarily true, it’s a theory, but that’s because nothing about them is technically true due to being ambiguous characters. Similar to Alias.

[yxstxrdrxxm]

POLL RESULT—! > An arts and crafts store. Just in case they were running out.

YESTERDAY decided that since today was more or less a slow day, they ought to check the arts and crafts store. They were thinking about getting new supplies, as they were running out of papers and paints.

And so, they went to the store. They could vaguely hear people talk amongst themselves as they nodded at a few in greeting, but they simply ignored some of those who looked at them.

They couldn't look at them in the eye. They can't.

Taking deep breaths, they pushed through and checked the shop, pushing it open.

Di ~ ing ♪

The first thing that greets them was the scent of parchment paper. It was an oddity, but they felt strangely at ease because of it. Looking around, they began to try and figure out the inner workings of the shop, as they have severely underestimated how big it is.

There were papers and books strewn about everywhere, some of the canvases and pots were put in another area. The florist could only cringe internally, thinking of how much trouble it must be for those who enter the store.

And right by the counter was a blonde lady, sorting out the fallen letters and laughing out of embarrassment. Catching the feeling of being stared, her red eyes shifted to meet theirs.

"Oh! A new customer! Welcome, welcome," she said jovially, urging YESTERDAY to approach her with a friendly grin. "I'm sorry if the place is a mess. My name is ALICE! I own this store, by the way."

That... Explains the messiness...?

"Oh, it's okay. My name is YESTERDAY. I was hoping to be able to buy a few empty bottles and small canvases."

ALICE seem to hum at the request, moving to her left to begin her massive task of sorting the hoard. "I see, I see. Are you going to paint something? Not everyone requests a canvas that's smaller than the usual ones we sell here, you know!"

"Well... Sort of."

(It truly was just for their work, though, YESTERDAY didn't told ALICE that.)

"Oh, how about some paints, too?"

"Ah... Sure? Just not the big ones..."

"Okay! ♪ Any color in mind?"

"... Light green and purple, please."

ALICE hummed once again.

"You know, you remind me of someone."

That made YESTERDAY perk up. They could see the owner rise back up to put down the items on the desk, facing the brunette properly. Her expression was a tad bit contemplative, brows furrowed into thought.

"My niece would often paint in canvases such as these, you know," she began, gesturing to the ones YESTERDAY asked for. "He'd always do them with the smaller paints and in the lighter shades. I asked him why he couldn't think of doing it any darker, and he always tells me that 'he didn't have a reason to'."

...

"Honestly," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "I was honestly expecting that an artist such as him would choose a bigger canvas. He has the skills to make it big, but it's like he refuses to. Do you get what I mean, darling?"

YESTERDAY seem to blink a few times, their mind pondering on ALICE's comment for a while.

I wonder...

"I think I understand why, though," they interjected, fiddling with their mask to adjust it. "Maybe he's not... Ready to make his hobby to a job. Or even yet, he probably doesn't want to."

The blonde cashier raised an eyebrow, but she nodded, tapping her fingers on the counter in a rhythmic motion.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Maybe... Although, if that were to be the case, then I suppose me prying into it isn't a good idea."

With a laugh, ALICE began to pack up the items as she assessed the cost, informing her new client of how much and wishing them farewell as they left the shop.

It was... An odd experience, that's for sure. Although, it wasn't a bad thing.

Now...

This poll will receive answers until 12 NN (GMT+8). Keep in mind that the majority will win, so vote what you think is right.

FLAWED TAGLIST: (send an ask to be added for Flawed!) @beloved-blaiddyd ; @mixed-kester ; @mochinon-yah ; @fffiii ; @leftdestiny-posts ; @ambrosia-divine

[into-the-linkverse]

Of rupees and Koroks

my first LU fanfiction! I am horrible at endings so...yeah. i definitely went off the rails from my original plan (ADHD my beloved) and I am SO SORRY in advance if any of the characters are OOC.

“Okay, and that would come to…200 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio cheerfully stated, holding up the bottle of shimmering red potion for War to admire. The warrior actually scoffed upon hearing the intended price.

“Something wrong, War?” Legend asked, his back leaning against a rather large crate.

“No, no, it’s just…really cheap.” War pointed towards the potion. Both Legend and Ravio blinked blankly. Legend’s face soon turned into one of severe confusion, whereas Ravio’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“200 rupees? Cheap? Were you hit in the back of the head by a bulbin?!” Twilight almost shrieked from his side of the Barnhouse He stopped playing with the cows and quickly jogged over to Ravio’s makeshift shop.

“Back home, a red potion would cost around 10,000 rupees. Isn’t that the case here?” War stated eyebrow raised as Twilight began twitching at the mention of the rupee count. Ravio’s jaw practically dropped.

“My wallet can’t even hold that!”

“Hey, I heard screaming. Who’s dead?” The barn’s door creaked open to reveal Wind, accompanied by a sweating Sky and an unfazed Four.

“War said a red potion would cost 10,000 rupees in his world!” Legend blurted out, almost barking at the heroes. Four huffed for a second, then walked up to Ravio and snatched the red potion.

“Hey, 200 rupees, y’know!”

“This. Costs 20 rupees.” He pointed at the potion, as War soon broke down in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny, pretty boy?” Legend folded his arms.

“You guys must be broke! 20 rupees? That can’t buy you shit!” He managed to get out before banging his fist against the hay covered ground.

“Hey, watch your language!” Sky shouted, moving to cover Wind’s pointy ears. “There are children here.” He lowered his voice as Wind swatted his hands away.

“Okay, okay, I’m trying to run a business here. Let’s go…2,000 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio clasped his hands together, only to realize the item he was selling was nowhere on the table.

“Um…Mr. Smithy? My red potion?”

“Oh, sure.” Four passed the glittering potion back to the purple-haired hero, acting as if he wouldn’t be committing a crime if he didn’t hand it back.

“Here you go, Mr. Captain Hero Sir! Please come again!” Ravio smiled gleefully, having 2,000 rupees handed to him like it was nothing.

“Pfft- I guess War really is a rich snob.” Twilight sniggered, shaking hands with Legend in a mutual agreement.

“Hey, you take that back, farmers!” War shouted, fiddling with his glove as if preparing for a fight.

“War, you realize you’re saying that on a ranch?” A voice called from outside. The door was already opened (Wind forgot to close it) so it was easy to tell that the voice belonged to Time.

“Oh, hey, pops, wanna help us take on pretty boy?” Twilight greeted happily, only making Warriors more enraged.

“No, I’m quite fine. But thank you for the offer anyway. Hyrule asked me to collect you all. He’s having trouble with something. And for Nayru’s sake, behave yourselves.” Time explained to the group, trying not to bring up the fact that he almost locked them in the barn to keep them out of trouble.

“What do you mean “something”? I thought nothing happens on this ranch!” Wind protested, running his hands through his hair, obviously trying to make himself more presentable.

“I have no clue what the deal is myself. Wild and Hyrule are already investigating.”

“Those two? They were better hosts than us?” Warriors looked almost horrified at the idea of being upstaged by Wild of all people.

“Do you want to be cooped up in here all day?” Time asked, almost laughing at War’s sudden reaction.

“Come on, let’s get moving now!” Warriors announced, starting to direct (push) the other heroes out of the barnhouse.

Hyrule was ecstatic. He’d been picking up stray rocks for weeks in hopes to find the small beings called Koroks. Wild had told him all about the strange little creatures that hid under rocks and in trees, and Hyrule soon became intent to find one. At last, at the gates of Lon Lon ranch, Hyrule mindlessly picked up a rock and proceeded to shout in happiness.

“Wild! Wild! I found one!” He cried, perking the ears of the long-haired Hylian. Wild rushed over, practically throwing the Cucco he was holding. He jogged over, only to stop a few feet away from the brown-haired hero.

Hyrule’s eyes were alight with glee, his smile looked like an innocent rabbit’s. He tossed the rock aside, unfortunately landing on Wild’s foot, as he winced. He placed the rock to the side and crouched down to the Korok’s level.

“Yahaha, you’ve found me!” The Korok excitedly squealed, Wild rolling his eyes as he heard the line for the 400thtime. Hyrule nodded in response, too glad to speak and ruin the moment. Before he knew it, Hyrule was handed a small, foul seed. He looked confused for a second and looked up to Wild.

“Yeah…not that impressive, is it?” He sighed, snatching the seed from Hyrule, and adding to his collection. Hyrule blinked as he saw Wild open to pouch to see a mountain of the horrid smelling things. “Gotta get these back to Hestu sometime.” He casually stated, closing his pocket again.

“Buh-bye!” The Korok exclaimed, waving his small, rounded hand towards the two Hylians. Hyrule was not having this. He had spent two weeks searching for the little creatures, and when he does, he’s just supposed to say good-bye after minutes of meeting one? He reached out his arms and took the Korok up to his torso in one swift movement.

“I shall name him Peppers and he shall be mine!” Hyrule proclaimed loudly, much to Wild’s shock. He tried to wrangle the Korok out of Hyrule’s embrace, but the Korok spoke up.

“Actually, I’d love to be Mr. Hero’s friend!” It chirped, sinking into Hyrule’s green tunic. “Aw, see? He likes me!” Hyrule cuddled the Korok, adding a whiny tone to his words. Wild groaned, as he almost felt like Time, having to take care of someone like this.

“You’ll have to ask Time if we can keep it.” He sighed, poking the pointy nose of the leaf faced spirit. As if from nowhere, armored footsteps approached the two Hylians. “Keep what?” The firm voice spoke, making Wild jump for a moment.

“The Korok…?” Hyrule trailed off, still clutching the forest spirit. As the chain came into sight, some stood dumbstruck, whereas Wind’s eyes widened drastically. “Korok!?” The pirate pointed; mouth open wide as he bolted to Hyrule. “What in Din’s name is a Korok?” War groaned; his breath slightly hilted from jogging across the ranch.

“I’m not sure myself…but it definitely looks cute!” Time let slip a small remark of childish nature, a warm smile creeping up on his face. Legend soon ran up to his descendant and grabbed the Korok out of his hands.

“Where’s this little bugger from anyway?” He mumbled, turning the spirit face down to have a proper look at it. He furrowed his brow, then turned to Ravio, gestured to see if the rabbit hero had any clue about the creature. Ravio simply shrugged at him. “Hey! He isn’t some toy to be held like that!” Twilight shouted, scooping up the Korok from Legend’s hands. He held it carefully on his shoulder as one would a cat, as the Korok began playing with Twilight’s hair.

“I’m the best at dealing with animals here. I say we keep it,” Twilight nodded as the Korok’s hands started folding braids into his hair. “Peppers.” Hyrule quickly added, placing a hand on the little Korok’s back. “What’s this about p-peppers?!” Four almost leapt out of his skin after hearing “peppers”. Wild simply laughed and wrapped an arm around him.

“His name is Peppers!” Hyrule said once again, a smile dawning on his face. “Why peppers, though?” Four protested, his disdain for the food clear as day. Wind coughed a bit, trying to hold in a laugh. Sky gave him a light pat on the head and shook his head, mouthing “don’t”.

“Well, I think it’s a great name! Did…Did Wild pick it out?” Sky laughed wistfully, trying to discourage Wind from making fun of Four. “Nope, completely ‘Rule’s idea.” Wild answered, causing Four to instead eye Hyrule suspiciously. Legend folded his arms and let out a huff as Ravio giggled behind him. “Perhaps he’d be interested in renting?” Legend twisted around as Ravio flatly suggested.

“No one in their right mind would be interested in renting, Ravio.” He scoffed, turning back to face the rest of the chain. “I, personally, don’t want it. What if it steals our items and flees in the night?” War accused, pointing a finger towards the creature. A paranoid Warriors, Time couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, the Korok’s come from the Lost Woods. They’re the children of the Great Deku Tree, so I’d doubt they’d do that.” Wild explained, peaking the attention of Time. If the Korok’s were from the Lost Woods, he would have seen some by now, wouldn’t he? Or maybe they only showed up far after his era…

“Wait! You’ve met the Great Deku Tree too?!” Wind’s small figure jumped up, tugging on Wild’s tunic. Twilight eyed the older hero for a moment, he seemed…off. Korok still in arms, he strode up to Time and placed his free hand on his shoulder. “You alright, dad?” Time snapped out of his state of thought and quickly waved it off.

“I’m fine, just…glad that the Deku Tree still exists to them, I guess.” Time replied wistfully, his gaze trailing to the two blue-clad heroes, sharing their experiences with the ancient talking tree. “He was the…closest thing I had to a father.” His next comment caught Twili completely off guard. Does that mean he was related to a tree?

“Wait, your dad was a tree?! Are you joking?” Twilight exclaimed a bit too loudly, catching the attention of Four and Sky, who had been watching the unfolding chaos. Sky’s eyes widened immensely, full of curiosity as he quickly trotted over.

“Time’s father? A tree? My, that must be an interesting story!” Sky clasped his hands together in delight, eager to learn more about the mysterious Time.

“No, the Deku Tree was the closest thing to a father I ever had. I am not part tree.” Time had to hold back a snicker as he clarified that he was not of leafy descent. “I doubt that. Your hair is a very light shade of green.” Four pointed out, raising a hand to his chin in deep thought.

“I think that colour’s called yellow, dumbass.” Wind called from where he stood. Sky growled for a moment then proceeded to shout back: “Watch your language!”

For the rest of the evening, the chain shouted and argued, but settled on to keeping the Korok, naming it Peppers, much to Four’s disgust.

@bokettochild I hope you don't mind I borrowed Ravio's nicknames for everyone :)

[lancermylove]

Vines (Oneshot)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: No pairing.

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Could you please do a one-shot/scenario where the brothers arrive home and a kneels-for-none MC who usually stays out of trouble throws themself at Lucifer's feet begging for forgiveness because they tried to practice reading Devildomish using a gardening book they found in an "antique" shop (read: "magical artifacts") and now vines are encasing the HoL. (Investigation will reveal that they got the magic needed to cast the spell from a watch they bought at the same shop.) Thanks!

A/N: Aww poor MC. Idk why I imagined thorn vines lol. 

Word Count: 1,253

———————————————

"Something seems...off," Satan whispered as the seven brothers got closer to the House of Lamentation.

Asmo glanced towards his older sibling and nodded in agreement, "I sense unfamiliar magic."

"Maybe someone is playing a prank or somethin'," Mammon mumbled, holding his hands up with palms towards the sky and shrugging.

"Not everyone is like you," Levi replied while shaking his head, his purple bangs slightly rustling in the wind.

While the younger siblings conversed, Lucifer listened quietly, but his focus was on the road ahead of him as countless theories raced through his mind. Was this magic as harmless as it seemed, or was it a trap? Did someone want to hurt his family? Where were you, and were you alright?

As soon as the House of Lamentation was in sight, all of them froze in their tracks. Asmo placed one hand on his chest while the other covered his mouth. "Who could have pulled such a prank?"

"I don't sense any danger, so it seems like a prank," Satan spoke, studying the rainbow-colored vines.

Beel's eyes sparkled as he scanned the plants encasing their house. "They remind me of a rainbow pizza. Can I eat them?"

"Beel...don't," Belphie yawned and tugged on his twin's sleeve, "we can eat after this mess is sorted."

Lucifer touched his index finger and thumb to his forehead, letting out an exasperated sigh. How he wished he could have one peaceful day. Gathering himself, the Avatar of Pride marched inside through the main entrance, ready to rebuke the one responsible.

"What am I going to do?" You mumbled under your breath as you paced by the grand staircases. "Maybe he'll forgive me if I apologize? What if I start explaining as soon as they walk in?"

As soon as you saw the eldest brother, your body reacted automatically. Kneeling at his feet, you took a tight hold of his pants and lowered your head, much to Lucifer's shock.

"I am so sorry! I don't know what happened, so please forgive me! I swear I didn't mean it." You apologized continuously without pausing to take a breath. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw two gloved hands taking hold of your shoulders.

"Stand up," Lucifer said in a commanding and almost irritated tone.

You released his pants and stood up, but your eyes remained glued to the ground. You considered apologizing again but decided to wait on one of the brothers to speak.

"I considered you to be a well-behaved individual, so explain how this situation came about." The Avatar of Pride crossed his arms and glared down at you.

"I-I...," you hesitated, taken aback by his sharp tone.

"Sweetie, it's alright. Take a deep breath and explain what happened." Asmo gently said, stepping beside you and resting his hand on your back.

You glanced at the Avatar of Lust and nodded before speaking. "Since I am going to be here for a while, I wanted to practice reading Devildomish. Then I came across a gardening book and purchased it...the salesdemon even complimented my book choice."

"Then what happened?" Asmo flashed a sweet smile, encouraging you to continue your story.

"The book was a bit difficult to read at my current level. There was one section that seemed easier, so I read the pages out loud, and this happened." You shifted your eyes to Lucifer but quickly averted them after seeing his vexed expression. "I don't know what happened, but I am sorry! Please...don't be upset."

The eldest demon sighed and rested his hand on the top of your head. "My apologies for being harsh. I thought you came under the influence of one of my brothers and pulled a prank."

"H-Hey, you're makin' me sound like a bad guy," Mammon rubbed the back of his head. "Though this would make a great prank."

"Mammon..." Lucifer's voice sent a down everyone's spine. The Avatar of Greed backed away from his older sibling, preparing to run.  

"Hold on a moment," Satan said, furrowing his eyebrows, "something doesn't seem right."

"I agree." The raven-haired demon nodded, "This situation is quite unusual. (Y/N), where is the book you purchased?"

You hurried down the foyer and grabbed the book with your damp hands. Rushing back you nearly tripped over the long runner but managed to recover.  Your cheeks were a bright red as you held the work in front of Lucifer. "H-Here."

He raised an eyebrow and took the book from your hand. "Where...did you purchase this book?"

"The antique shop."

Satan glanced at the book and chuckled, "Are you certain you went to an antique shop?"

"Y-Yes. Why?" You titled your head to one side and blinked in confusion.

"'Cause that's a spellbook," Mammon answered, leaning in close to Lucifer to get a better look at the book.

The eldest sibling glared at the Avatar of Greed and hit him on the forehead with the bounded pages, earning a groan in return. "Yes, this is a spellbook. Regardless, due to your lack of magic abilities, you still should not have been able to cast the spell."

"Interesting." Satan tapped his right index finger on his chin while his left hand rested on his hips.

"Normie, can you use magic?" Levi asked while twirling his headphone wire in his fingers.

"Are you hiding something from us, (Y/N)?" Satan teased with one eyebrow raised and a smirk.

"H-Huh? N-No, I am not."

"All of you stop teasing (Y/N). Can't you see how nervous they already are?" Asmo hushed his brothers and rubbed soothing circles on your back. "Don't listen to them, sweetie. We know you are not hiding anything from us."

"How can you be certain, Asmo?" Belphie asked in a tired voice, his head leaning against Beel's arm, "Humans are known for being deceiving."

"Someone solve this already," Beel mumbled as he rested his head on his stomach. A loud grumble echoed through the foyer, startling everyone. "I am hungry..."

You recalled your journey through the antique shop and remembered that the book was not the only item you bought. "Oh, I forgot to mention this watch. I thought it was unique and got it along with the book."

"May I?" Satan asked, pointing towards the watch and holding his palm out to you.

You removed the item and placed it in Satan's hand, watching his reactions. He carefully examined it and exchanged a glance with Lucifer. "So, how will we rid the House of Lamentation of these vines?"

"What about solvin' the mystery first?" Mammon asked with his eyes fixed on the watch. He had to resist the urge to snatch the wristwatch and sell it for top dollar.

Satan shook his head, knowing Mammon's intention, but proceeded to explain. "This watch gave (Y/N) the ability to cast the spell. Looks like they were completely innocent after all."

Belphie chuckled, "You should be careful of entering unknown shops. You never know what you'll end up with."

"At least the vines are harmless." Asmo chimed in, "Hm, you know these vines are quite beautiful. Can we keep the vines for today? The House of Lamentation will be a little less dreary for the day."

"Um...everyone..." Levi called out and pointed towards Beel.

The Avatar of Gluttony could no longer hold his hunger pains, so while the rest of you deliberated, he began chomping down on the vines. All of you stared at him with various emotions - shock, awe, disgust, and amusement.  

"At least he's eating his greens," Asmo chuckled.

"Still better than him trying to eat a castle pillar," Mammon shook his head. The rest of you couldn't agree more.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

[cherripeach]

Chapter 14

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:11-12 good credit, bad credit, you dead: ghost credit

Running to the store on campus, so cute.

Warnings: Curse words, implied violence

Words: 3.1k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Ace groaned while face planting on the counter, “We finally finished peeling them all!”

Deuce moaned in pain, “My arms hurt…” He, then, stretched his arms and popped some of his knuckles while rolling his neck. 

You agreed with the two boys, “Yeah, I don’t wanna move for the next decade.” You made your seat on one of the stools next to the counter to take a break after standing for what felt like hours. 

Trey chuckled at your reactions, “Great work. I’m sure that your hard work will all be worth it.” While you three were sulking, Trey began cleaning up as much as possible by putting things away and putting things in the dishwasher. 

Grim grumbled, “I’m getting hungry just by the smell, yanno.” The cat had tried to take as much of the ingredients as possible while you were preparing, but barely managed to get any.

Trey took a sheet of paper out from a binder and sorted some of the ingredients next to some cooking utensils, “The marron base uses butter and sugar. And then, I also added some oyster sauce as a secret ingredient.”

Ace and Deuce jumped up from their positions of dread in shock, “Oyster sauce?!”

Trey placed the sheet down and grabbed a bottle of the sauce,  “Exactly. The savory flavor of the chestnuts gives the cream a rich flavor. And then, to make it better, I use this,” He motioned to the sauce in his hand,  “‘Walrus-brand young oyster sauce’.  There’s no famous pâtissière who doesn’t use this for their tarts, you know?” He ended it all with a closed eyed smile. 

Deuce mumbled, “Really…? It’s a pretty salty sauce, isn’t it?”

“You know how they put chocolate in curry, too?” Ace gave an example,  “It kinda makes sense…”

You were,  on the other hand, not having it, “Naw, dude. It doesn't; sweet can't just nullify salt or reverse. It’s practically impossible.” You shook your head while the two idiots were just pouting in their confusion. 

Trey chuckled while clutching his stomach, “You're right! I was just joking! There’s no way I’d put oyster sauce in a dessert, you know? How’d you know?”

The two idiots never would have guessed that. 

Ace’s hand’s shot up in his defense, pointing at his senior, “What the heck!? Are you making fun of us!?”

“It’s obviously impossible if you think about it a little.” Trey’s lighthearted giggle switched to a more wise old lecture, “The moral lesson here is that you shouldn’t believe anything you’re told. Learn to doubt a bit, okay?”

You nodded your head, “See, Ace. I don’t gotta learn that because I knew right away.” 

You were a genius. In all eyes besides Ace’s, that is. 

Ace snorted, “I bet it was a lucky guess.”

You fought back, “Pshhhh. No way.” You knew this was just the start of one of your many squabbles. 

Grim whispered to you behind his hand, “This guy looks nice, but he’s the type who can tell lies with no problem, huh…”  

“I guess so.” Your eyes widened at Grim’s statement. 

Trey rallied you all together to begin the next step, “Next is the fresh cream!”

A shrill scream ran through the air.

Ace bounced up and questioned Trey, “What’s wrong?”

You joined Ace with your question, “Are you okay?”

“I got carried away with the chestnuts you picked that I went overboard with making the marron base.” Trey laughed at himself and rubbed the back of his head, “We’re a little short on fresh cream.”

Deuce offered, “I’ll go buy some. Do they sell it in the school store?”

Trey explained,  “That shop sells pretty much anything, so I’m sure it should be there. Can I ask you to buy some other stuff while you’re at it? Two packs of milk, two cartons of eggs, silicon cups, and five canned fruits…” He writes down the list of items and hands them to Deuce. 

Deuce reads the list before commenting, “I don’t think I can carry all of that alone…” 

This was your chance, “I’ll come! I need to see if they have uniforms there, anyway.” Maybe you could find some uniforms or even some other clothes for a nice price as if you had any money. 

Grim interjected,  “I’m going, too! I don’t wanna mix more dough!” He raised his little paw as far as his body would allow it. 

“Understandable.”  You did not need to lose your arms over baking. 

The three of you began your walk to the grocery store on campus with only some light chatter about how excited you all were to taste the finished product and how Grim shouldn’t steal it all. 

The grocery store was the size of a drug store, but apparently from what Trey said it had everything anyone at this school needed. It’s gotta be a magic store.  

“We sure this is it?” You questioned Deuce because he was sure to know more than you, right?

Deuce pointed out, “I haven’t heard of any other shops here.” 

Grim quickly agreed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get a move on!”

While still warry, you approached the place behind the two overexcited shoppers, both who had stars in their eyes as someone from a novel would say. 

Deuce gazed around the place with wide eyes after opening the door where a little bell rang, “Pardon us! Whoa, what an amazing shop… Crystal skulls, magical texts, and… wh-what sort of animal is this…?” Deuce motioned to an animal’s skeleton that was just laying out on one of the shelves. Grim and Deuce took two steps closer to inspect the animal while you took two steps back. 

Grim, who began to travel by himself around the store, questioned Deuce and you, “Can we really find some fresh cream here?”

“I’d be surprised if we couldn't find it.” You opened a box that was filled with dusty books while nodding to Grim. 

Out of nowhere came a voice near the counter,  “Hey! Little lost lambs, what can I help you with? Welcome to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop.” The man had one of the oddest outfits with a bright pink shirt but then a black and dark purple jacket. His fashion sense was certainly new, but his vibe was what shocked you the most. Almost like he knew too much. What is it that you wish for today? A charm against cheating?” He pulled out a slip of paper from his chest pocket, “ An ancient king’s mirror?” a small mirror from his sleeve,  “Or maybe, some cursed tarot cards?” He even pulled a box out of thin air. 

Grim was frozen in shock for a moment and joined the conversation with a breath, “Ah, you startled me!”

You added on, “He reminds me of those characters from video games and movies that are just normal store owners or vendors that have some of the oddest items.” Looking at his shop, you believed yourself for a moment. 

The three of you made your way to the little counter at the back of the store. 

Deuce took out the list from his pocket and handed it to the man, “Um… We would like to buy the things written on this note.”

Grim used his arms to pull his face onto the counter as to be seen and begged,  “And I also want some canned tuna!”

“With what money?” You waved at him in disbelief,  “And I have a question for you, Mystery man.”

Deuce pushed Grim off of the counter,  “No! We will not buy any canned tuna!” which only caused Grim to growl at Deuce. 

The male scanned the note while tapping his finger in his chin,  “Mhmm. What do we have here? Fresh cream and eggs… Oh, my! What a pretty sweet line-up” He gave Deuce a thumbs up, “OK! I shall bring them out now. And I’ll get back to you in just a minute.” The male nodded at you with a small wink at the end of his sentence. 

Totally an odd vibe.

Deuce gasped in disbelief letting go of Grim’s fur,  “Whoa… Will he really have some here?”

You voiced your thoughts, “Maybe the back is just really big?”

The man returned with five bags full of items on your list, “Here, thank you for the wait. It is rather heavy, so are you sure you can carry them all?” The male, then gestured to a sign right next to the cash register about a special bag to carry all the items, “If you act now, I can throw in a special bag to carry all of those things for 30% off of its original price!” Deuce took out the money Trey gave him and handed it to the shopkeeper. 

Grim blurted out, “What did you say? Hey, that sounds interesting!” The cat grabbed your clothes as he normally does pointing at the sign to get your attention focused on it. 

Deuce shook his head while grabbing three of the five bags, “We. We will have to decline! Let’s go, Grim!”

“But why?! I wanna play more!” A pointing Grim was not resulting in a good day for anyone, but at this rate you couldn’t spend money on any food. 

“About that question,” You brought it up to the shopkeeper. 

The off-vibe man nodded,  “Ok, what's the problem, little lost lamb?”

You asked, “Do you sell uniforms or at least know where I can find one?”

“I should have some, but they're all used ones. I’ll even cut the price because of how damaged they are.” He then told you the price which was great for uniforms but as someone who owned no cash, not the best.

You thanked the male as you picked up the last two bags while the other two began to walk out, “Thanks! I’m gonna come back once I have the money, but please save them for me.” 

“Ok! of course, little lost lamb. I’ll have them in stock just for you.” He winked at you again, and at this point and time you’re just gonna assume it’s normal for him. 

“Thank you so much!!” You responded while finally walking out of the shop. 

Once outside, Deuce began a new conversation, “That was a very amazing shop, in a way…”

Grim was still pouting at the two of you for not giving him free food, “Boo, you two are so stingy.” His arms were snuggly crossed over one another and even his ears were flattened against his head. 

Deuce swung around to ask Grim, “Who are you calling stingy?!” This, however, almost resulted with Grim getting a concussion because of how the bag of canned fruits and heavy cream knocked Grim to the ground. 

Deuce quickly apologized, “Sorry!”

You placed your bag to check on Grim by feeling on his head for any bumps or any scrapes from the bag,  “Well, no one would give a brat what they want now would they? I know you want some tuna, but money is tight right now and I can’t get you any for a while. Once I save up enough, I promise I’ll get you some.” You brushed back his hair before flicking at his forehead, “Just remember to keep that ego in check. Soon, who knows, maybe I can even buy a hairbrush and maybe even a phone.”

 Deuce coughed before fixing the bags in his hold to reach his hand out to you, “The bag with the milks is heavy, isn’t it? I’ll hold it for you. I’m experienced with carrying heavy loads.”

You shook your head, “No way, lover boy, I can handle myself just so you know. And besides that's an odd area of expertise. Any reason why?” You kept walking to distract the male from taking your bag.

Deuce flushed red before starting his explanation, “Yeah, Mother always takes me with her during timed sales. She buys a lot, so I end up helping her with the bags. I’m the only man in the family, so I’m used to helping a lot with hard labor. Ah, I’m sorry… I keep talking about myself.” His face flushed even darker. 

You rolled your eyes, “That is incredibly sweet of you, Deuce. Don’t be scared to talk to me about anything. We’re friends. You must care for your mother a lot with how you talk about her.”

Deuce stuttered, “No… That’s not true at all. I… Mother was…” Deuce flies back onto the ground after connecting with someone’s chest, “Ouch!”

All of the materials that Deuce was holding fell to the ground, but the biggest problem was that the eggs were now completely broken and leaking everywhere on the sidewalk. 

Grim gasped and fell to his knees to try and save the groceries, “Ah, the eggs!!”

“Hey, you ok?” You reached out your hand to Deuce who grabbed it so that you could pull him up onto both of his feet. 

Deuce locked eyes on the bag of now broken eggs and cursed, “Damn it!” He picked up the bag of eggs and began to check to see if any of the eggs were not broken and could be used, “All the eggs in the carton broke! The plastic bag’s now reeking with eggs…!” Deuce tossed them in the trash while Grim squirmed to grab the bag from him. 

A white haired familiar looking male scoffed at the three of you, “That hurt! Where the hell’re ya lookin’ at,” His eyes darted to each member of your little group before continuing, “Wha? You’re the guys who ruined my carbonara’s soft-boiled egg during lunch today!” 

Another familiar red haired student was right on his side, “Damn, it’s you guys again. Ya better give us a break.” 

You grabbed as many bags as you could carry that Deuce had before, and you snorted, “And I thought I already crushed your egos, but I should have known you can't break a brick for a brain.”

The white haired boy snickered at the three of you, “Well it seems the little supervisor can’t even get us in trouble so no need for fear. You can’t harm us.” 

Deuce had been standing in place for the last couple of seconds with his eyes on his feet, “…Aren’t you the ones at fault for bumping into me?” His sharp gaze met that of the duo of delinquents, “Even during lunch. The egg wasn’t really that badly harmed, but you made a huge scene out of it. Our carton of eggs is totally ruined, though.” Deuce rolled up the sleeves to his jacket. 

Grim agreed standing as tall as he could across from the two upperclassmen, “He’s totally right!”

You walked over to where Deuce and Grim had made their little fighting stance, “Let’s just leave. They’re not gonna listen and we shouldn't get into a fight with idiots.” To further get Deuce’s attention, you pulled into the shoulder of his jacket to motion toward the bags, “We can always replace them. Let’s just get what we have back.”

The white haired boy swore, “The hell? You sayin’ it’s my fault, then? And idiots? I’m much smarter than any of you. Respect your elders!”

Deuce paid no mind to you or your constant poking on his shoulder, “Yes, please pay us back for the eggs. And also, please apologize to the chickens.”

“Hah?” The red haired boy quipped at Deuce, “Makin’ a ruckus over eggs, are we?”

Deuce grunts, “Hah?” before turning to you, “Remember the promise right?”

You nodded at him. 

“Then, back up.” He lightly pushed you to make you back up, “And don’t get involved.”  You locked eyes with the male only to see his eyebrows furrowed and a large scowl on your face. And as much as you wanted to help him and get him out of this situation, there’s nothing you can do against magic users. At least not yet.

The two other students did not realize how ready Deuce was to make this physical or how personal this was. 

The whit haired boy groaned, “It didn’t hit the ground so you can still eat it. Stop makin’ a fuss over little things.” The boy slapped his friend before whispering something to him. 

The other boy snickered before adding, “Ya better be thankful they broke inside the plastic bag!” 

“Not only are they dumb, but blind too,” You mumbled to yourself which Grim could hear from his small chortle. 

Deuce still had not lost his eye contact with the other two boys, seemingly eyeing them down to wait for the perfect moment. 

Both of the boys let out the largest giggles possible that a teenage boy could without sounding like girls gossiping with their heads thrown back and their hands clutching their stomachs. 

“Laughing at something that is surely your fault.” You rolled your eyes while trying to get the boy’s attention on Deuce who was in your eyes about to murder a bitch, “I think you should just pay us back for it. Maybe some extra too for having to deal with your terrible attitude to even it out.” 

Neither student responded to you only grunting out stiffles of laughter for the next couple of seconds. 

Deuce muttered to himself breaking eye contact with the two to gaze down at his hand which was clenched like in one of those TV shows when a character is going to do something he regrets, “... Mess with me, will you…”

White haired kid raises his eyebrows in confusion as Deuce looks to be slowly going insane,  “Huh?”

Deuce exploded at the two, “I told you to stop laughing, damn it!!” His feet began to move closer and closer to the two who just stood in horror for the boy who was once silent, “You ain’t got no choice but to apologize for something that’s your fault! These eggs will be used to make a delicious tart in place of turning into chicks, bastard!! Do you understand me, huh!?”

“Wh-what’s with him all of a sudden…?!” The red haired boy was backing away from the approaching student and had a look of disbelief on his face. 

Deuce grabbed his fist in one hand and cracked the knuckles of the other one, “If you’re not gonna pay me back for the 6 eggs, I got no choice but to beat the hell out of you six times.”

The white haired male faltered, “Huh!?” before seeing the blue haired male coming straight for him with his fists in a fighting position. 

 “Grit your teeth, you little bastards!!” And with that Deuce began his little fight by pulling at the kid’s clothes and punching them a little too hard.

“Where does that phrase even come from?” But what could you do besides stand there and wait even if you didn’t want the two to get hurt going into the fight now would be harmful.

You really need to stop getting involved in fights. 

[thenextchapter22]

Loving the Demon Prince

Description: Each chapter will feature Diavolo and one of the brothers (and Simeon just because) being in a relationship, acting cute or being flirty, going on dates and such.

Warnings: Cute, Funny, Cheesy, Hints of Sex, Adorable Diavolo

Pairing(s): Diavolo/Mammon, Diavolo/Satan, Diavolo/Beel, Diavolo/Belphie, Diavolo/Leviathan, Diavolo/Asmo, Diavolo/Lucifer, Diavolo/Simeon

Word Count: 3,574

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes: Please enjoy these cute snips of our Demon Prince being adorable and sexy with the other demon bros (and Simeon).

_+_

Mammon

“Young Master, is this such a good idea?”

“Barbatos, my good friend, he means no harm. I have plenty of jewels. It’s adorable how excited he gets so let him have a few moments of happiness at my expense.”

Barbatos sighed. “If that’s what you wish, my Lord.”

Lord Diavolo grinned. He watched on as Mammon, his lover, decorated in his many crown jewels that he told him he could keep, smiled and spoke to himself about all the things he was going to do with his new items he received (mostly sell them). From necklaces, to rings, even an actual crown, Mammon was decked out in gold. It suited him so well.

“Ohh, this will go for a shit ton of grimm,” he said excitedly, clutching a large black diamond to his chest. He hugged it like it was a baby.

Diavolo was getting a bit heated looking on at his smiling face, with his fingers clutching gold and silver. Mammon acted all macho around others but he was a softy at heart. He just needed a little love and some sweet gestures and he turned into goo. Diavolo thought it was one of his best qualities.

“Mammon.”

The white-haired demon stopped his captivation to glance at the Prince. “Yeah?”

Diavolo took his hand, and kissed his many ring adorned fingers. His skin was so sweet on his lips. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

Mammon blushed. “O-oh, okay.” He bit his lip when Diavolo started tugging him along, the sounds of all the jewelry clinging as they went.

Barbatos held back a chuckle, but Diavolo, knowing the butler for so long, shook his head at the snake-tailed demon as they passed him. “I’ll have super brought to your rooms later this evening, young Master.”

“Excellent. Come, Mammon.” He paused, then looked back at his lover with a seductive smirk. “Well, not yet.”

Mammon whined. “Dia!”

__++__

Satan

“So you just drink coffee and pet cats?”

“Exactly.”

“This sounds wonderful! Let us go now!”

Satan chuckled at the eagerness. It never got old how much Lord Diavolo put into everything.

So they went to the café, it was in the human world but being the Demon Prince had perks. Taking a booth in the back, they got a few treats and some drinks, enjoyed some small talk, until a pair of cats came strolling up to them.

Satan found them to be quite pretty, one sleek black with bright green eyes, the other orange with white stripes and dark brown eyes with flecks of gold. He took the orange cat in his arms as she was closest, and she purred while he pet her fur.

Diavolo copied him, but his cat was a bit claw crazy and he got scratched. The cat escaped his grip and went to drink some milk on the table. Diavolo looked dejected.

Satan sighed, but smiled. He knew what went wrong. “No, slowly pet them. He’s a bit skittish I think. Some are so you have to be gentle.”

“Gentle,” Diavolo whispered, once again petting the cat in front of him.

It took a few minutes but he once again held the cat, proudly, and they both held the purring creatures in their arms while sipping hot coffee. It was pleasant and perfect.

“This is great fun, I may take one of these cats home. But Barbatos would not enjoy cleaning up the fur.” Diavolo grinned at Satan, and kicked at his feet under the table childishly. Satan did so back, happily. One of the greatest things Satan loved about being with Diavolo was that he brought out Satan’s fun side, he was allowed to be silly with the Prince.

But he was shocked at what Diavolo’s next words were as he leaned forward towards Satan, licking his lips sensually. “I want to see you in your kitten ears tonight, purring for me.”

Satan blushed. “Yes, Master.”

__++__ 

Belphie

“The stars are quite lovely tonight, but not as lovely as you are beneath them.”

“Cheesy,” Belphie said to Diavolo with a smirk. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

Belphie was in full demon form, and he used his tail to wrap around Diavolo’s waist to tug him close. They ended up falling to the pillow-ridden floors, laughing as they rolled around until they ended up on their backs. Hands linked, they gazed upwards at the darkened Devildom sky with scattered flickers of bright lights, from orange to blue to red.

Looking to his left at the gorgeous and kind demon, Belphie couldn’t help but think, how did he ever get so lucky to have the Future King as his own? After all he had put the three realms through those many years ago with the human exchange student.

“Do you despise me?” he asked softly.

Diavolo looked shocked. Pulling the youngest into his arms and onto his strong sturdy chest, Diavolo kissed his forehead, careful of his horns. “I would never despise you, my love.”

Belphie sighed into his chest. How could he say that? He nearly killed the human student in his desire to see all humans die for some stupid revenge. Then Diavolo spared him, and in his punishment which mostly consisted of cleaning like a servant around the palace and his own home, he found love with the Prince in his time seeing him at the castle. And oddly enough, the Prince came to love him, too.

“You’ve learned many things, Belphie, and you’ve grown into an incredible demon. I cherish each moment I have with you.”

Belphie nodded. Diavolo’s words reassured him. “I do, too.”

Diavolo held the Sloth demon’s cheek in his large hand, Belphie’s lashes fluttered closed as they kissed softly. It was a sweet kiss, full of love, and it was his way of letting him know that the Prince would always care for him.

“I love you, Belphegor.”

“I love you, too, Dia.”

Under the bright stars atop the palace, Belphie and Diavolo snuggled close, keeping the other warm. Occasionally kissing, but mostly snuggling, content in the others’ arms. And if Belphie fell asleep, then Diavolo would simply carry him to their rooms to snuggle in the warmth of the bed, and wake him with even more sweet kisses.

__++__ 

Beel

Beel’s two favorite places were a kitchen for obvious reasons, and a gym. He loved to work out before he ate a big meal. If he didn’t, he might have a bigger stomach. But also he just really liked the feeling he got in his muscles when he worked out, it was almost the same as when he ate a really yummy cheeseburger.

And once he found out he could use the palace gymnasium, he was thrilled. Being in a relationship with the crown Prince meant he could use the palace kitchen when he was there, too, and Barbatos made the best food.

His favorite thing, though, was when Diavolo worked out with him. Beel had a decent 8 pack, but so did Diavolo. The Gluttony avatar always stared at him when he did his weight lifting sets. Like right then, the Prince was lifting with one arm, and his chest was bare, glistening, flexing, and he made these grunting noises that made Beel’s sweat pants tighten.

“Staring again, Beelzebub?” Diavolo teased, flexing his arms as he set down the large hand weight.

“N-no… Yes…” Beel blushed. “Sorry.”

Diavolo chuckled. “Don’t be, I love it when you do.” He winked. “I think that’s enough for today, though. Let’s clean up and we can go have a snack.”

Beel’s eyes lit up. He was so perfect. “Okay.”

Once cleaned up, and after helping the Prince wipe down his back with a towel (if Beel wasn’t hungry he would have definitely been more adventurous with that towel), they sat at the bar top of the kitchen on the main level of the castle. Barbatos just left, having set out a plethora of treats for the both of them.

“Here, try this one, it’s a super spicy fried bat wing,” Diavolo held it out to Beel by his hand.

This was brave of him, but Beel was gentle when he took it with his mouth. Plus he had his mouth in other places on Diavolo’s body before.

He swallowed it and nodded, it was delicious! "Mmm that was sinfully good.”

Diavolo smirked. “Can I taste?”

Beel nodded. He was about to offer the Prince one because they had two plates full and he could spare just one for him of course, but then Diavolo’s tongue was in his mouth. Beel moaned, he tasted so good. Better than the bat wings, no doubt about it.

“Let’s finish eating, I have some more plans for how we can spend our evening together. And it involves dessert.”

Minutes later, the food was gone. Diavolo had grabbed something from the fridge, a can of spray cream, and some red fruit that looked like human food, and inclined his head towards the hall. “Let’s go have some fun, shall we?”

__++__

Leviathan

“How do you use this?”

Leviathan sighed for the tenth time. Diavolo was clueless. For being such an incredible Prince, he really couldn’t figure out how to work a controller?

“Here, you push this to jump, move this to turn left and right, and this is the special move button.”

“Right. I think I understand now.”

“Great! Let’s play!”

They sat on the floor in Leviathan’s room on pillows, snacks and drinks around them. One hour later, Levi was pissed. How did this demon, who did not know what a joy stick was until Levi explained it, beat him 17 times? This was a disaster for an otaku like him, what would his fellow gamers say if they found out a newbie won him? He would be ruined, forever know as a loser.

He sniffled. “Not fair. I’ve mastered this game, I’ve never lost before…”

Diavolo put his hand on Levi’s shoulder, the purple-haired demon flinching. Diavolo didn’t falter. “Don’t be so upset, my love, it’s only a game.”

That made him shrink into himself more, and Diavolo frowned. He knew how much these things meant to Levi, but not to this extent. Really, after being lovers for a few months now, he did not understand the nerdy demon very well. But he got used to his shy personality that suddenly blossomed when he spoke about his passions for his games. It was cute how much he loved these devices of his.

The Prince grabbed Levi by his waist and began showering his face in kisses, trying to distract him from the sadness emitting from him. He also began tickling his sides with his fingers, gripping one hip in his hand to keep him still.

Levi sputtered, giggling uncontrollably. “Dia, noo, stop! Ha ha ha! That tickles, please!” Levi bat at him with all his might. Eventually he even transformed into his demon form, and tried using his tail to shove the larger demon away but it was not working.

“Not until you say ‘I am the greatest gamer of all time’!”

“N-no, no way!” Levi laughed, his face was aching. “P-please stop!”

Diavolo let up, and put his head on top Leviathan’s, the demon in return wrapping them both with his serpent tail. They stayed that way until Levi got his breath back to normal. Diavolo loved to hold Levi like a doll for some reason, not that the otaku minded, but it took some time to get used to it.

“It was dumb luck,” Levi murmured, “I just know it.”

“Hm. Why don’t we play again, then?”

“I will beat you, Dia. I promise on my Ruri-chan that I will defeat you.”

Diavolo’s eyes flashed. “Challenged… accepted.”

Leviathan gasped. “Oh, it’s on.”

They played until Leviathan’s wins overtook Diavolo’s. Only then did the two cuddle together, and Levi said into Diavolo’s neck from the Prince’s lap with firmness, “I am the greatest gamer of all time.”

Diavolo hummed, smirking into the soft hair of his love. “You are, my sweet little otaku, you most definitely are.” He would never know that the entire time that Diavolo was letting him win.

__++__ 

Asmo

“Let’s do this color for your nails, it’ll look so good with your skin tone~”

Diavolo agreed. “You know best, Asmo. Whatever you want to do.”

Asmo started to paint, holding the larger tan hand in his own as he flawlessly brushed the Prince’s nails with shiny polish. “Oh, whatever I want to do, hmm? What if I wanted to bend over right now and have you take me?” He grinned, eyes flashing with lustful power.

Diavolo laughed. While Asmo never failed to turn him on, there was one thing stopping that. “I think we should wait for the paint to dry before we get frisky, my love.”

Asmo sighed. “I suppose…”

Diavolo never got a lot of time to relax, so being treated to a spa day with his lover Asmodeus was something he had been looking forward to all week. Asmo was cheeky, flirty, and never afraid to speak his mind. Sure, Diavolo had to praise him for his looks almost every time he saw the Lust demon, but that wasn’t too difficult seeing as he was very pretty.

“There, all done! Oh, I have the greatest idea. Your hair has gotten a big long, can I braid it?” Asmo begged with his eyes, pouting. He leaned in so close to Diavolo the Prince couldn’t help but nip at his lips a little, Asmo moaning loudly.

Asmo breathed against his lips, “If you keep that up, I might just have to deal with the nail polish on my bed.”

Diavolo chuckled, and playfully swat Asmo’s butt as he turned around to grab something from his vanity (which was littered with items that Diavolo had no clue what half of them were for). The demon ‘oooh’ed and wiggled it. “Perhaps later, I don’t find the idea of getting wet polish on myself that appealing.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“But if you’d like to braid my hair, feel free.”

“I’d never turn down a chance at fingering your lovely locks, my beautiful prince.”

Asmo stood behind Diavolo while he kept his seat. The younger demon’s elegant fingers began weaving through his hair. He couldn’t do much, just two short braids on either side, and Asmo giggled when he saw the Prince’s face. He usually looked so fierce and large, he was the soon to be King he had to, but right then he looked adorable. Big eyes, braided hair, a charming smile. Asmo was truly in love with someone other than himself, even if just a little bit.

“How do I look, darling?”

“Positively radiant.” Asmo plopped down onto his lap, and tugged one of the braids. “Truly magnificent.”

Diavolo narrowed his eyes but kept a hold on his hips so he would not fall, Asmo in return holding his shoulders. “Oh, are we playing some sort of game, Asmodeus?”

Wiggling his butt, Asmo smirked back and said, “Hmm, you know exactly what kind of games I like~”

Thankfully the nail polish had dried. Because Asmo’s bed would have never been the same if not for quick dry nail polish.

__++__ 

Lucifer

“Even you need to get some sleep, Luci. You’re always beautiful to me, but your eyes have bags.”

Lucifer sighed. His head ached, his eyes were blurry, and he couldn’t help but blurt out his troubles. “It’s just… Mammon has stolen Asmo’s jewelry again, and apparently there was something important about it I cannot remember but Asmo won’t shut up about it. Leviathan hasn't come out of his room in a week. Plus Belphie and Beel are fighting and the entire house can sense it and Satan is up to something again. I keep seeing him eyeing me with that smirk that means trouble.”

Diavolo cooed, and pulled Lucifer into his arms. Luckily school was on a break, otherwise Diavolo would feel guilty for adding more to his plate.

At first, the Prideful demon was stiff. Then he melted into the embrace and hugged back. “You need some coffee or sleep.”

“Perhaps both.”

Diavolo laughed. “Let’s take a nap, and then we can have coffee together afterwards. I’ll ask Barbatos to make us his special coffee cakes as well. What do you say?”

Lucifer smiled. He was truly spoiled with Diavolo as his lover. “It sounds excellent. My bed or yours?”

“I think mine would be best.”

Traveling to the castle, they settled in Diavolo’s massive bed after Lucifer changed into his spare silk PJ’s he left there always. Diavolo behind on the mound of pillows, Lucifer laying on his side using Diavolo as his own pillow. The Prince’s fingers ran through the dark locks of his hair, and the motion had Lucifer falling asleep soon, cuddled to the warmth of the Demon Prince, and his comforting scent.

He woke up to the coffee smell and something sweet came with it, too. Lucifer struggled to open his eyes. He was, as he always said, not a morning demon.

“Wake up, love, I have coffee and something delicious for you. Let me see those gorgeous rubies.” Diavolo kissed between his eyes, and Lucifer groaned. Diavolo chuckled. “C’mon, we made a promise to have coffee together.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and combing his hair with his fingers. A tray of small brown gooey cakes and cups of coffee sat between them. Lucifer grabbed the coffee first, and downed a big gulp, the burn was wonderful.

“Try this, Barbatos made it just hours ago.” Diavoko put a bite on his fork, and pressed it to Lucifer’s closed lips. He got a glare in response, but Lucifer rolled his eyes and opened his mouth for Diavolo to give him the sweet cake. He licked his lips, it was actually very tasty, and went well with the dark roast.

Diavolo hummed. “You’ve got a little bit riiiiight,” he pecked his cheek, “here.” They gazed into each other’s eyes, and the room got heated, the hot coffee in their belly’s fueling the fire building inside them. Suddenly, Diavolo kissed him soundly, pressing him back onto the bed. The coffee was left forgotten on the tray. Luckily the bed was big enough not to cause a spill, because there were plenty of vibrations to cause it to.

It seemed all Lucifer needed was some sleep, coffee, and Diavolo to get back to his normal self again.

__++__

Simeon

The gardens at Diavolo’s castle were in full bloom on this cool night. All the flowers, poisonous or not, looked radiant under the Devildom moon.

“Your garden is lovely.”

“Thank you, angel. Not as lovely as you but still…”

Simeon chuckled, a light blush dancing across his cheeks. “You’re such a charmer, aren’t you?”

Diavolo laughed. “I hope so.”

Simeon ran his gloved fingers over blooming bushes of dark roses. “They smell delightful, too. Like smoke and cinnamon. We don’t have flowers like this in the Celestial Realm. They all smell like…roses.”

They laughed together, sharing soft smiles while traversing the maze of the garden. Simeon reached a hand out to touch a bright orange flower that looked similar to a Daisy, but Diavolo took his hand quickly.

“Ah, don’t touch those ones. Your hand may catch fire.”

Simeon blinked. The Prince watched as his angel blushed from the simple contact of their hands. “Interesting. Thank you.”

He never thought he’d get to be with an angel, of all beings, but Simeon was different than most angels. Once the war ended and years passed, the three different realms grew closer. The exchange program ended centuries ago and ever since then Diavolo had been fascinated with this young angel so ready to help, always with a smile, and gorgeous, too. Lucifer was the one who got them together, whether he admitted it or not, with how often Simeon had come to visit him eventually Diavolo pushed his way in to know more about this beautiful creature from the heavens.

Diavolo kissed the knuckles of Simeon’s hand softly, the blue-eyed man shuddering, feeling the warmth of the demons kiss through fabric of his gloves. His angel deserved soft things (although, surprisingly, it was a different case in the bedroom) and Diavolo was always going to pamper him with soft kisses when he could.

Smiling with his eyes, Simeon gestured to a bench that say between two tall blooming bushes, varying shades of red and pink bell flowers dripping from the branches overhanging. “Let’s go sit and watch the stars?”

“Whatever my beloved wants, he shall get.”

“Diavolo…” Simeon squeezed his hand, striding to the wooden bench with Diavolo trailing behind. “You embarrass me sometimes, truly.”

“Is it such an embarrassment for me to give you the stars?”

“You’re a poet now, hm?” Simeon shook his head. But he was grinning, and when Diavolo sat down beside him, he placed his head onto the larger man’s shoulder and sighed happily. They looked upward, the smell of fragrant flowers and crisp night air surrounding them. Diavolo wrapped his arm around Simeon’s lower back to tug him in close, and breathed in his sweet scent. Peaceful.

“Never in my long live did I think I would feel love for a demon. Yet here we are. And I’m so very happy to have met you, Diavolo.”

“I’m the luckiest demon in all the realms to have such a beautiful angel in my arms to love.”

[minghaocouture]

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung X Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Modern Magic AU, Fluff Warning: Language WC: 4K+

A/N: @svtxsoju​ HAPPY HOLIDAYS BINU!!! I know it’s a bit late but here you got <333 I wub you sooooo much and I hope you have a happy new year!! Also this is the last of my simper council holiday gifts so once the new year starts i’ll go back to working on my actual requests!

“That’ll be $24.78” The rather small vile in your hand held no more than 8mm of the shiny silver liquid. It was strange, and almost looked like glittery dish soap if you had no clue what you were looking at. It wasn’t a surprise to you when your customer gasped, shocked at how much such a small amount cost. His open palm slammed down harshly on the counter that separated the two of you.

“That’s ridiculous! Vetra’s shop was selling this for $10!” At his words, you wrapped your fingers around the small vial and pulled it away from him. 

“Then go buy it at Vetra’s place, half the price for half the quality.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at the man’s attempt to have you lower your price. “Some of us actually put in the labor to make these potions, and I’ll be damned if I slaved over these vials just for some ass wipe to try and get me to dock my prices. So either buy this for $24, or get out of my shop.”

It might have seemed harsh, but you weren’t one to put up with bullshit. There were quite a few potion shops around town but very few actually made their own stock, many just buying it online and reselling it in a different container. Not you though, you put energy and so much magic into your work and you weren’t going to be haggled. At least not by some low rank vampire trash who thought he was better than everyone. 

The male bared his fangs towards you, causing you to roll your eyes. Your free hand subtly reaching down below your register and grabbing a small pure silver dagger, just to prepare for a fight just in case. Vampires were usually the ones who tried to start something, so it was left there as a precaution for yourself and your employees. 

The vampire growled, his eyes flickering over to a display of yours and you felt your heart sink. With a speed you could barely see the male had thrust his arm out, knocking the carefully put together display from the counter before he stormed out of the store.

“Get out of my way!”  You heard him shout, shoving past a customer who was trying to enter the building. 

You called out a small welcome as the door shut but didn’t bother to identify the new customer as you got to cleaning up. It wouldn’t be terrible but it was very annoying and exhausting. Placing your dagger back into its usual position before pulling your wand out of your back pocket. 

“Novis Tempus” You muttered, flicking your wand into the direction of the mess now covering the linoleum floor of your shop. You felt the magic slip from your core, travel through your fingertips, down the mahogany of your wand and seeping out from the purples and blue of the fluorite perched at the end of your wand.

Your spell slipped through the air, a small light pink aura circling the mess that had spilled. Slowly it began to change. The liquid from the spilled vials slithered back into the glass, the shattered vials stitching themselves back together, and the wood from the broken standee returning to its rightful positions. It took a few seconds but you always loved watching as it happened, and soon your display was once again perched on the countertop where it had previously been standing. 

Despite being a rather seasoned witch, the spell was advanced and took quite a bit of energy which left you rather exhausted. You were pretty grateful that your cover, a younger and much less experienced witch, named Christopher, would be arriving within the hour to take over so you could recoup the spent energy.

“Looks like I missed a party!” 

The familiar voice instantly brought a grin to your face, your eyes flickering over to be greeted by the bright shining face of your favorite customer.

“Soonyoung! I thought you weren’t gonna make it in today, you’re later than usual.” You replied, making your way over to where you kept your...commissioned items. It was rare for you to get werewolves in here, most of their species didn’t really try to tone down their transformations, they enjoyed letting out their beast once a month. Not to mention how dangerous, time consuming, and expensive making a wolfsbane potion was, which definitely made them...one of your more pricey items that you would only make if requested, so most werewolves couldn’t afford it even if they wanted to. (though if someone was really desperate and you had the time you’d probably give them the first one for free. You’re not completely heartless.)

The male jutted out his lower lip at his words being ignored, it was kind of ridiculous how adorable he was when he pouted like that. Maybe that was why you poked his buttons like that, or at least the buttons you were aware of. Despite his monthly visits, you hadn’t tried to meet him outside of work before. A shame really.

As you crouched down to the bottom shelf where you kept requests, you heard the male start up. His voice always brought a smile to your face, his mood must just be contagious. 

“I uhh missed my train?” Obviously a lie, but you weren’t going to point it out. After all, it wasn’t any of your business; he was just a customer. A very funny and endearing customer but a customer nonetheless. 

Pulling out the large circular bottle, complete with a wooden cork shoved into the neck. The light blue liquid swirled in the glass with an almost eerie glow. You doubted that you would ever get used to the aura that the wolfsbane potion gave off. Bottle in hand, you returned to your register where Soonyoung stood with a small almost nervous grin on his face. Placing the bottle down on the marble countertop, you slid it forward with a single finger.

“Well, you better head out then, before you miss your train home.” You joked, watching as the tension seemed to drift away from him. At least he seemed more comfortable now. “Same thing for next month? Doing another early payment?”

You watched Soonyoung grab the fragile bottle and slide it snuggly into the backpack he was carrying (you were honestly surprised it survived the trip home considering how you’d seen the young man run.) As he did so, he pulled out the familiar pale blue wallet that he kept inside. 

“As always! You already know my schedule so well!” He said happily, pulling out a bundle of cash and handing it over to you. “It’s on the 25th next month and I can come grab it on the 21st. Is that enough time?” 

His question caused you a brief pause, filing through a mental category of your stock. You were almost out of moonstone after the last potion so you’d need to restock and then powder that, but nothing extreme so you confirmed this with a nod and a finalization of his payment. 

“Well, I’ll see you next month then!” Considering this had been your routine for the past few months, you expected a small farewell before the bleach blond bounded from the store. So you pulled out your inventory book and began writing notes about his potion. Today was different though, as he lingered. You could feel his piercing eyes on you for a moment, just watching before he spoke up once more.

“I was...actually wondering if you were free anytime today?” You froze, your pen hovering over the parchment as your brain processed what had just been asked of you. Weighing the pros and cons of being honest with him, on one hand he was kind and you had just been thinking about what it would be like to actually befriend the male but on the other hand, this could have been a long game plan if he was some crazy killer. It was unfortunately, but you had to think of things like that, especially with the recent surge of missing persons cases. 

“No pressure! I know it’s super weird and suspicious that I’m asking buuut, you’re pretty cool and I’d actually like to get to know you! Not to be a creep, but like as a friend.” 

It was sweet, and the smile on his face was definitely inviting enough. So against your better judgement, you let out a small sigh.

“I get off at 5, think you can wait til then?” 

If his neutral face was bright, then his cheerful one was blinding. His grin stretched from ear to ear and you watched as he pumped a fist into the air out of excitement. It was honestly really sweet and made your heart flutter that he was that excited to spend time with you outside of work. 

“Yeah! I’ll hang around the district and come back when you’re off!” With that the male literally bounded out of your shop. As the door slammed shut behind him, silence surrounded you and couldn’t stop the joyful laughter from spilling from your lips.  

You helped out a few more customers before Chris arrived, but once he did you quickly got to work on preparing to leave. Doing things like going over inventory, and rearranging some things that customers had decided to touch, with just a bit more pep in your step than usual. Which Chris definitely noticed.

“Someone’s in a hurry. Usually I have to push you out the door, just so you’ll go home and rest.” You had known Chris for a few years and he of course had seen right through you. Because of this you saw no reason to defend yourself.

“Yeah, you know that Werewolf regular?”

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah, him. Well, he asked if I wanted to hang out after work,” You explained, trying to keep casual about the whole ordeal despite how excited you were. Finalizing your inventory check, you slid your work book back under the counter and when you stood up once more, Chris was smirking in your direction, rather smugly in fact. “What?”

“I was wondering when this was going to happen. He’s always making eyes at you whenever he comes in. It’s right cute.” He teased, and you were grateful that no one else was in the store to hear this. Feeling a heat rush to your face, you rolled your eyes at the male.

“Come off it Chris, He does not.”

“He does! He’s always like this!” He exclaimed, before quickly adjusting his position to show an example. Leaning one elbow on the counter he placed his cheek in his palm and just began staring at you with a sweetly intent look. You hated to admit it, but you had caught Soonyoung staring like that...once or twice, but you weren’t going to tell Chris that.

“Maybe you need to go get those eyes checked out, cause you’re seeing things.” You declared, slipping past him into the break room that was hidden past the door behind the counter. You almost cheered in relief as you heard the familiar bell ring through the store, signaling a new customer entering. Which meant that Chris wouldn’t be able to follow after you and the embarrassment would be over.

That was...not the case when you heard Chris’ cheerful voice greet the customer.

“Soonyoung! Nice to see ya! It’s been a while, you usually come in when I’m off.” 

You mind blanked and you quickly got all of your belongings together, shoving your phone in your pocket before rushing out of the break room. Only to find Soonyoung and Chris laughing cheerfully as they spoke to one another. You almost let out a physical sigh of relief when you realized it was just a regular conversation and Chris hadn’t strayed the topic over to you. 

When Soonyoung saw you though, his eyes lit up like it was some sort of holiday even though he had just seen you about an hour ago. Honestly, nothing had probably even changed about your appearance since then and yet he still looked at you like you...radiant. 

“See ya later Chris, you have my number if anything happens. Don’t burn down the store!” The male in question quickly formed a mock salute that was almost as serious as a real one, if it weren’t for the intent purpose of making fun of you. 

“Aye aye, Parental unit!”

Rolling your eyes, you gestured for Soonyoung to follow you and soon the two of you were gone. Off on an adventure that would be the first spark in a well lit fire.

***

When you left with Soonyoung, you were expecting the typical things that a guy does when he takes people out. What you got was...much different. 

He started off by taking you to get a bite to eat, you were pretty hungry after your shift and so you were pretty grateful for that. The place was pretty small, a little mom and pop shop run by some friends of his named Seungkwan and Seokmin. If you thought Soonyoung was funny, then him with his two friends was absolutely hysterical, especially when he would tell stories of their adventures and imitate his two friends. (Seungkwan was not happy about that later part). 

That’s when things took a turn.

Instead of a typical, let’s go see a movie, Soonyoung suggested a nearby gym area. Now it wasn’t really a ‘gym’, it was more of an entertainment location. It had things like rock climbings, a large number of trampolines, and even some feats of courage where you would try to jump from a singular platform to a large punching bag looking object while you were at least 20 feet off the ground (or at least that’s what it felt like once you were up there). 

Which is currently where you were, harness strapped snuggly around you and a helmet placed firmly on your head. Eyes staring out at the large gap between you and your target, your hands pressing firmly against the cold metal of the pillar that you had just climbed up.

“Going to be completely honest, Soonie! I don’t think I got this!” You called out to the male who stood below with the service tech. He was suited up quite similarly as he was preparing to go right after you, but had dared you to try it first since you’d never been here before.

“I thought you were a witch, don’t witches fly?” He called back, confusion lacing his voice. It did provide a small laugh from you. 

“Flying on a broomstick, and jumping crazy distances are two completely different things! I really don’t think I can do this!”

“Yes you can! Just scream Horanghae, it can take away all your fears!” He shouted back, earring him a rather confused look from you.

“Horanghae??”

“Horanghaaaaaae!” His voice almost tripled in volume as he confirmed the rather strange phrase, you probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he were like...a were-tiger, but he wasn’t. He was just full of surprises.

Taking a deep breath you heard him chant the phrase as you steeled yourself. With one last intake, you leaped forward with a loud scream of, what seemed to be, his favorite word. To your surprise, the distance was quite small once you were in the air and you latched onto the tube like a koala. Your was heavy and your heart was throbbing, but hearing Soonyoung go absolutely crazy below in excitement made it all worth it.

The two of you didn’t stay too much longer after that, going out into the now dark city. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten until you exited the building and were on your way to what Soonyoung was referring to as the ‘last bit’.

Now here you were, laying on your back in the middle of a park and staring up at the stars. Soonyoung was going on and on about the stars and these different constellations that his friend Wonwoo had shown him. It was...sweet, but you were only partially listening. You were conflicted, you really really liked him but...he was a customer. Wouldn’t it be weird to be crushing on a customer? Wouldn’t it? 

“And that one is my favorite because it looks like a tiger! Isn’t it cool?”

Your eyes drifted over to him as he stared up at the night sky with those bright cheerful eyes that seemed to envelop your whole being with joy. His pale blonde hair gently brushed against his forehead with every small gust of wind. The light in his brown eyes was enchanting to see, and his smile...well it was radiant. 

“Yeah...it’s beautiful.”

But you weren’t talking about the stars.

***

“And every time he’s around my heart is racing and It’s like all I can think about is him! Do you know how hard it is to help other customers when he comes into the store? It’s impossible.” It hadn’t been your intent to rant to Chris about Soonyoung, yet here you were. He had just asked if you were hanging out with the wolfman today and that sparked a 20 minute long tangent about the last 6 months that you had been spending with Soonyoung outside of work.

“You’re in love with him?”

“Chris you can’t just say the L word out loud!” You exclaimed, slapping a hand over Christopher’s mouth as if his words would call the male into the store. Chris rolled his eyes and peeled your hand off of his face before taking a grip on your shoulders. 

“Just confess to him, it’s not like he doesn’t feel the same way. I swear you could dump boiling hot soup on his lap and he would thank you just because it’s you.” Chris declared, which was absolutely ridiculous. No one would thank someone for pouring soup on them, that was a dumb analogy.

You shrugged off his hands, and propped yourself up on the countertop since there were no customers in the store. Crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a frustrated groan as your gaze lifted to the ceiling. 

“He’s still a customer, wouldn’t that be weird.” Out of the corner of your eye you could see Chris fixing you with a rather confused look. So you continued. “I mean, like what if he doesn’t like me and then it’s super awkward and he feels uncomfortable coming back into the shop? Not only would I just get to deal with a broken heart, but he could also like report us? Right? For like, being inappropriate?”

Chris snorted in disbelief at your ridiculous statement, so you turned your gaze to him and shot a glare in his direction. 

“He wouldn’t report you, dumbo. I’m telling you, just go for it. You might be pleasantly surprised with his response.”

Before you could retort, claiming that Chris was being way too optimistic for his own good, the doorbell rang and the two of you turned to greet the new customer.

“Soonyoung! What a surprise, we were just talking about you!” Your heart sunk at Chris’ words, and you shot him a dirty look, jamming your elbow harshly into his side. Which caused him to let out a loud yelp as you greeted Soonyoung. 

The male in question didn’t seem to notice anything was odd, and just beamed at the two of you as he sauntered up to the counter. The weight in your back pocket felt heavy as you watched him. It was a few days before his birthday and the two of you decided to hang out together since you wouldn’t be able to take the whole day off for his party (yes you were the boss, but it was just you and Chris and you weren’t gonna leave the poor guy alone all damn day. You weren’t heartless). He greeted Chris with a grin before turning his attention solely to you.

“Ready to head out?”

“Almost I’ve still got to fin-”

“Yup, they’re totally ready!” Chris exclaimed, shoving you towards the gap in the counter as he cut you off. “I’ve got everything under control here! Have fun kids!” Honestly it felt like he was your parent sending you off on your first date which made this all the more embarrassing. 

Soonyoung seemed to notice the conflicting words and a bright laugh left his lips, his eyes slipping shut as his smile grew with his laughter. It only took a moment for him to recover and then extend his hand towards you, and without even thinking about it you took the offered hand. You could practically feel Chris’s eyes boring into your skull, the smug look on his face saying ‘i told you so’, as the two of you left the store. 

You lead Soonyoung by the hand over to your car and he quickly climbed into the passenger side of the car. You followed much slower, pulling his gift out of your pocket before sliding into the drivers seat.

Not bothering to turn the car on yet, you turned to face him. The small black box held tightly in your hands, as if it were the only thing keeping you cemented in the moment. You almost wished you had taken one of those courage potions you sold, maybe you’d be less anxious right now, but you wanted this moment to be true to your feelings and the potion would have just muddled that up. Giving you a false sense of strength when you needed to find it on your own this time. 

“Happy Birthday Soonie.” You flashed him a small smile, passing over the tiny box. He gasped and took it from you quickly, pulling open the lid to reveal a necklace. The cord was made of leather, which would be smoother to wear than a metal chain, and a gem at the center. A piece of Tiger’s eye with a shiny golden wire wrapped intricate around the stone which kept it in place.

“It’s not much but that’s a Tiger’s eye. It wards off negative energy, dispels fears, and helps bring good luck. I mean, it had more uses than that, those are just some of them. I figured it’d be good for you since you said you were worried about starting that new job, and it’s also a tiger’s eye and I know you really like tigers, and i like you so obviously i remembered that about you. “ You continued to ramble on as Soonyoung pulled the necklace out of the box and stared at it as if you had just gifted him the most priceless gem in the world. Your heart ached as you watched him slip the cord over his neck and turn to face you. Your heart sputtered as his eyes met yours and you felt yourself practically melt in your seat when he took your hand once more.

“Was that a confession I heard? You really like me? Like...like like me?” All at once you realized what you had done, Chris would never let you hear the end of this. It was probably the worst confession in the history of confessions.

You tore your gaze away, your eyes firmly planting on the sight of his hand gripping yours. 

“I mean, yeah what’s not to like. You’re hilarious, sweet, and honestly really hot too. It’s almost ridiculous how perfect you are, and I jus-” You felt your words trail off as his free hand reached out and cupped your cheek, forcing you to look up at him once again. You almost completely combusted at the sight of his watching you as if you had hung the stars just for him.

“Would it be cheesy to say that cast a love spell on me.”

“Love spells are highly illegal.”

“Just let me be cheesy!” He pouted, but his eyes never lost that loving spark. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and you felt like time had completely come to a stand still. You knew what you wanted, and from what he said you were hopeful that he wanted the same thing.

“Soonyoung, will you...kiss me?” As soon as the question left your lips, he had taken them with his own. It was like something clicked into place as he kissed you, his lips pressing firmly against your own as his hand slid to gently grip the back of your neck. Everything was perfect, he was perfect. 

When the moment passed, he pulled away and let out a laugh.

“Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever.”

[eveningcatcher]

Main six when a customer flirts with MC

Asra

It was Valentine's day and MC and Asra decided to use this to their advantage by keeping the shop open, selling to the couples some scented candles, rose quartz and other cute gifts. Asra was just helping one of the customers choose a gift when another buyer came in.

"Don't worry," MC told Asra, "I'll help them."

They walked to the customer and, upon noticing that he shops here often, greeted them with their usual smile.

"Good evening! How can I help you?"

"Oh, hi," he smiled, "Um, do you, by any chance, sell love potions?"

"Yup, we have two left," they walked to the back of the shop, "You need only one, right?"

"Yes, yes," he said as he looked around the shop, taking a glance at everything.

"Here you go!" they smiled as they put the potion on the counter, "It's a bit pricy-"

"I don't mind," he blurted.

"Oh, good then," they smiled, as they held his hand, "There's no need to be nervous over buying a love potion, trust me, people have bought far worse things," they smiled as they took the potion, reading the price to him.

"So," they asked as they counted the money, "Who's the lucky one?"

"You," he blushed as he shoved the potion into MC's hands, nearly dropping it.

They just stared at him, confused, "For me? But... you've bought it," they tilted their head, confused. They took the potion, inspecting it. After some time, they raised their head, saying: "Oh, you don't like the bottle?" they tapped the small imperfection on the glass, "I can give you the other one if you want."

"I- that's not what I," he tried to explain, but couldn't find the right words. His mind was blank. This is not how he imagined it would go. "I'll show you," he gently held their face, leaning forward, however, he stopped as soon as he felt something slither up his leg.

With cold sweat he looked down, seeing a snake go up to his waist.

His face lost more and more colour, making it look like he was just about to faint, however, Asra quickly took Faust, shoving the potion into the man's hands.

"Sorry, we're closing," Asra said, putting on the nicest smile they could, "So, if you're done-"

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" he said, walking right out of the shop, not wanting to come back ever again.

"But weren't we supposed to work until 9?" Mc asked, gesturing at the clock ticking right at 7:30.

Asra only smiled as they locked the shop, "But shouldn't we also celebrate Valentine's?" they went back, kissing MC. "If he ever comes to the shop, let me take care of him."

"Um, sure," Mc said, putting the coins to the side, accidentally dropping three of them. "Could you start the bath while I clean the shop?"

"Of course," they helped MC pick up the coins and went upstairs, giving Faust a little treat for making that guy go away.

Julian

MC has just gotten some new goods for the shop and Julian wanted to help them unpackage all of the things. He helped you with larger boxes, however, due to his clumsiness, MC insisted to carry breakable objects themselves. They were just unpacking the empty bottles when they heard a customer coming in.

"I'm coming," MC shouted as they left Julian to organize herbs, carrying some bottles.

"Oh, it's you," they smiled as they saw the shy girl standing across them. They put the bottles on the counter, trying their best not to break them, "You wouldn't mind if I organized these real quick?"

"N-no," she responded, giving MC one of the bottles with some blue potion.

"Thank you, you're so kind," they smiled as they took the bottle, putting it on one of the higher shelves, "So, what brings you here today? Do you need more rose water? You always seem to run out of it," they giggled as they picked 2 small containers of rose water.

"No, I don't need more of it," she blushed, thinking about four bottles of that water collecting dust in her home.

"I need a love potion," she looked at MC, who gave them a questionable look, "That is, if you have any, of course!"

"I think we have just gotten some," they walked to the back of the shop, "I'll go get them."

They walked back to find Julian "organizing" minerals.

"Julian, dear, I appreciate the help, but you shouldn't mix rose quartz and kunzite," they told him as they picked some of the purple minerals, putting it in one of the empty boxes.

"Oh, those are two different things..." he muttered to himself, then changing the topic quickly, "So, what did the customer want?"

"A love potion," they smiled as they picked up one of the small bottles, "You should have seen her face, she was so embarrassed," they smiled as they picked up one of the potions as well as the box full of rose quartz, "Thank you for putting it back into its order," they blew him a kiss, going back to the customer.

"Lucky for you we have just gotten 20 of these," they smiled as they put the box filled with quartz next to the counter, "If you buy four of these, you can get the potion for a cheaper price."

"I, uh, sure," she blurted it out, giving them the whole pouch.

"Don't get me wrong," they giggled as they put the coins back into the pouch, "Potions like these are expensive, but giving that much money is just outrageous," they gave her the pouch back.

"Um," she blushed, "There should be enough to cover the sum I owed you last time..."

"Oh," they exclaimed, "I see," they gave them the potion and two rose quartzes, "Here, this should be about right."

She took the items, looking at them, then back at MC.

"Is something wrong?" they asked her with a frown on their face.

"Here," she handed them the potion, blushing like a madman.

They looked at them, then back at the potion, taking it from her hand and raising it right to their eye level.

"What? No, there is nothing-"

"Oh, you're right," they looked at the pink liquid in disbelief, "I can't believe that merchant scammed me!" they put the bottle down on the counter, "I'll have to have a serious talk with them later," they frowned, something like this has never happened before.

"I'll return the money," they took the pouch, counting the coins, "I'm so sorry for this," they started apologizing as they gave her the coins back, "I have never had a problem like this. Let's keep in contact, I'll tell you when we get the real potions. I'll have to check if this is the only scam," they said as the image of other potions came to mind.

"It, it's not about the potions," she wanted to tell them how she felt about them but decided that actions speak louder than words. She grabbed them by the collar, pulling them to her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Julian asked, shocked, as he watched the whole thing unravel.

The girl shivered at the sight of the tall doctor, "I, um, you two are," she asked, looking at MC, then back at Julian. It didn't take long for her to realise the relationship between them. "I'm so sorry," she said, backing away from the magician, "I had no idea," she blushed, taking her money and leaving the shop without saying goodbye.

Julian muttered goodbye, closing the shop. "I think we had enough for today!" he huffed, "If she ever comes back to the shop, let me know, alright?" he yawned, hugging MC.

"Um, sure," MC hugged him back, "But don't you think you were a bit rude to her?" they asked him.

"MC, think," he started, picking the potion up, "I give you a love potion," he gave them the potion, putting it in their hands, "Then," he grabbed them by the collar, in the same way, she did, "I lean to you," he let go of their collar, gently putting his hand below their chin, giving them a light peck on their lips.

After he pulled away, MC turned the brighter red than Julian's hair, muttering: "So that's what she meant," under their breath.

Nadia

"And then," Nadia mused, trailing the edge of the saucer with her index finger, "When I drank the coffee Natiqa gave me, I realised she put in salt instead of sugar."

"No way," MC laughed, "What did you do?"

"I tried my best not to spit it right across her face," she frowned, remembering the foul taste, "And so I held it in my mouth, with Nazali sitting right next to me, not knowing what was going on," she laughed at the memory, "And so I signed in the air, S-A-L-T. That's when Natiqa burst to laughter, as for Nazali, they-" Nadia wanted to continue talking, however, she heard the bell ring downstairs.

"Someone came in?" MC asked, confused, "I must have forgotten to close the shop," they stood up from their bed, walking out of the room, "I'll be right back," they smiled at Nadia as they rushed downstairs.

"Good evening sir," they looked at a man who greeted them with a smile, "What can I do for you?"

"Hi," he smiled at them, then continued, "I was wondering, do you have any love potions, by any chance?"

"Love potions," they repeated, trying to remember if they got any in the back room, "I think I have only one left, is that enough?"

"Yeah, yeah," he smiled, "One should be enough."

"Give me a moment," they said as they went to the backroom, going over the potions, trying to read through the labels in the dark. The shapes of the bottles didn't help, either, all of them were made from the same, cheap glass, the only thing that distinguished them was the scratches they had.

MC took one bottle, shook it a bit, then examined its contents. Surely enough, the liquid started to glow faint pink. They proudly walked back to the customer, "Today is your lucky day," they said happily as they put the potion in front of them, "This was the last one!"

"How great," he said, taking out his pouch, "And how much does it cost?"

"It costs 500 silver."

"That much?" he asked, surprised, "So, love potions are more expensive than sleeping potions," he smiled awkwardly.

"Well, it is supposed to make a person fall in love with you for a whole day, so it's pretty reasonable," they said with a smile, "Of course, the potion doesn't work if the person is already in love with someone. The same thing goes with the sleeping potion you took," they continued with their long explanation, "If you didn't have any problems with your sleeping routine,"

"The potion wouldn't work, right?" he finished the sentence for them.

"Yes, you're right," MC smiled, then gave him a warning, "Just be careful when using it, also, I need to explain how you use it."

"That would be great," he smiled, "I never really understood how any of this," he gestured at all of the items in the shop, "is supposed to work."

"Alright, so first, you take a bit of it, no more than 2 drops," they pretended to pour some potion, "On your hands. Next, and this is a bit tricky," they admitted, "You need to pour the remaining content on the person, or let them consume it somehow."

"In any case, it needs to get in contact with the other person?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Exactly," they nodded in agreement, "Also, the potion won't work if you try to get more than one person to love you."

"Well, I only have eyes on one person," he said, looking at the potion, then at MC, "Say, do you think I could just give it to the person I love?"

They were taken back by the question, not knowing how to respond, "Well, if you believe they would take it on their own, then sure?"

He nodded, trying to think over their answer, then, with a shy smile, gave MC the potion back. "For you," he said.

"For me?" they asked, confused, "What, why would I need it?" they hid their awkward laughter with their hand, "I'll get more in a couple of days if that's what you're suggesting."

He stared at them, dumbfounded, deciding to take more drastic measures. The lid of the potion went off easily, letting him pour a couple of drops on his hand, just how MC instructed, then, he took the battle, emptying all of its content on the magician. Both of them stood there for a moment, staring at each other awkwardly.

"If you wanted to see whether or not it worked," MC started, "You shouldn't have tried to put it on me. I already love someone," they smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry but I'm not giving any refunds."

"You, you do," he asked, disappointed, "Who are they?"

"That would be me, good sir," Nadia said as she gracefully walked down the stairs, "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, annoyed, "Look at their clothes," she gestured at MC, "They're ruined."

"Countess, I, I," he stared at her, not believing his eyes, "I'm so sorry."

"I truly hope you are," she stared at him, frowning, "However, an apology won't clean their clothes now, would it?"

He felt a strange, uncomfortable sensation as Countess stared at him. The pouch was quickly emptied, and he left, blurting out some apologies.

"How disrespectful," Nadia just sighed, closing the shop for them.

"Oh wait," MC blushed after a moment, "He didn't want to test it," they looked at Nadia, "He wanted to," they turned even redder, unable to finish their sentence.

Nadia just laughed at the scene, kissing MC on their flushed cheeks, "Took you long enough."

Muriel

It was a rainy summer evening and Muriel and MC concluded that they should use this time to organize the shop. He was sorting some of the herbs, humming some song that only he knew until Inanna started barking loudly. After listening to Inanna, he said: "You have customers," walking to the back of the shop.

Just as he left, a familiar customer entered the shop.

"Sheesh, it's pouring out here," he said as they closed their umbrella. He put it aside, right next to the entrance door, "Is it okay if I put it here?"

"Of course," MC said, putting the coins away, writing the amount on some paper, "How can I help you?"

"So, I was wondering if you had, you know," he looked to the side, "I heard about it from my friends, it's a potion, in a small bottle," he put his hands close to one another, "And it has pink liquid-"

"So, you need a love potion?" they walked to one of the shelves, taking the tiny bottle out, "This one?"

"Yes, that's the one!" he smiled happily, "So, how much will it cost?"

"Cheap price," MC said sarcastically, "Just a cheap 500 silver."

"Only 500?" he asked in the same tone as MC, "I believe you should raise it to 1500 at least!"

"Sure," MC said with a smirk, "Just because you're a common customer, you'll get the special price of 1500 silver!"

"You're joking," he asked, worried, "Right?"

MC burst into laughter, nearly dropping the potion, "Don't worry, the price stays the same."

He smiled, giving MC the coins, "Thank you so, so much! Don't worry, I know how to use it," he took the potion, giving it a little shake, "My friends explained it to me."

Just before he left, MC asked them, being unable to hold their curiosity in, "So who's the lucky one?"

He blushed at the question, debating on whether or not he should tell them now or later. After taking in a deep breath, he decided that now is the perfect opportunity. He walked back to the counter, giving them the potion back with a blush. "You are."

"Me?" they laughed awkwardly, not getting what he was implying.

He realised this and decided to kiss them to make them understand better. He grabbed them by the collar, slowly pulling them to him. Just before he was going to kiss them, he saw in the corner of his eye a huge dog. No, that's not right, dogs are smaller. He looked at the dog better, only to be greeted by Inanna who was wagging her tail, happy that she finally got some attention.

"A, A wolf?!?" he asked, pulling himself away, shaking.

"Don't worry," MC reassured them, confused by what they were trying to do just now, "She won't bring you any harm."

"Yeah..." he stared at the wolf, not feeling any better from MC's statement, "Since when do you have a wolf?"

"I never did," they laughed, "She is my boyfriend's familiar."

"Your-" he turned back to them, only to be greeted by a giant man standing right behind MC.

He didn't say anything, however, just taking a glance at his eyes made the customer realise what Muriel wanted to say. "I'll see myself out," he blurted as he walked out of the shop back into the pouring rain.

"Wait," MC shouted, "You forgot the potion!" they waited for a moment, however, the customer never came back. Just when they wanted to put potion to the side where all of the things the customers forgot are, they noticed that Muriel was right behind them. "There you are," they smiled, grabbing him by the collar, slowly pulling him down. Wait a minute. MC stopped in their tracks, remembering the gestures the customer did to them. The realization hit them, making them a blushing mess.

Muriel stared at them for a moment, then bursting into laughter. "So you've finally figured it out?"

MC blushed even more from embarrassment, "Yeah," they said as they buried their head into Muriel's chest. "Let's not speak about this ever again."

He smiled as they pat MC's head, "Sure."

Portia

Portia and MC were bored in the shop, not getting any customers, so they decided to pass the time with baking. The two of them were making a mess out of MC's kitchen, deciding to throw flour at each other, for some strange reason. Overall, they were having a good time, with a few laughs and concerning coughs from Portia who accidentally inhaled cinnamon.

"Are you alright?" they asked Portia, concerned, "Do you need water?"

It took her a bit of time to respond, but after she coughed out the cinnamon, she reassured MC with a dry voice, that she is fine. "Is the dough too dense?" she finally asked after some time.

"I think I didn't add enough of the flour," they responded, trying to get the dough off their fingers, "Maybe because most of it is in my hair," they laughed awkwardly.

She walked next to them, taking a bit of the dough between her fingers, then finally responded, "Yeah, it needs more flour. We have more downstairs, right?" she rushed out of the room, skipping few staircases at the time, "I'll get it~"

And sure enough, after a couple of moments, she's back, "There is someone downstairs," she told them as she poured a bit too much flour into the mixture.

"Oh, no one usually comes at this time," they said as they cleaned their hands, "I'll join you later," they said as they went downstairs.

"See you," Portia giggled as she watched MC go downstairs with flour in their hair.

"Oh, hey there, what can I do for you?" MC asked them, trying to look as professional as possible.

The customer tried their best to hold in their laughter from the sight of the flour-covered MC. They quickly calmed down, saying: "Do you have any love potions, by any chance?"

"Yeah, it's right over," they walked to one of the shelves, taking one of the potions back to the counter, "Here," they smiled, "I assume you know how to use it?"

They were taken back by the question, but they still gave MC a quick nod, "Yeah, yeah, of course, my... friend used it once," they gave MC a quick lie, knowing that they'll use the potion soon anyway.

"Oh, alright then. Now, I know this might turn you away from buying it," they said as they scratched the back of their head, "But just know that love potion isn't a good way to get someone to love you," they said.

"I know, I know, but I still want to give it a shot," after they read the price and gave MC the money, they collected all of their courage, offering MC the potion, "For you," they whispered, clearly not having enough courage to say it loudly.

"Are you..." MC stared at them, trying to think why they would give them the potion back. After some time, they concluded, "So you've changed your mind," they gave the customer their money back, "I know this is bad for my business, but I'm glad you didn't buy it," they smiled, "Love potion will only bring you more trouble than good."

"No," they said, "That's not what I meant," they looked at them, realising that they didn't explain themselves well. "Let me show you exactly what I meant," they took them by the hand, leaning forward and just before they could kiss MC, they felt something hit them. They turned back, only to find their shirt was stained by flour.

"What do you think you're doing, creep?" Portia asked, pissed, "Get away from them, now."

They stared at Portia in shock. How could such a small girl sound so scary? How could she even throw the empty bag of flour that fiercely? They quickly abided to her words, letting go of MC, walking a couple of steps away.

"Get out of my this shop, and I hope I never see you again."

They felt shivers run down their spine with each of Portia's words. Without even saying goodbye, they saw themselves out of the shop, not planning to return ever again.

"Seriously MC," Portia started to criticized MC as they picked up the empty bag of flour from the floor, "You need to be a lot more rigid to people like them, trust me, I've had to deal with a handful of them over the time," she straightened her back, stretching in satisfaction, "Also, I may have accidentally made three times the right amount of the dough," she laughed, "I assume that won't be a problem for us."

Lucio

"Lucio you can't just mix random potions," MC insisted, "You could seriously injure yourself," they explained as they took potions from Count's hands, putting it back to their places.

"But think about it," he persisted, "What if you could make an amazing potion out of these," he gestured at all of the potions in the shop, "But you would never know since you've never tried it!"

"Your idea might be true," they said after giving it a bit more thought, "But I know for a fact that if you were to mix some of these, nothing good would come out," they would have continued they thought if they didn't hear the door of the shop open, "Guess I have a customer," they muttered to themselves, "We can't make a new potion out of the ones that already exist, but we can make some potions from herbs after the customer leaves."

He kissed MC on the cheek, satisfied by their answer, "Can't wait."

They hugged him quickly, giving pets to Mercedes and Melchoir as they went to greet the customer.

"Hey there," they greeted her, "What can I do for you?"

"Hi," she smiled, "Do you sell those, what are they called..." she stopped for a moment, trying to remember the name, "Love stones?"

"Love stones?" they asked her, confused, "I'm sorry, but I've never heard of love stones before," they smiled, "Do you mean love potion?"

"Yes," she nodded, "That should be it."

MC went under the counter, noticing Melchoir laying there, its tail wiggling. They gave it a quick pat, picking up the potion.

"This should be it," they put it on the counter, "Five hundred silver."

"Only that much?" she asked, surprised.

"Well, it's actually a bit pricier," they admitted, "Usually potions cost around 100 silver, but this is supposed to make a person fall in love with you, and it lasts for a whole day, so the price is understandable."

"Oh, I see," she trailed off, "So it can make a person fall in love with you for an entire day," she repeated, deep in thought.

"Yeah, but after the effects are gone, the person will know what you did, so it might not be the best thing out there," MC giggled awkwardly, hoping that she would still want to buy the product.

"Here you go," she smiled, giving MC money.

They gave her the change and the potion, "Is that all you need?"

"Actually," she took a deep breath, knowing that now is her chance. She collected every ounce of courage she had, offering her the potion, "I wanted to tell you that I really, really like you," she said, however, her words couldn't be heard from Melchoir's barking.

"Sorry," they apologised, trying to calm Melchoir down, "My boyfriend's dog is a bit spoiled and they want all of the attention, don't you, cutie?" they let Melchoir jump on its two feet, licking MC's hand.

"Your boyfriend's," she repeated, devastated.

"Yes, my dog," Lucio walked next to MC, putting his golden hand over MC's shoulder, giving the girl a penetrating stare. He heard what she said.

"C-Count," she stared blankly at them. The magician she has admired for months is with the count. She screwed up, big time.

"So, what did you want to say?" MC asked them, trying to be as polite as they could.

"We're dying to know," Lucio added.

"I just, I just wanted to thank you," she came up with a lie, "I have been looking for it everywhere and couldn't find it. I'll be on my way now," she walked out, feeling the Count's gaze on her back.

"Why were you so harsh to her?" MC turned to him once the customer left.

He kissed them, giving them a tight hug, "I just heard what she wanted to say."

"I heard so too," they said with a smile, "Yet I didn't scare her off," they gave Mercedes a pet, "You could have just let me turn them down, you know?"

He stared at them, not knowing how to respond. After some time he decided to change the topic, "So, are we going to make a potion now?"

They smiled, closing the shop, "Sure."

[justletmeplayminecraft]

the three stages of impulse making friends

set in the magic misfits au collated by @haworthiaace! the origin story of how team zt adds the ‘i’. tango has a curse, zed is an elf, and impulse is a demon. could i make it anymore obvious? (yes. absolutely.)

featuring: the least conventional way to make friends, selling your soul is not a decision to take lightly, friends who will Literally die for each other, tango is ferocious when it comes to protecting zed, there’s a fair amount of work to get to a happy conclusion, but the three of ‘em manage it, impulse deserves the world, so does zed, tango... he’s on thin ice.

warnings: life or death situations, using your own blood in rituals, so kinda self harm?, conflict between characters, tango threatens impulse, they resolve things, but here’s certainly some angst before they all become friends, also it’s implied impulse didn’t have the best time as a demon, he has a breakdown, he’s soft ok, they’re making the best out of a terrible situation..

also posted on ao3, link in the replies

1. When Zedaph summons him

Zedaph steps back from the summoning circle, the charcoal staining his hand black as he puts it down. He checks every symbol twice against his book. The required items are around the edge, candles lit with his face pinched in focus. A glance down the hall confirms that Tango's bedroom door is still shut tight. There shouldn't be any interruptions. A good job too, because Zedaph's not looking forward to explaining this one.

He picks up his knife, taking a steadying breath. Zed's never really been one for blood. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't be doing this. But it's Tango. Zedaph can't lose him, no matter the cost. He presses the blade across his palm, slicing just enough for blood to bubble to the surface. He holds his hand out, droplets falling onto the intricate circles.

The symbols he spent so long drawing illuminate in a bright glow, activating like redstone. He gasps as the magic in the room whips his hair. Something tears into existence in the centre. Zedaph takes a step back from the pure magical essence.

The demon springs up in front of him. Bright yellow eyes meet his purple, and Zedaph takes in the demon they belong to. He's surprised, actually. He expected something more demonic. Not that the demon isn't demonic, of course. He has big black horns that Zed could probably spike himself on and a tail that's flicking behind him as he examines Zed. But his face is human, with pale skin and a curious expression. Zedaph thinks his dark hair might even be fluffy. And a t-shirt and jeans? Well, he's hovering sightly too, but-

"You summoned me?" The demon's voice is... Nice, actually. It's friendly, like melted chocolate. Sharp teeth show as he speaks. Zedaph nods, fiddling with his sleeves.

"I did." He tries to keep some confidence in his voice. "I want to make a deal." The demon nods, crossing his arms and sitting back slightly. It's strange seeing someone float in midair like that.

"That's what most people do. You get what your heart desires, I get your soul." Zedaph nods, dropping his eyes down to the floor. He hypes himself up, needing the confidence to commit to this. For Tango. For his best friend.

"My friend's cursed," Zedaph explains. "I want you to save him. In exchange for my soul." The demon tilts his head.

"A curse?" He sounds curious.

"We- we were messing around and upset a witch and-"

"A witch?" Zedaph tucks his arms against his chest. He nods. "I- I can't undo a witch's curse." Zedaph's heart stops.

"No!" He looks up at the demon, stepping close to the barrier circle. "You have to help him, I can't lose him. You don't understand." The demon has opened up in surprise, holding his hands out. He stares at Zed with an open mouth, yellow eyes unmoving.

"Um-" the demon glances away, "I might be able to halt the curse?" Zed jumps onto his tiptoes. "I can't remove it completely but I can lessen its effects and prevent it from spreading. Would that be sufficient for a deal?"

"He won’t get worse?" Zedaph checks.

"He won't get worse." The demon nods. Zedaph returns the gesture, determination returning.

"Then I'll do it. You can have my soul in exchange for that." The demon leans forward, holding out his hand.

"It's a deal, then." Zedaph nods. He steps carefully over the protective ring, clapping his hand into the demon's.

"It's a deal." Zed's grip on the demon's hand tightens, a choked noise escaping him as his chest erupts in pain. The demon pulls him close, his other hand resting on Zedaph's chest.

"Sorry about this part." Something is tearing, ripping at his skin. Zedaph would scream but he can't draw enough air into his lungs. For a second, everything falls away. When he opens his eyes again, he's on the cold floor. The demon has a hand on his shoulder, his other hand holding up something swirling, glowing a radiant purple. Zed can't take his eyes off it. "Are you okay?"

Zedaph nods, "Is it done? Will Tango be alright?"

"Yeah. The deal's done." Zedaph jumps up, leaping onto the demon and wrapping his arms around him tight. The demon falls back slightly, one hand wrapping around Zedaph's back with robotic movements.

"Thank you," Zedaph mumbles, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, thank you."

"Uh." The demon sounds genuinely confused. "You're welcome?" Zedaph climbs down, realising this is supposed to be a business transaction. He steps back over the circles.

"Sorry I just- you don't know how much this means for me." The demon shrugs. He claps his hands together and that ball of glowing light vanishes.

"It's part of the deal." The demon shrugs. It's like he's trying to come off cool and collected, but he still seems twitchy, a bit nervous. "Will that be all?"

"That'll be all." Zedaph makes sure to keep his next words powerful and concise. "You may go back to your dimension." The demon nods. He bows slightly.

"Pleasure doing business with you." With that, the air twists once more, and the demon vanishes. Zedaph breathes out, placing a hand on his chest. It doesn't hurt anymore. He doesn't feel any different. He was willing to sacrifice far worse for Tango's safety. This is... He feels like he's gotten off quite lightly.

Well, except Tango's wrath. He's just about cleaned up the room when he hears a door slam open.

"What did you do?" Tango demands, storming up to Zedaph. He grabs Zed's shoulders and holds him in place in front of him. Zedaph shrinks down.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean-"

"Cut the bull, Zed!" Tango glares at him. Zedaph looks into his eyes, the solid redstone. It twinkles when the light catches it, like little stars. "You did something, because I can see again, and that didn't happen on its own."

"You can see again?" Zedaph asks, quiet. He squeaks when Tango pulls him closer.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"Zedaph!" Zedaph curls away at the anger in Tango's voice, even if it's born from worry. Tango's grip holds him in place.

"I may have summoned a demon," Zedaph mumbles it, hoping Tango won't hear.

"You summoned a demon?" Tango exclaims, echoing off the walls. Zedaph takes a breath, his expression shifting as he glares at him. Tango lets go, stepping backwards with surprise.

"It's the only thing I could think of that would be more powerful than a witch's curse!" Zedaph cries, his voice high. "And it was, it worked! He stopped it!" Zedaph holds his hands out to Tango, before waving them down his body, "And I'm fine! No different! I don't think anything's changed."

"Zedaph-" Tango takes a further step back, dragging his hands down his face, "-Please tell me you didn't sell your soul." Zedaph doesn't answer. Tango groans, frustrated. "You need to undo this, you can't just-"

"I'm not going to sit here and do nothing whilst you fade away! Not when I can stop it!" He places his hands over his heart. "And I feel fine, so clearly my soul isn't that important. So just drop it, and things can go back to normal."

"This isn't-"

"I'm not changing my mind." Zedaph pokes his finger into Tango's chest. "I refuse to watch you die, Tango!" They both stare at each other, Zed focused intensely, shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breaths.

"And you don't feel anything?" Tango asks. His voice has turned softer. Zed doesn't fight when Tango rests his hand against Zed's freckled cheek. In fact, he leans into it, all of his fight draining in an instant. "You don't feel worse? No pain?" Zed shakes his head.

"I feel fine," he confirms, squeezing the hand on his cheek with his own. "I promise you. It- it hurt when he took it, but I'm okay now. I don't feel it." Tango sighs.

"Zed, you're an idiot." Zedaph laughs. He pulls Tango's hand down, squeezing it between both of his.

"So are you," Zed replies. "It's a good job we've got each other, huh?"

Tango shakes his head, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

2. When Tango summons him

Tango doesn't know how it took so long for him to realise. It's basic common sense: you can't just sell your soul without consequences. Maybe he was a bit caught up in being able to see again and not having to prepare for his impending demise that he didn't fully consider it. Zed seemed fine. He was fine. For a little while, at least.

It happened slowly. It was first in how Zed spoke. Where his hands would usually wave around in a language of their own, he was still. He stopped coming up with ideas. He yawned, slept straight through afternoons. Then his skin became paler. His ears began to droop. He wouldn't get out of bed until Tango encouraged him. Now, Tango's barely able to get him to eat. He sighs, rubbing his fingers through blond locks. Zed managed some mushroom stew before dozing off, curled up as if he's freezing despite the blankets piled on him. His skin is cold against Tango's hand.

Tango stands, leaving the room without a sound. He's had a lot of time to plan this, with Zed asleep so much. He enters the side room, the summoning circle already set up. It's been a few nights researching, making sure everything's correct. The knife handle is cool as he twirls it in his hand. Hopefully, his cursed soul is still enough to cast this.

He makes a cut across his thumb, letting blood drip down onto the circles. It lights up, the air swirling around the room as Tango stands resolute. Despite all his preparation, he's still a bit surprised it's worked. He doesn't move an inch as the demon appears in front of him. Bright yellow eyes stare into his, black horns like a crown over his head. Tango skips over the surprisingly human features. The pale skin, the fluffy hair.

"You made a deal with my friend," Tango speaks first, crossing his arms over his chest. "Blond elf, purple eyes. Pointy ears." The demon's eyes widen.

"Oh," he says. His voice is smooth and- not very demonic. Tango steels himself. "You're his cursed friend."

"Yeah," Tango replies. "You need to undo that deal." The demon tilts his head.

"Undo it?" He questions. "You realise your curse would continue, right?"

"I'm aware." Tango stares straight into his eyes. The demon shuffles a little. "You need to undo it."

"Okay but you're missing one detail," the demon tells him, mirroring Tango's crossed arms. His tail flicks behind him.

"And what's that?" Tango asks.

"You didn't make the deal." The demon shrugs, his hand up. "Only the person who made the deal can void it. And it feels like he doesn't want to." The demon looks smug, like he's caught Tango out. Tango didn't do all of this research for nothing.

"How about this," Tango starts, reaching for the spellbook he stole from Zed. "I use a binding spell," he continues, holding it up, taking care with the worn pages. If demons could feel fear, maybe it would be there in the way his eyes widen and his tail stills. "And I bind you into my service until Zed agrees to undo the deal."

"That's... A little unreasonable." The demon sounds nervous. Tango grins.

"More unreasonable than the fact my best friend is currently so tired he can barely move?" He demands, stepping forward but careful not to go over the outer circle.

"Hey." The demon holds his hands up. "He sold his soul to me willingly. He knew the consequences."

Tango scoffs, "No he didn't! He had no idea what would happen. You took advantage of him." Tango pokes his finger against the barrier. "So I'm going to take advantage of you right back." The demon shrinks away.

"Okay, okay." He slowly lowers his hands as if Tango will calm down because a demon tells him to. "How about, instead, I give you a month to get your friend to void the deal. I will stay here, no binding spell required. If he doesn't change his mind after that, I'm free to go."

"And if you leave before the month is up, I get to summon you back, bind you to me, and leave you in a salt circle to rot." Tango smirks when the demon flinches. "Sounds like a deal to me."

"Um, uh-" The demon shifts their weight around, not quite making eye contact.

"Or, I go back to my first plan." Tango draws the word out as he flicks through the book. The demon huffs.

"Fine," he declares. "I accept your terms. If I leave before the month is up you can summon me back and bind me into your service." Tango snaps the book shut.

"Then the deal is made." He can feel a ripple of magic at the statement. Nothing strong, Tango's not particularly magically inclined. Hell, it's probably the demon's own magic working against him. But it's enough to make this work. To give Zed a chance to undo this mistake. Tango steps forward, breaking the outer protective circle with his toe. "Well?" Tango holds his hand out, "Are you coming?" The demon steps forward, hesitantly leaving the circles.

"Um," the demon glances back at the smudged charcoal. "I'm not sure how this works."

Tango shrugs, "I'm not happy about it, but I guess you're living here." The demon is looking at the floor, following Tango with light steps.

"Okay." Those yellow eyes glance down a corridor. "Um, yeah. Alright." Tango sighs, looking at the awkward being. Aren't demons supposed to be scary? Or is this one trying to lower Tango's guard?

"Name's Tango," he offers, in an attempt at a truce.

"You're just going to give me it?" The demon sounds concerned.

"I'm not giving it to you," Tango replies, refusing to expand further. "What's yours?"

"Oh." The demon's tail flicks at him. "Impulse. My name's Impulse." Tango nods. He pauses at the door to Zed's room, resting a hand on the wood.

"His name's Zedaph," Tango tells him. "He's... Probably not going to be happy that I've done this behind his back. But he's- don't expect much from him. He's already so bad." Tango can't help how heavy his voice grows as he continues, the weight piling on his shoulders. Impulse nods. If Tango didn't know better, he'd say he looks guilty.

He pushes the door open. Zedaph is still buried in a blanket pile. Tango can just see a hint of pale, freckled skin, peeking out from under messy hair. He hasn't moved an inch. Impulse stills in the doorway, staring at him. Tango turns, giving him a dead look.

"What, you feel guilty now?" Impulse focuses back into his folded arms. His tail wraps around him like a pathetic shield.

"I don't- I don't like this part. I don't usually see it."

"Well-" Tango holds his hand out, mock-bowing. "-Enjoy what you've caused." He sits on the bed beside Zedaph, scratching under his chin. Impulse inches forward. "Hey, Zed, buddy." Zedaph mumbles, rolling into Tango's touch. "Come on. Can you open your eyes for me? Sit up a bit?" Zedaph whines, but he shuffles around. Then, with a bit of effort, he pushes himself up, falling against Tango's side. It's more than he's managed for days.

Zedaph opens his eyes, sees Impulse and squeaks, "Tango?"

"He's fine." Tango gestures Impulse closer. The demon still hovers apart from them, trying to tuck into the corner of the room. "He's here because you need to undo your deal." Zed's eyes narrow, the purple glinting in the light.

"I'm not doing that," Zedaph says, with no room for movement. Tango refuses to listen.

"I don't think you realise how much it's hurting me seeing you fade away like this." Tango tries not to raise his voice. "I don't want to see you suffer."

"So you want me to do the same thing?" Zedaph asks, sitting away from Tango. "You- you want me to watch this curse claim you? And do nothing?"

"It's my curse. You shouldn't get to make this choice for me."

"And it's my fault you got it!" Zedaph's voice has raised, fingers bunching up in the blankets.

"You've got so much more life in front of you-"

"And I've already lived so much of it-"

"You're being selfish, Zedaph." Zed flinches back.

"Fine then. I'm being selfish. What are you going to do about it?" Tango halts at that, not sure what to respond. He wasn't- he wasn't expecting Zedaph to do that.

"Uh-" Both heads turn as Impulse speaks. He curls into himself. "Should I leave? Go to another room or something?" He's pressed himself against one of the walls.

"Go back to your dimension," Zedaph orders. "I'm not changing my mind." Impulse sinks downwards.

"I- uh. I'm here for a month. That's what we agreed on." Zedaph spins back to Tango with fury in his eyes. Tango answers before he gets the chance to talk.

"We made a deal. One I came out on top of. He's not going anywhere." Zedaph presses his hands into his cheeks before waving them outwards.

"You can't just keep him prisoner here!" Tango scoffs. If only Zed knew about the alternative. Maybe it would've angered him enough to void this whole thing. He might have lost his friend, but Zedaph would be able to keep on living.

"He's basically our roommate for a month." Zedaph groans. He holds his hands by his head, mouth opening and closing before he manages to find words.

"I don't even know what a demon eats!" He cries. Tango squawks.

"That's what you're worried about?" Zed crosses his arms, swinging his legs out of bed. He takes a few steps towards Impulse, turning his chin up as he pouts. Tango blinks, something in his head finally clicking.

"Yes, because I'm going to be a good housemate unlike-" Tango holds his hands up.

"Wait, wait, wait, Zed." Zedaph pauses mid-rant, face shifting to confusion. It's mimicked on Impulse. "You're out of bed. Willingly." Zedaph looks down at himself, running his fingers through his hair.

"I- I am," he murmurs, like acknowledging it will break this illusion. "I'm- I don't feel tired. I-" Zedaph looks at Impulse, his eyes widening as he takes a stumbled step back. Impulse holds his hands up, shaking his head quickly.

"I haven't done anything!"

"Then- but you're the only thing that's changed." Impulse squints, clearly thinking before he gasps.

"I still have your soul," he whispers.

"You just carry that around?" Tango asks. He can't force himself to sound angry. He keeps looking at Zed like a miracle has happened.

"I hadn't turned it in yet," Impulse explains, looking like he's solving a puzzle in his head. "Being close to it must mean that it's connecting to you again. Like you still have it." Zedaph bites at his lip, fiddling with the end of his sleeves. Tango really needs to get him into some new clothes. And in the shower.

"And you're only here for a month?" Zed asks. Impulse nods. Tango wishes he could follow the conflict that crosses Zed's face. Understand how he's feeling. Whatever the result is, he stands taller, grinning. "That's a month more than I had before." Trust Zedaph and his overly optimistic attitude. "Right, out of my room. I want to change."

"You're sure that won't-"

"If I'm not out in like an hour come and check on me." Zedaph jumps on the spot, leaping to his drawers. "I've got so much I need to do!" Impulse looks at Tango. He nods.

They leave Zedaph to pick out clothes, even if Tango has to watch him for just a moment first to convince himself this is real. He closes the door after him. Impulse is waiting on the other side. He's... Small. But his face is determined.

"This doesn't change the terms of our deal," he tells Tango. "One month, then I'm free to go." Tango sighs. After all that prep too. He should've just bound the damn demon. At least then he would've got something cool out of this. But-

"Of course," he agrees. Twisting to see Zedaph's door, he shrugs. "Worst case, at least I get to spend another month with my best friend." Impulse's expression is much tighter when Tango turns back. "I'll show you around. You can use the guest room."

"Thank you." Impulse keeps a step between them as he follows Tango. "I'm sorry about this."

"I'd say it's not your fault, but-" Tango's not exactly feeling sympathy here.

"I didn't ask to be born a demon." It's the closest thing Tango's heard to anger from him so far. "We have a quota to fill, and I don't want to fail it again. This is already going to-" He waves his hands. "Sorry, you don't need to hear about all that. Give me the tour." Tango nods, continuing to lead him through the base.

If he's honest, he's not too sure what his plan is anymore.

3. When Impulse decided to stay

Demons don't hang around humans. Especially not ones they've taken souls from. It's one of the first rules, for goodness sake. Don't get attached. You have to think business first, don't start considering the consequences. Mortals are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. There's so many of them, a few souls don't change anything. They're all pretty much the same, greedy lot anyway.

It turns out, Impulse is struggling with all of that.

He's never spent time around mortals before. When the elf, Zedaph, he now knows, first summoned him, he fulfilled the deal, pushed down his guilt, and continued with his life. Then the cursed human summoned him, threatened him with one of his worst fears, and somehow negotiated it into the current situation. Living with them for a month.

He's so out of his depth.

Zedaph seems to gravitate around him naturally. Impulse is pretty sure it's because he has his soul. He's still trying to get used to the feeling being around Zedaph gives him. Warmth, like he's stood out in the sun (a feeling he can properly experience now), mixed with a singing joy. Zedaph's soul is beautiful. It might even make up for Impulse losing a month of work if he handed it in. The downside is it's so beautiful because of the person it belongs to.

Zedaph is funny. He's creative and never seems to stand still. There's a calendar on the wall with the month marked out, filled with all the things he wants to achieve. The elf is facing his impending death and he's going there grinning. Even worse, Impulse is beginning to enjoy being dragged around by the blond. He likes hearing what strange idea he's come up with, helping him build a farm or plot a prank. If it were any other situation, Impulse would like to be friends with him. But friends don't take each other's souls.

Tango, the cursed human who has an aura of Impulse's magic, is understandably standoffish. Impulse would say he feels the same, but if he's honest, he finds the human scary. First impressions count and Tango is willing to do anything for Zedaph. Even if that means imprisoning Impulse like he's some kind of object. Impulse is all too aware of it. They have a begrudging truce between them.

So Impulse tries not to let it sting when he sees how much Tango cares for Zedaph. Those quiet moments between the two of them, Tango brushing Zedaph's hair back whilst the elf sleeps, cooking each other's favourite meals, how he'll watch Zedaph when he isn't paying attention with a sad look in his eyes. Impulse wants somebody to care for him that way. Even worse, he's going to be the reason they're torn apart.

"Impulse!" Zedaph calls through the house, interrupting Impulse's thoughts. He doesn't move, curled up half-asleep on the sofa. Rushed footsteps come to a halt with a scrape. "Oh. He's asleep."

"Still surprises me that demons can." Tango's tone is drier. Impulse wills himself to stay still. Zedaph huffs, a sound he's becoming all too familiar with. The two seem to argue a lot at the moment. It doesn't appear to affect their friendship, but Impulse can feel the strain the situation is putting on them.

"Can you stop treating him like he's some kind of object already?" Zedaph sounds frustrated. Tango sighs.

"Zed, he's a demon. They're not good creatures." A quick thud.

"He's called Impulse, and I think you're being biased." The footsteps come closer. Impulse nearly jumps when a hand rubs through his hair. He reminds himself to breathe. "He's done nothing against us. I was the one who summoned him for the deal. Begged him, even. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but I think you need to reconsider your attitude." The drawn-out silence from Tango is telling.

"Fine," he finally answers. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."

Zedaph answers without pause, "I'm not." The hand brushes against his horn before withdrawing. "Did you see him when we went out to the park? It was like he'd never seen the sun before. And the ideas he comes up with. You'd love them if you ever bothered to listen." Zedaph sighs, moving away. "If things were different, I'd like to think we'd be friends."

"Yeah," Tango's voice is flat. "Unfortunately, they're not."

They aren't. But Impulse can't deny things change after that. He's sat at the table, sketching out plans for a redstone farm he'd never get to make with a book on it open beside him. Tango sits in the chair next to him. He asks what he's working on. Impulse answers. From this emerges a day-long project that they both work on, until they have a working farm and Zedaph is hugging both of them and proclaiming how cool it is.

Impulse doesn't think it's the 'if things were different' they were expecting, but it does the job.

They're two weeks in and Tango asks, "So how does your human form even work, then?" Impulse is reading a cookbook, but he places it on his chest. Zed has poked his head up from his sketches too.

"My disguise?" Impulse asks, waving his hand as he draws on it. The two have seen him use it a few times now. They seem to insist on dragging Impulse with them everywhere. Even if it's the shops.

"Yeah, like, where do your horns and tail even go, dude?" Tango points up at the now absent horns. "Are they still there? Could we bump them or?"

"It's kinda a mixture of magic," Impulse explains. "My eyes and teeth are just simple illusion magic. The horns and tail are a bit more complicated. They're still there, but not in this plane of existence. So like, just shuffled into a different one so most people can't see or touch them." Zedaph nods.

"I've heard about that," he says, turning to Tango as he explains. "It was used as a form of banishment within magical communities. They'd force you into a different plane, so you're still there but you can't interact with anything, and nobody can see you." Zedaph shakes his head at the thought, raising his shoulders in defence. "I'm glad people realise how cruel that is now."

"It's what a lot of demons use when asked to make things disappear," Impulse tells them. "The shift between planes is like second nature for us."

"So you could see things on different planes of existence?" Tango asks.

"If I wanted," Impulse answers honestly. There's no reason not to. "I don't often, though. A lot of things are hiding in those. They don't like being found."

Tango laughs, "How ominous."

"And pretty cool," Zedaph adds. It's the first time someone's called Impulse's powers 'cool'. He's surprised by the warmth it gives him.

They reach the third week. Impulse would've never said it before, but time feels like it's moving too fast. He doesn't want this month to end. He doesn't want to go back to being pushed around by other demons, spending all his time working to avoid punishment. How is he supposed to go back to taking souls knowing these are the people he could be taking them from?

The hushed conversation he caught between Tango and Zedaph keeps replaying in his mind.

"I don't want to lose you."

"I don't want to lose you either. But one of us is going to die. Even getting another month with you- that's enough for me."

At the start of the fourth week, Impulse has a complete breakdown. He shuts himself in the guest bedroom, sitting against the corner and cries like he hasn't since he was a newly born. He's not made for these kinds of moral decisions. He's been dragged into this and now it's all his fault. He's going to be the reason that the light fades from Zedaph until he's an empty shell. Why a friendship so strong is shattered. Why they both talk in gentle comforts at night as they face the inevitable.

His tears soak into the blanket beneath him, staining it black. The crying doesn't help. It doesn't solve anything. But if he has to stay in this situation without doing something he'd explode. Maybe this is his explosion. A fizzle into the night.

"Impy?" He bolts upright at Zedaph's voice, accompanied with a quiet knock.

"Yeah?" His voice cracks. He's pathetic. Clothing scrapes against the wood.

"Can I come in?" Impulse swallows, fists bunching up soft fabric. He releases one to wipe his eyes.

"Yeah- yeah, okay." The door opens, revealing the elf behind it. His ears droop as he sees Impulse and he's by his bed before the door manages to shut behind him.

"Oh, Impulse." Zedaph wraps his arms around him, pulling Impulse against his shoulder. Impulse has enough thought to vanish his horns, too afraid of scraping Zedaph by accident. "What's wrong? Please talk to me." Impulse shakes his head. Zedaph sighs, cradling him close. Impulse embraces the feeling of warm arms around him, how Zedaph's soul sings at their proximity. Zedaph simply holds him as Impulse cries, and that's all Impulse needs. And it's that realisation that has him speaking in an unsteady voice.

"I don't want to go back." Zedaph shuffles Impulse away to see his face, using his own sleeve to rub Impulse's damp cheeks.

"Go back to what, Imp?" Impulse looks into those bright purple eyes, filled with concern.

"What I was before." Being alone, he doesn't say. "I don't want to keep taking people's souls. I'm so tired of feeling like I won't be enough. I like this. I like it here." Zedaph tilts his head, one of his hands sliding down Impulse's arm.

"Do you have to go back?" Zedaph asks. Impulse pauses at the thought.

"I- I don't really know. I don't know what might happen if I don't go back." He really doesn't. Would the other demons even notice? Would they come after him? He has no idea. He's never heard of a demon... Leaving, before.

"Well, why don't you just stay here?" Zedaph asks. Impulse sits back, his brows drawing together in confusion.

"Stay here? But-"

"No buts!" Zedaph interrupts. "It's nice having you around and it's not like anybody else uses this room. What was the wording of your deal?"

"I stay here for a month for Tango to convince you to void the deal. If you don't change your mind by the end of the month, I'm free to go. If I leave before the month is up, Tango can summon me back and bind me into his service." He recites the deal automatically, eyes closing as he does. Every deal he's made is slotted away in his head somewhere, though this one is certainly closer to the front. When he opens his eyes again, he can see a hint of anger on Zedaph's face.

"I'm talking to him about that last bit," Zedaph mutters, before the anger leaves as quickly as it came. "But, it's right there in the deal. You're free to leave, not that you have to. You can stay if you wanted." Zedaph holds his hand up, moving it as he speaks. "And I'm not just saying that because you have my soul. I've made peace with my fate. I'm saying it because I've grown to think of you as a friend, and I like to see my friends happy."

"You've known me for three weeks."

"I've made friends in less time than that." Actually, Impulse doesn't doubt it. "You still have a week to go. Think about it, okay?" Impulse nods, relishing the smile that brings to Zedaph's face. "Good. Now c'mere." Zedaph pulls Impulse back into his arms. Impulse laughs, closing his eyes.

He certainly hears when Zedaph talks to Tango about it. He goes to bed early, meditating until he can't hear them anymore. They must make up after because they're fine the next time he sees them. Even if Tango shows more than a hint of guilt when he looks Impulse's way.

It takes another day until Tango brings it up. The two of them are sat at the same table they bonded over redstone.

"I'm sorry." Impulse looks up from his book, frowning.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Impulse. For threatening you and blackmailing you into this. It was wrong of me and you're a really cool dude. You didn't deserve that treatment."

"Thank you?" Impulse rests a finger on his page. "Did Zedaph put you up to this?" Tango sighs, sinking onto his palm.

"He strongly suggested I should, but no. I'm doing this because I was an ass, and I'm not going to ignore that anymore." Impulse smiles slightly.

"Just a bit," he replies. Tango seems surprised, and Impulse realises he's not really been playful with them before. Then Tango breaks into a grin.

"You know, I was going to say I wouldn't mind you sticking around. I take it all back now." Then, as if detecting Impulse's worry, he quickly adds, "That's a joke, by the way. I'd love it if you stuck around. Just like I know Zed would, because he hasn't shut up about it these past few days."

"He hasn't?" Impulse asks.

"Nope. He's super excited at the idea of a new roomie. We don't mind what you choose either way. I know I've treated you pretty badly. But, yeah. We'd both be happy if you stayed." Impulse nods. But he gives the same answer as he did to Zedaph.

"I'll think about it."

He does. He really really does. It's all he can think about as the days move far too fast until they reach the evening the deal comes to an end. Impulse can feel the magic buzzing in the air. He thinks the other two can as well. Zedaph is fairly attuned to magic, though he admits it's easier when Impulse is close by. Whereas Tango is involved in the deal. The air is thick with the stuff. Magic. Magic and tension. 

They cook together that evening. The food here is far better than what's in his dimension. Zedaph and Tango have two very different styles of cooking that seem to blend somewhere in the middle. Impulse wishes he knew how to cook better, but he's happy learning from them. They seem to enjoy teaching him, too, if Zedaph's bouncing is anything to go by. All cooked, they settle by the fire, plates balanced on their laps. Zedaph has burrowed under a blanket.

Impulse can't look at either of them when he asks, "You really wouldn't mind if I stayed?" He can feel them watching him.

"No, why would we?" Zedaph leans forward, nearly straight into his food. "You've been a better housemate then Tango is."

"Hey!" Impulse looks up to see Tango crossing his arms.

"He does the washing up," Zedaph replies.

"So do I!"

"Once I bully you into it."

Impulse smiles, "You really mean it?"

"We're more than happy for you to live with us. Hey, we'll put you on the deed for the house if that's what it takes." Tango leans on the arm of his chair towards him.

"Yeah. I think that'd be nice," Impulse can't help but tease a bit.

"Do we even have the documents for this place?" Zedaph asks.

"I have no idea." Tango shrugs. "But Impulse is living with us either way now."

"And he's adopting your sense of humour." Zedaph sighs, falling over the back of the sofa, an arm over his forehead. "Outnumbered in my own home."

"Our home." Tango smiles at Impulse.

"Yep," Impulse agrees. "Our home now."

It's not until later that night, as they head to their rooms, that Zedaph wraps his arms around Impulse just like he did the first time he summoned him. This time, Impulse hugs him back just as tight.

"You know, if I could still cry, I probably would," Tango tells him. He wraps his arms around them both.

"That's 'cause you're a sap," Zedaph murmurs from Impulse's hair as if he isn't crying himself.

"Only for my friends," Tango replies. Impulse laughs, ready to start crying too.

"Yeah." He tugs the two closer. "Wow, I’ve made friends."

"You're stuck with us," Zedaph tells him brightly.

"Not literally," Tango amends.

Impulse shakes his head, his smile hurting his jaw, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

They wake up in the morning in the same house. The world doesn't end. Nobody's bashing at their door.

Impulse stays with his friends.

[kerikaaria]

Borahae Slimes Haul #4!

Oh hey look at me doing this within a more timely fashion than the others haha. I ordered every slime from this restock, so get ready for a really long one!

LOOK AT ALL THAT STUFF! All seven slimes: What’s Your Dream, The Most Beautiful Moment In Life, Lost in a Maze, U Wrong Me Right Ddaeng, Shine Dream Smile, Beautiful Prison, and Not Seven With You. Plus EXTRA candies and goodies because Dean went all out for the anniversary, the photocards and stickers, a thank you card and even a recommended playlist of a bunch of BTS’ most-loved songs over the years! To say I was excited to dig in is an understatement! I was in the middle of getting ready to move (in less than a week at the time I got the package) but I couldn’t help but get into these gorgeous slimes immediately!

As always, you can check out the Instagram (BorahaeSlimes) or blog (@borahaeslimes) for updates! Items are on sale on the Etsy shop by the same name whenever a new restock is up. Dean has been selling out INSTANTLY so be ready to buy at launch to make sure you don’t miss out on the slimes you want! And of course, if you are 18 or older, Dean writes some really awesome mxm fics over at @eternalseokjin​! Alright, time to get into the slimes!

Also, I’M SORRY I can’t make the pictures side by side.... I tried editing on mobile to do that but tumblr is dumb and keeps giving me an error and not making the changes v.v

What’s Your Dream

What’s Your Dream is based off of BTS’ debut song, No More Dream. It smells very much of a teenage boy who loves his cologne a little too much (kudos to Dean for making it a smell I can enjoy even though I usually hate cologne smells XD). The bingsu and little crystals give it a lovely texture. Even if I don’t have too much to say about some of the slimes, they’re all really great! 

The Most Beautiful Moment In Life

The Most Beautiful Moment In Life is of course inspired by the albums of the same name, and the storyline they started. I had to ask Dean how what I was supposed to do with a “jelly float” slime because I was confused lol. It was kinda cool to see the gray slime just float inside of the clear red before mixing it :) When mixed, it’s still very much a red color, just a little deeper and less clear. The smell is kind of confusing to explain. Dean describes it as “the grey city streets and the sweetness of dying youth.” It does have a bit of an underlying sweetness to the smell, and I think the other part is reminding me of an incense? Overall a very unique and pleasing smell! (Also the charms were perfect and I love the lollipops!)

Lost in a Maze

Lost in a Maze is based off of Young Forever and is a basic slime with a mini fence and some feathers for accessories. I didn’t dare let those feathers anywhere near the slime (lol), but the items certainly match the song! The smell is very soft and refreshing, so it’s a great slime for someone who wants something simple!

U Wrong, Me Right, Ddaeng

This slime was one of the ones I enjoyed the most! U Wrong, Me Right, Ddaeng is based on Ddaeng and is one of his more intricate slimes. The overall texture is so nice and the little pops of color still show through the black really easily even after being fully mixed. The smell is kind of musky. Definitely similar to an incense but personally it reminds me of some of my family’s birthday and holiday parties growing up. I had some relatives who smoked a lot and kept their house completely closed off so those smells would kinda just stick around... That sounds really gross but I promise this scent is a much cleaner smell! The slight muskiness to it just reminds me of that. :)

Shine, Dream, Smile

Shine, Dream, Smile is GORGEOUS. LOOK AT HER. SO BEAUTIFUL. So much glitter and sequins and just uuuggghhhh I love it! Definitely very fitting for a slime based on Mikrokosmos! The purple is so pretty while staying very clear, and it has a very clean, light smell that just puts a smile on my face.

Beautiful Prison

Next up is Beautiful Prison, inspired by ON. When I tell you I had a mini freak out when I saw the state that my slime came in.... It was by no fault of Dean’s! But the clay topper settled a tiny bit into the slime and there was a thin layer of slime covering it. I was so worried! But then I started to very lightly scratch at it and I luckily was able to uncover the topper good enough to get some good pics! When I say that cracking the clay topper is satisfying, I mean it. I’m not a fan of ASMR (it gives me the wrong kind of shivers, more like the kind you get from nails scratching a chalkboard lol), but those little cracking sounds were so satisfying to hear even as I felt bad for destroying that beautiful piece of art. It’s hard to describe the scent, but it is a soft, kind of nature-like smell and I really like it!

Not Seven With You

The SHOWSTOPPER of the release! Not Seven With You is of course, based on We Are Bulletproof: The Eternal and it is AMAZING! So much detail and thought went into this beauty! I was SO upset when the slime was too sticky (because it was HOT that week) when I took it out to put the clay checkboard in the bottom because that meant I’d have to let it sit overnight for the bubbles to come out. But I patiently waited until it was clear enough to get a decent picture. Not perfect, but that’s because I was just too excited to finish playing with it the next morning!

The cloud slimes that come with it provide the lilac and lily scents, and it smells so soft and beautiful! I took my time to play around with it before fully mixing. It’s just so pretty!

When I finally took all the slime out and began to mix, I felt bad for ruining that clay (once again lol) and would have missed the cloud slime texture if I didn’t get some more cloud slime as the free extra! It looked really cool and marbled as I mixed it, so of course I took another picture of that. The ending color is a purple-tinted grey because the black from the checkerboard is just too overpowering. But you’re left with a TON of slime and it’s such an AWESOME texture! I seriously adore it! It’s soft and smooth from the clay, and also airy from the cloud slimes. Kind of like a butter slime, but lighter and softer! This slime was SO AMAZING! My only regret is that I can’t undo the mixing to play with all the individual parts again lol.

Extra Slime

For the extra slime, Dean gave me a white little cloud slime that smells sweet, kind of like bubblegum! I love playing with it because I adore the soft, fluffy texture of cloud slime now that I’ve had a taste of it!

So that’s it! Another AMAZING release from the one and only Dean! Check out the shop on Instagram or here on tumblr for updates when new releases will be coming so you can be sure to get some of his amazing slimes next time! 

Also, here’s a bonus. As I mentioned at the beginning, I recently moved. And I got some shelves set up to proudly display all the slimes I’ve gotten from Dean. Here’s a picture of that!

[tigressaofkanjis]

Immortals Fenyx Rising

Day 2 review of Immortals Fenyx Rising: I love this. 

Unpopular opinion: I love this more than Breath of the Wild.

Want to know why?

I knew some of the reviews for this game ahead of time and someone commented the voice acting was terrible. They were wrong. I personally enjoy how it's laid out for several reasons. 

Everyone speaks in an accent except one character and no, the main character Fenyx also speaks in an unknown accent too that could be older Greek or Roman due to the indistinguishability of it. Hell, even Typhon has an accent though his is kind of harder to hear because his dark voice (love it btw) doesn’t make a lot of room for syllable pronunciation but he does roll some letters. 

Zeus and Prometheus tell your tale and you play during that tale meaning you hear them narrating you. Now there are a few moments where this may be annoying but overall it’s hilarious because they bicker like crazy and Prometheus actually gives good brief comments on certain items, places, and creatures you encounter which is, for the most part, accurate to the real myths. To top it all off in the meta sense, Prometheus is telling Zeus about EVERYTHING you do even if you can’t hear him narrating which becomes ten times funnier when you realize if you play like BOTW and do stupid shit instead of actual story or quests, injure yourself stupidly, or try to do things people will probably criticize you for as the dumbass you are or can be, technically Prometheus is recounting all of it to Zeus. Yes, your life story/gameplay is part of the tale and your tale is about you being an idiot for hours on end.

The story and overall gameplay is pretty good and it certainly makes things easier to obtain for health and stamina than BOTW. It also has cool collectibles and I mentioned in another post the scenery is GORGEOUS. Like everything in the foreground and background is detailed; you can really tell they made a very good effort with this game and it’s breathtakingly worth the money I bought it for. 

Typhon is my favorite villain now aside from Metal Kor from Jak and Daxter series. He’s a ham, and I would fuck him. For real though, he’s a lot more active than I thought he was going to be. 

Unlike most villains in games who you either hear of, see briefly, or encounter once than fight to the end of the game to even see them again, Typhon actually has a role in the gameplay frequently. He himself doesn’t appear a lot but randomly he will comment on your journey which will be indicated by the sky growing darker and his mountain of Tartaros glowing. 

If you draw attention to yourself, he will create wraith zones which spawn enemies nearly everywhere and he will hurl lava rocks at you. Wraith zones move towards you if you leave the area meaning he seeks you out. If you get far enough away, he’ll stop his assault. But if you just move out of the zone and stay close for an item, he will move the zone towards you and his assault will try to kill you.

Typhon has a great design. I actually like this version of Typhon more than even his original mythology design. He also makes pretty good points in some of his commentary, thinks he’s perfect and apparently has accepted his ghastly appearance as a thing of beauty (Aphrodite eat your heart out), and he even lampshades he understands his own problems but unlike the other Gods, he was willing to work with his flaws to improve himself into perfection which I don’t think I’ve ever heard a villain do before to be honest.

The vaults of Tartaros are puzzle vaults but you would expect them to be fire and brimstone but they are actually floating structures in a spatial nebula and certain vaults have Typhon designed in the form of a nebula watching over you, his eyes glowing purple. It’s really cool. Turns out at the start of the vault, he will be prominent but as you make your way through them if you look at the nebula of him, his eyes will begin to fade in and out as if he’s losing power over the vault. Also a cool little detail.

The boss battles range from mythical, wraiths, and lieutenants. They are awesome.

Mythicals are four monsters of famous lore (i.e. Medusa) who are found one in each section of the four main lands surrounding the Gates of Tartaros. Make sure you have a lot of health and power because I took on Ozomene  the Hurricane at low and it took almost an hour. Basically, if you do decide to fight at such a low level, find a place you can’t get hit by the boss and pick their moments of weakness (Ozomene turns crystal to rest) to hit them. This strategy will take longer to defeat them but it’s better than getting one hit K.O.’d which they can do really easily.

Wraiths are fallen heros (i.e. Achilles, who also was hard as shit/prancing motherfucker) who are located in each section. Wraith zones as mentioned are when Typhon sends more enemies. Well, wraith zones can be spawn points for clones of the Wraiths to come and fight you which are like secondary boss battles but they can spawn multiple times. In order to make wraith zones less frustrating, you need to go to a wraith vault and face off against the real version of the fallen hero. Once they are defeated, wraith zones should only spawn natural enemies making your journey so much easier.

Lieutenants are monsters and beasts of lore (i.e. the Nemean Lion Herakles/Hercules fought as one of the 12 Labors) that can be found throughout the island. Prometheus will give a brief insight of their lore in case you didn’t know why each beast is significant when you get close enough to them. They aren’t as powerful but they are a very great addition to the game.

You can really tell that the creators and game developers did all their research when making this game. So if you love Greek mythos, this is a game you really should check out. I should mention there are a few comments slash mythos that aren’t entirely accurate per say but considering what they entail and the fact the developers are trying to sell to a good portion of the 10+ audience as well, these little snafus of information are very forgivable and were probably changed because of the context. Others may just have been changed because in order to explain them, it would take so much dialogue from Prometheus and they didn’t want to annoy you with unnecessary back seat narration that didn’t move the story along which is also reasonable.

So yeah, check this game out. It’s really enjoyable and I’ve had no real complaints on my end about it which is saying something because I am really picky with video games. An absolute stickler for detail.

[dreamingwithbts]

Demon (Boku No Hero) - Chapter 12

Warning: Swearing

”Huh? Uraraka?” Katsuki says confused. “Don’t tell me....you don’t even know your classmate?!” I ask him shocked. “Oh, she is?” He asks confused while I still look shock. “Yes!” I answer him and I see Ochaco freeze behind him. “Are you Aka?” I hear and Katsuki and I look behind me seeing the Hatsume girl. “Yes.” I answer her serious. “Oh good! Actually...” She says excited. “I wouldn't be excited if I was you, I’m going to beat you through the ground.” I say glaring at her and I can see all her excitement leaving her eyes, and then she leaves smiling again like I didn’t threat her. “Weird girl.” I say. “Just like you.” Katsuki jokes. “Shut up time bomb!” I say. Then I look back to the board and I could see recreation write in it. “All right! Let’s leave the tournament aside for a momentary interlude!” I hear Present Mic and I look confused at Katsuki who also looks back confused, firework going on the background. “Let’s have fun with the recreation! First is the scavenger hunt!” Present Mic continues. “I’m really not in the mood for kids games....” I say looking at my classmates playing and laughing, so I went to the waiting room we were at the beginning and I see a very scared looking broccoli. “Izu-kun?” I ask him poking his shoulder scared that he was broken. “I’m dead....” He says and I laugh hugging him. “Probably.” I say teasing him. “AKA-CHAN!” He cries making me laugh more. “You’re going against the purple hair dude right?” I ask him now serious and he nods. “I think he has some mental Quirk, something about compelling people. Be careful.” I say to him. “I will. Thanks Aka-chan.” He says smiling at me still nervous, and I leave him with Ojiro who was explaining to him what the purple dude did to him. “Katsuki? What are doing?” I came back to the stadium only to see Katsuki with his face against the wall. “Nothing.” He answers and we look at each other. “And you say I’m the weird one.” I say serious. “SHUT UP!” He screams.

The time for the battles came fast, and you could feel everyone was nervous and serious. “Hey guys, are you ready?!” Present Mic screams and everyone at the stadium screams. “A lot’s happened, but it’s now come to this! A serious battle!” Present Mic continues. “You can do this Akuma. You can win this. You can only depend on yourself!” I think determined. I walk with my classmates and thankfully the girls and I are back to our training uniforms and I return Katsuki jacket blushing. “It smells like her.” Katsuki thinks smiling when he wears his jacket again. “Match number one! From the hero course, it’s Izuku Midoriya! Versus...From general studies, it’s Hitoshi Shinso!” Present Mic screams and I look at them through the screen. “Good luck Izu-kun!” I think. “Stupid Deku is going to lose.” Katsuki says sitting next to me. “SHUT UP!” I say punching his head. “YOUR STUPID DEMON! STOP!” He screams while I keep punching him. “Did he froze? Shit! I fucking warn him!” I think nervous watching the match. “GET OUT OF IT DAMMIT!” I scream getting up my seat only for Katsuki to pull be back down. “Calm down Akuma.” He says calmly. “His fucking being brainwashed!” I say nervous. “So the purple dude has a brainwashing Quirk?” Katsuki asks me. “Ya, I think so.” I answer him.

I was almost biting my nails off watching Izuku battle but at the end I sigh in relief. “Shinso is out of bounds! Midoriya advances to round two!” I heard Midnight declaring Izuku as the winner. “Yes!” I celebrate and Ochaco joins me sighting in relief. “In the finals, the first person to advance to the second round is Izuku Midoriya from Class A!” Present Mic screams. “I was so nervous.” I hear Ochaco say. “Me too, me too.” I think now relaxing then I hear Katsuki insulting Kaminari then a break comes, and I get up. “Where are you going?” Katsuki asks me. “I’m going to buy some chocolate from the vending machine.” I told him and he gets up. “I’m going with you.” He says and we both leave together. Katsuki and I were silently walking in the corridor me with my chocolate on my mouth until we see Shoto leaving his Dad, Endeavor behind. “Came here to annoy your son again, Endeavor.” I say darkly, getting my chocolate out of my mouth and glaring at the flame men. “Who knew U.A. would accept someone like you, Akuma.” He says also glaring at me. “Who knew the world would accept a hero who is a shit Dad.” I attack back. “Go back to the hole you came from and leave Shoto alone.” I say, Katsuki and I are now passing by him and I could feel Katsuki eyes on me. “At least Shoto knows who his biological father is.” Endeavor says, and I could feel him smirk while I froze in the corridor, eyes big in shock. “Akuma?” Katsuki whispers my name confused. “I prefer not to know my father and have you as one.” I say looking down and a shadow on my face I start walking again, away from an angry Endeavor and thankfully Katsuki didn’t ask me anything, and we went back to the others seeing Izuku also arriving, and I jump on his back hugging him. “Congratulations Izu-kun!” I say to him happy again. “Thanks Aka-chan!” He says smiling. “Are you sitting with us?” He says gesturing to Ochaco and Lida who were waiting. “Let’s go demon. Get out of the way, Deku.” Katsuki says taking the back of my uniform jacket and taking me with him. “Guess not, sorry Izu-kun.” I say and Izuku only smile nervous at us and Katsuki sits us fair away from Izuku. “Jealous pomeranian.” I tease him. “Shut up.” He says angry. “Next battle is...from the hero course, it’s Hanta Sero versus also from the hero course, it’s Shoto Todoroki!” Present Mic informs the second battle and I see Katsuki watching them very serious. “Why does he have to look so hot?” I think. “Shoto is going to win this in seconds.” I say and just I say that, a huge ice wall was covering half of the stadium. “Sero is immobilized! Todoroki advances to the second round!” Midnight says announcing the second winner. “Told ya.” I say seeing everyone shocked face even Katsuki. After Shoto battle came Kaminari versus Shiozaki wish Shiozaki wins everyone was watching the battle but got distracted and annoyed by Izuku mumble while he writes on his little book. “Izu-kun...”I tried calling him after seeing Katsuki pissed off face. “Izuku stop before Katsuki actually kills you right now!” I whisper only for Katsuki to glare at me then Ochaco actually makes him stop. “God bless this woman.” I think sighting in relief seeing Katsuki face back to normal then someone came telling me it was time for my battle, so I get up. “You better win demon.” Katsuki says smirking. “You know I will.” I smirk back. “Good luck Aka-chan.” Izuku says when I pass by him with Ochaco beside him with her thumbs up. “Thanks.” I say and leave.

“You can do this, you can do this. You won’t lose control.” I whisper to myself nervous. “Hey!” I hear a familiar face and I see Dad in his skinny form. “Dad.” I say smiling at him. “Are you nervous?” He asks me. “A little.” I answer him honestly. “You’re afraid something may happen?” He asks me, both of us remembering the U.S.J. incident. “Yes.” I answer him honestly. “That day in the infirmary room, you told me you wanted to embrace that side and used for good. Then do it. This is your chance. I believe in you!” Dad encourages me, smiling big making me feel better. “Thank you Dad!” I say smiling, tears on my eyes when Dad hugs me tight. “I have to go, good luck my daughter.” He says leaving the hug and I walk to the battle centre emotionless and observe my opponent Mei Hatsume. “Now, it’s time for the fourth match!” Present Mic says. “She’s the demon of U.A.! One of the strongest from the class A! From the hero course, it’s Akuma Aka!” Present Mic presents me. “Really? Demon of U.A.?” I think nervous. “Versus...Fully-equiped with support items! From the support course, it’s Mei Hatsume!” Present Mic says, and I see her smiling at me. “She’s against the support course, huh?” Jiro says to her classmates. “I wonder what kind of fight it’ll be?” Tsu says and surprisingly Katsuki responds. ”Akuma is going to beat her fast.” He says serious looking at the red and black hair girl. “Kaachan...” Izuku whispers. Then my battle started, I waited for her to attack first for my surprise she starts talking to a mic. “Isn’t this wonderful, Aka-chan?” She asks excited. “What?” I think confused then she starts presenting her gadgets like I wasn’t even here, and I start getting angry. “Is...Is she selling her stuff instead of fighting with me?“ I think a dark aura surround me. “Aka is getting fed up.” Aizawa-sensei says knowing his student and Present Mic agrees seeing her reaction. “Aka-chan is getting angry.” Izuku says seeing a dark aura coming out of his friend. “Serves her right.” Katsuki says towards the pink girl. “ENOUGH!” I yell and Mei stops selling her gadgets and the stadium goes silence. “I’M NOT HERE TO FUCKING LISTENING TO YOU SELLING YOUR STUFF!” I yell. “If you don’t want to battle then I’m going to finish it right now.” I say glaring at the pink hair girl who looks at me shocked. “What?” She asks, then my red mist surrounds me and I sent her a hex bolt, but she uses her boots to fly away. “She missed!” Izuku says shocked. “Look closer dumber.” Katsuki says and everyone leans closed. “Got you.” I say teleporting myself behind her exactly like I predicted and kick her back hard making her hit the ground out of bounds, making some of her gadgets broke. “Next time, don’t explain your gadgets to the enemy.” I say. “No! My gadgets!” The girl says sad. “H-Hatsume is out of bounds. Aka advances to the second round!” Midnight says and I leave the battle centre. “Woah!” My classmates say and all the stadium goes nuts. “She really got you angry...”All Might thinks. “I like this kid! Can’t wait for your next fight kid.” A hero laughs watching the girl. “That’s what you get when you get the demon angry!” Present Mic screams. “Shut up.” I hear Aizawa-sensei saying towards Mic. “Sorry, sorry!” He says.

I got back to my seat next to Katsuki and my classmates congratulations me on my winning. “Thanks guys!” I smile to them but then sigh in disappointment. “What?” Katsuki asks me. “That was hardly a fight.... so disappointed!” I complain but I see Katsuki smile at me. “Stupid. She was getting on my nervous.” He says making me laugh. “I wish you battle her instead, it would be so funny!” I say imagining everything. “Tch.” Katsuki says, but I could still see him smiling, and then we watch the next battles until Katsuki battle came. “Do your best, Katsuki!” I say smiling at him who smirks. “Just watch me demon.” He says and walks out then he and Ochaco was face to face. “Poor you Ochaco, but go girl!” I think even knowing that she won’t win, I know she won’t give up easily. “The eighth and last match of the first round! From the hero course, it’s Katsuki Bakugo versus from the hero course, it’s Ochaco Uraraka!” Present Mic says. “Why is he making that face?” I ask out loud laughing seeing Katsuki making a weird face while Izuku looks at me nervous then they start the battle. “This is going to be a really tough battle. Please don’t kill her Katsuki!” I think.

Note: Hope you like it! New chapter every Friday!

Tag List: @holaaaf

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Sweet Fluff

Because I am a dumb, I accidentally answered this request privately before finishing the fic, so here it is!

For the phenomenal darling @blackpennyforrester​, TodoMomo feature flower crowns and swooning Shoto! I took a few creative liberties but I made sure to keep in the main things you were looking for! Hopefully this delivers that TodoMomo goodness you were looking for~!

Bonding experiences, as far as Momo was concerned, were a necessity when it came to assuring their success in their future field. As Pro Heros, they would need to understand the basics of teamwork and have some sense of comradery with others in their field, as well as other relevant civil servants. While they were simply students now, these were life skills that would be of use to them for years to come! And considering they'd most likely still be collaborating with one another once they graduated and started working in the field properly, it only made sense they would improve their relationships while they had the free time to do so!

It certainly wasn’t just an excuse to spend some time doing fun activities with her friends. That would be frivolous.

When she’d wandered into the 2-A dorms to find one of their underclassmen settled on the couch, openly weeping and spouting flowers from every patch of exposed skin on her, she’d been a little taken aback. The underclassman had apparently come to confess to one of their male peers in Class 2-B and, whoever they were, had rejected her promptly. Tooru and Mina had seen the whole scene in passing and insisted on bringing her to their dorm building so she could calm down some. Not long after that had been when Momo returned from the campus library. Evidently the flowers had something to do with her - Fujiwara Hanako, as she introduced herself between sniffles - Quirk. She had small, earth-like patches in her skin that she could sprout various types of flora at a whim. When Hanako became overly emotional, though, her ability to control her powers went a bit haywire.

Once they’d managed to calm her down, Kyoka and Iida were tasked with escorting her back to her classes' dorms while the rest of the present students tried to figure out what to do with the petaled army she’d left in her wake.

“Oh! Oh!” Tooru squealed, flailing her arms about wildly, “I know exactly what we should do with them!”

“Sell them!” Ochako said happily.

“No, silly! We can make flower jewelry with them!” she corrected, already starting to grab a handful of the flowers.

Mina gasped excitedly and lunged towards the pile herself. “You’re so right! Okay, if there are any orange cosmos in there, hand them over! I’m gonna make the cutest necklace you’ve ever seen!”

“There’s enough here to make an entire jewelry set for basically everyone in class, kero,” Tsu chimed as she walked around the couch to join them. She started rummaging through the bright, colorful offering before producing a flower and giggling. “Wow, she even made lotus blossoms, kero!”

Kaminari, who had been loitering behind the couch during the whole scene, wandered around as well. “You weren’t kidding with this, huh? Welp, may as well come down and help you guys out,” he hummed, settling in between Mina and Tsu.

“Kaminari, you know how to make flower jewelry?” Tooru gasped excitedly.

He grinned and jerked a thumb at himself. “I have two little sisters at home so I learned a lot about this kind of stuff. And not to brag, but I can also braid hair like a boss!”

Momo frowned. “If we are going to be making jewelry with her flowers like this, we should also make a few pieces for Fujiwara-Chan. It would be a good way for us to show our support in case she needs advice or comfort again,” she pointed out.

Ochako giggled as she scooted a bit closer to Tsu and patted the spot beside her in invitation. “That’s a great idea, Yaomomo! We can make jewelry for everyone else in the class, too! So that she knows that Class A always has her back!” she giggled.

“I call dibs on making stuff Bakugo and Kirishima and Sero!” Mina gasped excitedly.

“What? Dude, no fair! Me and Sero are total bros! If anyone gets to make something for him, it’s me!” Kaminari argued.

“Aw, are you jealous?”

“You already get to make for two of my other bros, you can’t take Sero too!”

As they all settled into work, casual chatter continued on with the occasional playful jab here and there. Momo started with the flower goods for Fujiwara-Chan - making a flower crown, bracelet and necklace using the softest colors she could find and taking a few suggestions from Aoyama on how to help it stand out- before moving on to her own. The longer they worked, the more of their peers trickled out to help make the floral items. Almost all of their class was settled in to work on the little goodies, only three members of their class missing. While Tooru and Mina worked on teaching Kirishima, Ojiro and Shoji how to make bracelets, Ochako updated the rest of their peers of what had led to the flower invasion. Sato had been quick to scamper to the kitchen, insisting he’d make some kind of baked treat to offer the other student. Tokoyami, Sero and Midoriya began trying to figure out who in the Fujiwara could have possibly been confessing to while Bakugo shared some rather colorful opinions about whoever it happened to be.

A part of Momo was almost startled at how personally Bakugo seemed to take their underclassmen’s rejection, but she supposed it made sense. She’d learned very quickly that the abrasive young man tended to respect people willing to take risks and prove their courage. While a love confession was a rather mundane thing, it still did take a lot of conviction to do. At some point, insisting he wanted to prove that he could, in fact, style hair like he’d claimed, Kaminari settled in behind Momo to use her as his example. He had carefully tugged her hair from the tight bun she’d tied it into while studying and gotten to work carefully entwining her hair with the crown settled on her hair in such a way that it didn’t snag or tangle with the flowers.

She finished her own set up before reaching out to grab a few more flowers; rindou flowers, white roses, and yellow pansies to weave into the next item on her mental list. She used the rindou flowers at the front, weaving three of them together before alternating between the roses and pansies to complete the crown. Kaminari whistled as she finished it off, holding it up to preen at her creation. “That’s amazing, Yaomomo!” he chuckled before they all perked up as the front door opened.

Kyoka and Iida wandered back over to them. “Ah, how was Fujiwara-Chan?” Momo asked worriedly, setting her most recently completed crown aside.

“She was still rather upset but insisted that she’d be fine on her own,” Iida said. Then, he scowled and chopped one of his hands through the air. “I am rather disappointed that one of Class B’s students would give her such a callous brush off, though! As both upperclassmen and Heroics students, they should have been much kinder in turning her down!”

Mina frowned. “She still wouldn’t say who it was?”

Kyoka sighed and shrugged with a shake of her head. “She tried to tell us but then she got too upset and we really didn’t want her setting up in another fit of tears. I mean, it seemed like she was already starting to get some backlash from overdoing it with her Quirk when she was here,” she explained. She then perked up when she saw the multiple arrangements on the table. “Huh, seems you all found a good use for them, though.”

“Of course!” Tooru giggled happily as she hopped on to her feet. She reached over to carefully set a flower crown decorated with various purple, red and dark blue flowers on the other girl’s head. “I made this especially for you!”

A faint pink tint spread across the purple haired girl’s cheeks. “Aw, you didn’t have to do that,” she hummed, reaching out to loop an arm around the other’s waist.

I know, but I wanted to! And it looks so cute on you!”

“You do have a keen eye for this kind of stuff, babe,” Kyoka leaned closer to press a few quick kisses to the other girl. One presumably landed on her cheek while the next met her lips, judging by how her giddy giggles were cut off a bit by the second one.

Sato suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Cake’s almost done! Aoyama, wanna help me decorate it?” he called.

The blonde’s eyes lit up as he scampered over, sporting two flower crowns and a slew of flower bracelets as he did. “Oui! It must be très magnifique for a young maiden with a broken heart!”

Tsuyu watched him go before looking back at the others. “So who should have delivery duty for the cake and flower goods, kero?”

“Not those two, obviously,” Kaminari snorted, indicating Tooru and Kyoka being all gooey with each other. “That’s a sure-fire way to rub salt in the wound, having a happy couple like them come bring you a bunch of ‘Sorry You Got Dumped’ presents.”

“Is it really getting dumped if they were never going out, though?” Kirishima asked with a tilt of his head.

Mina patted his shoulder. “Oh, Kiri, my friend… My poor, sweet, romantically challenged friend… It totally does,”

“Well one of the deliverers should be someone who is good at being empathetic to other people,” Ojiro chimed, carefully finishing off a flower necklace of his own.

“Mhm. And we really should send more than one person,” Ochako pointed out, “and have at least one of them be someone who Fujiwara-Chan spoke to when she was here.”

Midoriya perked up before nodding. “Yaoyorozu-San, you were here with Fujiwara-San as well, right?”

She blinked in surprise. “Oh, yes! Only for a little bit, though,”

“Why don’t you and Todoroki-Kun take the goods to her? You already know the situation and you’re great at relaying information, so you can update him pretty quick,” he said.

“But why Todoroki? No offense, but the guy’s not the best when it comes to dealing with people,” Sero pointed out with a quirked eyebrow.

Midoriya glanced at him. “He may not be the best, but he’s better than you’re giving him credit for. He won’t go poking or prodding at her about it if he knows it could upset her. Plus, he needs the break from studying up in his room,”

Iida glanced over at that. “Wait, he is still studying?”

Midoriya nodded. “Yeah. I tried to convince him to come downstairs with me when I first came down, but he insisted he needed to keep at it,” He then turned to look at Momo with a smile. “But, I get the feeling that if it’s you that asks him, Yaoyorozu-San, he’ll be inclined to go along.”

She nodded before picking up the flower crown she’d made. “Well, I did want to take him one of these, anyway,” she said quietly.

“Excellent! You can go get him with Sato-Kun and Aoyama-Kun finish getting the cake ready to go!” As Momo headed for the elevator, she missed the knowing grins exchanged by Midoriya and Ochako, the two rather pleased with themselves. They’d thought it’d be a little harder than all this to start enacting their plan.

She fiddled with the crown in her hands as she took the elevator up. Would Todoroki be okay with going with her? She didn’t like the idea of bothering him while he was studying, but Midoriya did raise a good point about him needing to take a break. She didn’t like the idea that he was overworking himself by studying too hard. And if he’d been at it all day, didn’t that imply he was having trouble with a subject? Perhaps she should offer to help him work on whatever it was once they got back. Normally the two of them tended to struggle and succeed in opposite areas, so she might be able to help clear up his confusion.

When the doors opened, she made a beeline for his door, glancing down at the crown she had made for him again. Hopefully he would like it. She remembered him mentioning before that rindou flowers were his mother’s favorite, while he himself admitted to thinking roses were appealing. She thought the combination of blue and white would be a good fit for him, with the yellow being a nice little splash of warmer colors. She hoped he would like it. She raised one fist and knocked gently.

There was a small sigh as the door was pulled open. “Midoriya, I appreciate your concern but-!” Todoroki started to say as he opened the door before pausing at seeing her. He blinked slowly. “You aren’t Midoriya.”

Momo let out a small amused giggle at the reaction. “Indeed I’m not, but he did send me to come get you,” she said.

He nodded again, his eyes lingering on her before he reached out and gently curled a strand of her hair around his finger. “You curled your hair,” he commented.

A small splash of pink hit her cheeks. “A-Ah, actually, I didn’t. When my hair isn’t tied back it tends to curl like this. I am unsure if it’s just a matter of humidity or what, but it’s always done this,” she explained.

Todoroki let out a small hum, carefully tucking a strand behind her ear. “It looks very nice. You should wear it down more often,” His eyes then swept up and took in the pink, purple and orange flower crown intermingled with her hair. “Hmm? Where did you get that?”

“Oh, we made them. And I made one for you, as well!” she said, perking up and smiling as she held the crown up. She reached over and carefully settled it atop his head then preened in delight at how well the colors intermingled with not only one another but also the colors of his hair and eyes.

He reached up and gently touched the crown. “The flowers you used,” he trailed.

“I remembered you mentioned that you liked them or that they were important to you,”

“You remembered something as trivial as that?” he asked, just the slightest hint of surprise creeping to his voice.

“It isn’t trivial, Todoroki! Things you like and dislike are not trivial information,” she tutted lightly.

A small smile turned up on Todoroki’s lips at her words. “Thank you, Yaoyorozu,”

“It was my pleasure. Besides, since Fujiwara-Chan created them, it only made sense to use them,” she giggled.

He blinked and tilted his head. “Fujiwara-Chan? Who is that?”

Momo gasped and clapped her hands together. Ah, how could she have forgotten the reason she came to get him? “You and I have been given a small mission.”

“Mission?” he parroted skeptically. She nodded and gave him a brief overview of what had happened with Fujiwara-Chan; the confession, the rejection, and their class’ attempt to cheer her back up. He nodded slowly. “It seems rather inappropriate to respond to a confession like that. I mean, it’s incredibly disrespectful.”

“I agree. Sadly she wouldn't tell us who it was she was confessing to, so we have no idea who behaved like that,” she sighed.

“Probably Monoma,” he scoffed as he wandered out of his room, shutting his door as he did. “He has a propensity for peacocking around as if everyone is beneath him. I could see him being rather tactless when rejecting a confession.”

“I suppose I can ask Itsuka-Chan about it later. But, for now, we have a job to do!” she said happily as she stepped a few paces back. Todoroki shifted to walk beside her as they approached the elevator. “Oh, by the way, Todoroki… Midoriya mentioned you were doing some studying today. Were you having trouble with an assignment for class? If so, I’d be more than happy to help you.”

He stared at her for a moment, expression unreadable, before shaking his head. “It wasn’t exactly a school thing but… I have come to a conclusion regarding it. I greatly appreciate the offer of help, though,” he mused. She blinked and tilted her head, confused but opting against pressing further. She knew Todoroki well enough to know he liked his privacy and would come forward with something when he realized he was in over his head, though, and chose not to stress over it.

Inside, Todoroki made a note to try and ask Fujiwara-Chan about how she’d prepared to take a huge step like a love confession. Without Yaoyorozu there. He didn’t want her to realize his feelings before he was ready to tell her himself.

[thebaconsandwichofregret]

Happy False Value Day everyone!!!

As many of you know Ben Aaronovitch used to work for Waterstone’s, a bookshop chain in the UK, and because he’s quite proud of having worked there (and they are proud of having once employed him, no seriously, every time I even look at one of his books in one of their shops a member of staff spontaneously appears to tell me “He used to work here you know!” If I had a pound for every time I’d heard that I could afford to buy the Folly) he gives Waterstone’s a special exclusive short story in the first run of every new Rivers of London book. 

Obviously this is great for those of us who are UK fans. 

It’s less great for those of you who are international fans. However in the spirit of International Magical Cooperation I managed to get my hands on my copy ever so slightly early and so I have here for your reading pleasure, the exclusive short story from False Value - A Dedicated Follower of Fashion

Please note that this story contains mentions of sex and drugs and rock’n’roll

A Dedicated Follower of Fashion

By Ben Aaronovitch

You know that song by The Kinks? Not that one. The other one. No, not that one either. Yeah, that one- ‘Dedicated Follower of Fashion’. You wouldn’t believe it to look at me now, but that song’s about me. 

These days my daughter does her best to keep me looking respectable, and I haven’t the heart to tell her that I’d much rather wear my nice comfortable corduroy trousers, with braces, and leave my shirt untucked. But back in the sixties I was the dedicated follower of fashion. And it’s true that they sought me here and they sought me there but, as Ray Davies knew perfectly well, that was probably because of the drug dealing. What can I say? Clothes aren’t cheap. 

I was a middleman buying wholesale and supplying a network of dealers, mostly in and around the King’s Road. I rarely sold retail, although I did have a number of select clients. And of course nothing lubricates a soirée like a bowl full of alpha-methylphenethylamine. It was all going swimmingly until some little shit from Islington stiffed me on a payment and I found myself coming up ten grand short. And, believe me, ten grand in 1967 was a lot of money. You could buy a house in Notting Hill for less than that - not that anyone wanted to, not in those days. 

Now, I’ll admit that as an entrepreneur working in such a volatile industry, I probably should have ensured that I had a cash reserve stashed away against such an eventuality. Mistakes were definitely made. But in my defence, not only had I just discovered the joys of blow, I was also distracted by my infatuation with Lilith. 

Now, I’ve always cheerfully swung both ways and, to be honest, I’ve always been more attracted by the cut of someone’s trousers than what was held therein. But when I met Lilith it was if all the cash registers rung out in celebration. She was so like a man in some ways and so like a woman in others. I’d love to say that it was the best of both worlds, but looking back it was a disaster in every respect. Although a completely exhilarating disaster, like a roller coaster to an unknown destination. I tried explaining what she was like to Ray Davies and that beardy writer who ran that sci-fi magazine, but they both got her completely wrong. 

So there I was, suddenly ten grand down to people whose names you’re better off not knowing - let’s just call them the Deplorables and leave it at that. If I tell you that their nicknames were Cutter, Lead Pipe and Gnasher, that should give you a flavour of their character. You could call Cutter the brains behind the gang but that would be risking an overstatement. Organised crime in the good old days required little in the way of actual brains and relied much more on a calculated defiance of the social niceties vis-à-vis psychotic violence. Terrify your rivals, bully your customers, and hand out a bung to the local constabulary and you were away. 

And it goes without saying that aesthetically they were a dead loss. 

The Deplorables had a straightforward approach to those that owed them money which I will leave to your imagination - suffice only to say that it involved a sledgehammer and, of all things, a marlinspike. 

But I had no intention of losing my knees, so I had arranged a couple of new deals that would net me a sufficient profit to cover both what I owed the Deplorables and the same again to appease them sufficiently to save my poor knees from a fate worse than polyester. 

I know some of you are thinking that polyester was hip and groovy back in the Swinging Sixties, but trust me when I say that it was an abomination from the start - whatever the elegance of its long chain polymers.

In order to keep body and wardrobe together while I waited for these deals to come to fruition I decanted, along with Lilith and my faithful sidekick Merton, to a squat in Wandsworth just off the Earlsfield High Street. Now, I normally shun the transpontine reaches of the capital. But my thinking was sound. With my reputation as a flower of Chelsea and the King’s Road, I reckoned that nobody - least of all the dim members of the Deplorables - would think to look for me across the river. 

‘No fucking way,’ said Lilith when she first saw it, ‘am I living in this shithole.’

Squats come in many flavours. But political, religious or student, they are almost always shitholes. However, I could see this one had potential and Nigel, God bless his woolen Woolworths socks, had at least kept it clean. 

But not particularly tidy. 

Outwardly Nigel was definitely one of the children of Aquarius. Inside he had the soul of an accountant, but alas none of the facility with numbers. 

According to Nigel, who could be dull about this sort of thing, the building we were squatting in had been built in the eighteenth century as an inn that specialised in serving the trade along the river Wandle. This was news to me, because I had assumed the rank channel immediately behind the house was a canal. 

‘There used to be factories up and down the Wandle,’ he told me despite my best efforts to stop him, ‘all connected up with barges. And this is where the wartermen used to get their drinks in.’

With the collapse of that trade it was converted into a grad town house, a status it retained for a hundred years or so before providing slum housing for the unwashed multitude. Occasionally on its hundred-year odyssey it would surface into the light of respectable society before descending once more into the depths of squalor. 

Which is where yours truly arrived to bring a touch of colour and a modicum of good taste to the old place. 

Looking back, I believe that might have been the start of the whole ghastly business. 

Now the thing about the drug trade is that it overlaps with the general smuggling industry. As a result a man with the right contacts can acquire much in the way of valuable cloth - Egyptian cotton and the like - without troubling the good people of Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise. Then such an individual might use his reputation for fashion to sell on said items to the East End rag trade at less than wholesale, cash under the table, no questions asked and no invoices raised. Not as lucrative as a suitcase full of horse, but safer and more dependable. 

Cloth, even expensive cloth, takes up considerably more room even than Mary Jane, so the fact that the old building had a beer cellar capacious enough to store the stock was the other reason I’d chosen it as a bolt-hole. Merton and I pressed Nigel into service to help us carry the bales, wrapped in tarpaulin for protection, down to the cellar, which proved to be mercifully dry and cool.

It was surprisingly cool - you could have used it as a pantry. 

‘That’s because of the river,’ Nigel explained. ‘It’s just the other side of that wall.’

I touched the wall and was surprised to find it cool but bone dry. 

‘They know how to build houses in those days,’ said Nigel. 

Once we’d moved the good in, it was time to deal with the ever simmering domestic crisis that was life with Lilith. In the latest instalment of the drama, she had ejected Nigel from the master bedroom and claimed it as her own. This was less of a distraction than it might be because Nigel, like nearly all men, was clearly smitten with Lilith and acquiesced with surprisingly good grace. 

And so we settled in companionably enough, especially when Lilith and Nigel discovered a common in the works of Jack Kerouac. I could see that at some point I would be bedding down with Merton for a night or two. I won’t lie and say that I didn’t find Lilith’s peccadillos upsetting but Merton, bless his acrylic Y-fronts offers compensation in his own rough manner. 

Things started to go wrong the night of the storm and consequent flood. And while our decision to drop acid and commune with the thunder- Nigel’s idea, by the way - probably wasn’t to blame, it certainly didn’t help.

I don’t normally do hallucinogenics as they often disappoint. You go up expecting Yellow Submarine and get a lot of irritating visual distraction instead. My colour sense is quite keen enough, thank you, without having a pair of purple velvet bell-bottoms start to shine like a neon sign. 

The master bedroom - now Lilith’s domain - contained, of all things, a king-size four-poster bed that was missing its curtains. But since I’d arrived, it at least had matching cotton sheets in a tasteful orange and green fleurs-de-lis pattern. They matched the old wallpaper with its geometric tan and orange florets that still showed the retangular ghosts of long vanished photographs and paintings.

At some point - Nigel had said the 1930s - the owners had installed an aluminium-framed picture window that ran almost the length of the room and looked out over the canal, or more importantly, up into the boiling clouds of the oncoming storm. 

Lilith started on the bed with all three of us, but I can’t take anything seriously when heading up on LSD, least of all sex. So I quickly disengaged and chose to sit on the end of the bed and watch the storm. I doubt the others were troubled by my absence. 

I watched the storm come in over the rooftops of South London with lightning flashing in my eyes and that glorious sense of joy that only comes from something psychoactive interacting with your neurones. I lost myself in that storm and, in it, I thought I sensed the roar of the god of joy, whose acolytes dance naked on the hilltops and rip the goats apart. 

But the mind is fickle and darts from thought to thought and I became fascinated by the patterns the raindrops traced down the window glass. Then the play of light and shadow drew me to the walls, where I found myself pulling at the torn edge of the wallpaper. Like most squats, damp had gotten into the room at some point in the past and the top layer peeled away to reveal another layer below - a vertical floral design in red, purple and green on a pale background. Carefully I stripped a couple of square feet away. And while behind me Lilith howled obscenities in the throes of her passion, I started on the next layer. This revealed a faded leaf design in silver and turquoise. The colours pulled at me and I realised that if I could just find the original surface I might open a portal to another dimension - one of style and colour and exquisite taste. 

But I had to be patient. Clawing the walls would disrupt the delicate lines of cosmic energy that flowed along the pinstripes of the layer of blue linen-finish paper. Delicately, I peeled a loose corner until I uncovered a beautiful mustard yellow bird that glowed with an inner light. Gently and meticulously I revealed more. A trellis design overgrown with olive and brown brambles sporting red flowers and crimson birds. I knew it at once as a classic design from ‘the Firm’, the company founded by William Morris to bring back craftsmanship to a world turned grey and smoky by the Industrial Revolution.

I was ready for a hallucination then, and willed my mind into the pattern in front of me, but nothing happened. The wallpaper shone out of the hole in the wall, the light shifting like sunlight through a real trellis, real birds, but that achingly rational part of my brain stayed aloof. Chemistry, it said, it’s all chemistry. 

At some point Nigel escaped the bed and fled whimpering into the cupboard and closed the door behind himself. 

The trellis and its mustard-coloured birds mocked me from the walls, 

‘I think we’re sinking,’ said Merton, for what I realised was the third or fourth time. 

I was still coming down and it took concentration to focus on Merton, who was stark naked and pacing up and down at the foot of the bed. Lilith was sprawled face down, arms and legs spread like a starfish to occupy as much space as possible. There was no sign of Nigel, and in my elevated state I seriously gave consideration to the thought that Lilith had devoured him following coitus. 

Merton rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, as if testing his footing. 

‘Definitely sinking,’ he said, and ran out of the door. 

I flailed about a bit until I found a packet of Lilith’s Embassy Filters and a box of Swan Vestas, managed to not light the filter on the second attempt and dragged in a grateful lungful. A burst of head-clearing nicotine helped chase away the last of the lysergic acid diethylamide and I was just trying to determine whether I’d hallucinated a naked Merton when he reappeared.

‘I’ve got good news and bad news,’ he said. ‘We’re not sinking but we’re definitely flooding.’

The cellar was divided into two parts. The stairs led down to the smaller part of it, essentially a wide corridor which used to house, so Nigel insisted on telling me, the coal chute - now bricked up. A big metal reinforced door opened into the larger part of the cellar - the part with over ten grand’s worth of fabric stored in it. The door was closed but the corridor part was two inches deep in filthy water. 

‘Don’t open the door!’ called Nigel from the top of the stairs. 

I had no intention of leaving the dry section of the stairs, let alone risking the cuffs of my maroon corduroy flares in what looked to me like sewage overflow. Merton, who’d been trying to force the door open, now splashed back as if stung. For a man who I’d once seen cheerfully batter a traffic warden for awarding him a ticket, it was odd how he never argued with Nigel - not about practical things to do with the house anyway. 

Nigel, resplendent in a genuine Indian cloth kaftan - or so he claimed - passed me and stepped gingerly into the water. Reaching the door, he rapped sharply with his knuckles just above the waterline, then he methodically rapped up the door until he reached head height. After a few experimental raps to confirm, he turned to me and told me I was deader than a moleskin waistcoat. 

‘The whole room’s flooded,’ he said. ‘Probably not a good idea to open this door.’

I sat down on the stairs and put my head in my hands. I did a mental inventory of what I’d stored and how it had been packed. It was bad, but if we could pump out the room half of it could be salvaged - especially the silks, since the individual rolls had been wrapped in polythene. 

Thank God for Hans von Pechmann, I thought, and got to my feet. 

‘We need to drain the room,’ I said. ‘Nigel, get a pump and enough hose to run it back out to the river.’

Nigel nodded.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said, and practically skipped up the stairs. 

‘Put some clothes on before you go out!’ I called after him. 

I told Merton that when we had the pump and the hose, he would have to cut a suitable hole in the door -  near the top. 

‘Will you need tools?’ I asked. 

Merton eyed up the door. 

‘I have what I need in my bedroom,’ he said.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘Let’s have a cup of tea.’

It took Nigel the best part of the day to source the suitable equipment. In the meantime, I sent Merton out to the local phone box to see if I couldn’t rustle up another life- and kneecap-saving transaction. Ideally, I should have been making the calls myself but I didn’t dare show my face on the street - it’s a well-known face, even in South London. I spent the time cataloguing my wardrobe, alas much reduced by my exile, ironing that which needed ironing and casting away those items that had fallen out of style since my last purge. 

Some things never go out of style - some things, thank God, will never come back. Let us hope that the lime-green acrylic aquiline button-down cardigan is one of them. I really don’t know what I was thinking when I bought it. 

Apart from a spectacularly noisy toilet break, Lilith stayed blissfully asleep in the main bedroom until teatime and then vanished into the bathroom for the next two hours. 

Once Nigel had returned with the pump and the hose, Merton used his hammer and chisel to cut a rough hole, six inches across, near the top of the door. Nigel had brought down the cream-coloured hostess trolley and mounted the pump on that to keep it out of the water. Once it was rigged we ran a hosepipe up the stair, down the hall, across the kitchen and poked it out the back window. Merton stayed to supervise the outflow while I returned to the top of the stairs and gave Nigel the nod. 

It looked ramshackle and was, indeed, held together with string and gaffer tape. But like most things that Nigel built, especially his improvised hookahs, it was perfectly adequate. The pump puttered into life, the pipe going through the hole in the door stiffened, there was a gurgling sound and I followed the passage of the water upstairs and into the kitchen. There, an arc of water shot from the hose and into the river beyond. 

‘How long until it’s pumped out?’ I asked.

‘A couple of days,’ said Nigel. 

When I objected, he pointed out that it was a small-bore hosepipe, that the cellar was large and that we didn’t know how the river water was getting in. 

Some things you can’t control, I suppose, such as Lilith - who I found sitting in the kitchen in a loose yellow kimono, drinking brandy and letting her assets hang out. 

‘It smells different in here’ she said.

I pointed out that the window was open to allow egress of the hosepipe and was thus allowing fresh air, to which Lilith was generally unaccustomed, to enter the room. Lilith grunted and said she was going out that evening to meet some friends in Soho. 

I tried to talk her out of it but she insisted, and there was no stopping Lilith when she was set on something. 

‘What if the Deplorables see you?’ I asked.

‘Darling,’ said Lilith, throwing an orange ostrich feather boa around her neck, ‘the Deplorables never frequent the places I do and in any case - I’m invisible.’

I was making another calming cup of tea when I realised that Lilith had been right. The kitchen smelt fresh and, oddly, sun dappled - of you thought sun dappled was a smell. I went to the open window and took a deep breath. Not normally something I’d recommend given the foetid nature of the Wandle - which still looked more like a canal to me - behind the house. The air was fresh and another thing I noticed was that the water shooting out of the hosepipe was clear. I pulled the pipe in a bit and had a closer look and then an experimental tate - just the tip of the tongue, you understand. It was plain, clean water. Perhaps, I thought, the cellar had been flooded by a burst mains pipe. If so, then there was a chance that much of my stock might survive relatively intact. 

I also noticed that the house had a small back garden, or rather a side garden, an overgrown patch of weeds and brambles that filled a roughly triangular space between next door’s garden wall, the river and the side of the kitchen. I replaced the hose and went looking for the door that led to the garden. I’m not a horticulturalist myself, but to a man in my position, knowing there’s a back door - for egress in extremis - is always a comfort. 

It took three days to drain the cellar, which passed as quickly as two quarters of Lebanese cannabis resin could make it. Now I’ve never been one to get the munchies, but Nigel could consume an astonishing amount of fish and chips, and poor Merton was forced to make several supply runs. On the morning of the fourth day, Nigel declared that we could force the door and I went to fetch Merton. 

Who was nowhere to be found.

His room was as he always left it, the bed made with military precision and knife-edge creases. Merton was a thoroughly institutionalised boy, but what institution - the navy, prison, the Foreign Legion - I’d never thought to ask. His clothes, though dull, were hung or folded with the same admirable care. His tool case was missing but the canvas bag containing his baseball bat, bayonet and the long wooden stick with the stainless steel barbs that I didn’t want to know the purpose of, was tucked into the wardrobe next to his two spare pairs of Doc Martens boots. 

I returned to the basement corridor, which Nigel had mercifully mopped clean once the muddy water had soaked away. Nigel was standing by the door to the cellar, stock-still and staring at something on the floor. 

‘What is it?’ I asked.

Nigel pointed mutely at a battered blue metal toolbox sitting by the door. Its top was open and its trays expanded to reveal its rows of neatly arrayed tools and boxes of screws and nails.

‘He must have gone inside,’ said Nigel. His voice dropped to an urgent whisper. ‘Inside there!’

Since I had no idea why Nigel was so agitated, I reached out and pushed the door open. It opened a fraction and then pushed back - as if someone was leaning against the other side.

‘Merton,’ I said, ‘stop fucking about and let me in.’

I shoved harder and the door opened a crack and out poured a weird sweet smell like cooked milk. And with it a sense of outraged dignity which so surprised me that I jumped back from the door, which slammed shut. 

‘Is he in there?’ asked Nigel.

‘Must be,’ I said, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.

Neither of us could match Merton -  because that’s who it had to be - for physical might. I mean, I employed him precisely because he could intimidate your average creditor just by breaking wind. So we trooped upstairs for a cup of tea and some pharmaceutical reinforcement. 

‘Got any more black beauties?’ asked Nigel, who never could separate his biphetamines from his common or garden amphetamines. I swear, you try to educate people but there are limits. I gave him a couple of ludes, and given the day we’d had so far, took a couple myself. Lilith returned fabulously drunk at two in the morning, and we all piled into bed and didn’t get up until the next afternoon. 

The door to the cellar remained closed and Merton’s tool case was still where he’d left it. I tried the door, but it was stuck fast with no give at all. I even tried knocking it down, like they do in films, but all I did was bruise my shoulder. 

If Merton was in there, he wasn’t coming out until he was good and ready. And since I wasn’t getting in, I had to accept that I wouldn’t be realising any value from my stock of fabrics any time soon. Still, I’d already written down their value and put other deals in motion to generate cash flow - another drug deal, as it happens. A stack of Happy Bus LSD out of Rotterdam. A little bit riskier than my normal deals, but needs must, as they say.

Without Merton, I was forced to rely on Nigel to go out and make the necessary phone calls. Unlike Merton, who followed instructions without question, I had to explain everything to him as if he were in a spy movie with Michael Caine. Once he had the gist, he darted out the front door wearing an RAF surplus greatcoat. As I watched him go from the upstairs window, I realised that his hair had grown long enough to reach between his shoulder blades and wondered why I hadn’t noticed. 

The next couple of days went past with no sign of Merton, and I only managed to keep anxiety at bay with the help of my dwindling supply of cannabis resin and long punishing nights with Lilith. 

The door to the cellar remained closed. 

When I had nerved myself up to go look, I noticed that something had been jammed into the cracks around the edge of the door - as if it had oozed out from inside the cellar in liquid form and then set on contact with air. I took a set of pliers from Merton’s tool case and worried a fragment out. It’s a long time since I’ve prepared a slide in earnest, but while I didn’t have a microscope I did have a jeweller’s glass I keep for checking crystal shape. Under magnification the fragment revealed itself to be a tangle of threads - blue cotton, my good Egyptian cotton at a guess. I picked at the tangle with a pair of tweezers and a strange notion struck me -  that the threads weren’t tangled randomly, that there was a pattern to the knots.

I could imagine a circumstance where the pressure of water could both shred the original weave of a cloth and then tangle the threads. I could even imagine water pressure forcing the threads around the edge of the door, but it seemed unlikely. Before I discovered fashion and pharmaceuticals I did a degree in chemistry. Started a degree, to be precise - I stopped paying attention in the second year. But I always thought of myself as rational even when under the influence. 

If I’d known what I know now, I would have run screaming from the house and taken my chances with the Deplorables. But I lived in a much smaller world in those days. 

Although large enough for my Rotterdam connection to agree to a deal. Not only that, but it seemed my credit was good enough for me to procure a sample shipment on good faith. With the profit from that sale I could finance a larger shipment and thus dig myself out of my financial predicament and quit the squat - and it’s creepy basement.

The only catch being that I would have to provide my own mule to bring the sample in. Normally you don’t use your friends as mules, not even friends of friends. What you really want is a gullible person who’s been talked into it by someone you only know through business. I knew a guy who could meet a girl at a party and have her on a plane to Ankara the next day. He made a living recruiting mules and didn’t mind some wastage at all - right up to the point someone’s mother gave him both barrels of her husband’s grousing shotgun. The police never caught her and only Merton and I turned up for the funeral. 

It wasn’t hard to persuade Lilith to fly to Rotterdam - especially first class - and the beauty was that wherever she touched down, she paid for herself. Or to be strictly accurate, other people took care of her needs for her. The downside, of course, was that you had to allow her time to party - in this case, at least a week. You’d think that without Lilith sharing the high thread cotton sheets of the four-poster bed I’d be getting more sleep, but I found myself spending most of every night staring at the underside of the bed’s canopy. 

It didn’t help that I had to ration the Quaaludes - I needed them to keep Nigel functioning. 

‘There’s something in the cellar,’ he said, and refused to go down into the basement. 

I, on the other hand, found myself increasingly drawn to the cellar door. Especially when it started to flower. 

It started with a spray of cotton around the door frame, overlapping triangular leaves of white and navy-blue cotton that stuck to the bricks of the wall as if they’d been glued in place. I took a sample and found that instead of regular weave, the cloth was formed by the intertwining of threads in a complex pattern. Some of the threads amongst the white and blue were a bright scarlet and spread through the fabric in a branching pattern like streams into a river basin. Or, more disturbingly, like capillaries branching out from a vein. 

I did make an attempt, cautiously, to scrape one of the ‘leaves’ off the wall with a trowel I found in Merton’s tool case. But even as I pushed the blade under the edge of the cloth I felt such a wave of disinterest -  I cannot describe it more clearly than that- that I found myself halfway up the basement stairs before I realised what had happened. 

The next day the cotton leaves had spread out at least another six inches and surrounding the door were tongues of crimson and yellow orgaza. Individual threads had begun to colonise the door proper - curling into swirling patterns like ivy climbing a wall. I spent an indeterminate amount of time with my back to the opposite wall, staring at the pattern to see if I could spot them moving.

I wondered what it meant. Perhaps Nigel was right, and the Age of Aquarius was upon us and we had entered a time of miracles. 

When I was upstairs I tried to put the cellar out of my mind and concentrate on plans for the future. I had fallen into drug dealing almost by accident and had always found it an easy and convenient way to keep myself in the sartorial fashion I aspired to. But if my run-in with the deplorables was an indication of the future, then perhaps it was time to pack it in. A boutique of my own instead, one in which I could serve both as owner-manager and inspiration. Before the merest thought of doing actual work, no matter how supervisory, had filled me with disgust but now … now it seemed attractive. 

I didn’t trust these feelings. 

I needed out of the squat. I needed to be strutting down the King’s Road or Carnaby Street. I wanted back out into the world, where I could be as dazzling and as splendid as the first acolyte of the goddess of fashion. 

But you need working kneecaps to strut your stuff. And so I stayed where I was. 

By the third day the door was completely obscured behind a tapestry of red, black and gold thread, and wings of cotton spread out across the walls and ceiling. The organza had likewise spread and a third wave of pink and yellow damask now framed the doorway. By the sixth day the entire corridor was curtained in swathes of multicoloured fabric, so that it seemed a tunnel to a draper’s wonderland. 

I no longer dared leave the safety of the foot of the stairs and yet I still found myself walking down them three times a day to look. The urge to walk into its warm comforting embrace was terrifying. 

On the seventh day, Lilith failed to return. I started to seriously worry on the eighth; on the ninth, I fell into such a despair that no amount of near pharmaceutical-grade Drinamyl amphetamines could lift me from it. On the tenth, a postcard arrived with four jaunty pictures of a tram stop, a fountain, a town square, a gigantic statue of a man holding up the sky and Groeten uit Rotterdam written across the front. 

On the back Lilith sent me love and kisses, explained that she’d met a splendid sailor or three and would be staying on in the Netherlands for a bit, but not to worry because she’d found a perfectly wonderful Spaniard to courier my product back to London. Thoughtfully she’d written the travel and contact details of the Spanish courier on the postcard - in plain English. 

With a heavy heart I sent Nigel out to pick up the package and when he failed to return I was not surprised. 

We live in a universe constantly assailed by the forces of entropy. Nothing good, pure or beautiful can stand up to the relentless regression towards the mean, the dull and the shabby. A minority have always striven to be a beacon in the gloom, a constant source of inspiration to those around them. Some worked through the medium of paint, or music, or literature, but I have sought to make myself the living embodiment of style and culture. 

God knows it hasn’t been easy. 

But a man should always know when he’s been beaten. That morning, as I sat in the kitchen, futilely waiting for Nigel to return, I realised that that time, for me, was nigh. I went upstairs, stripped myself down to my underwear - not nylon and not frilly, thank you, Ray - and after taking a deep breath to steel myself, donned a pair of brown corduroy trousers and a matching moleskin shirt. A pair of Hush Puppies and one of Merton’s donkey jackets completed my transformation. I looked in the mirror -  I was unrecognisable. 

Stuffing the last of my cash reserves in my pockets, I headed for the front door. I paused by the basement only long enough to ensure it was closed. From behind it came a noise that might have been a giant breathing, or water flowing, or shuttles running back and forth across lines of thread. 

I shuddered and walked boldly out into the sunlight. 

My plan was simple. Take the train to Holyhead, the ferry to Dublin and then, via a few contacts I still had, to America and freedom. 

I didn’t even get as far as Garratt Lane before I ran straight into Cutter. I tried to braout but somehow he recognized me instantly and called out my name. 

I turned, ran back to the squat, slammed the door behind me and went for the back door. There I could escape via the garden, over the wall and run for Wimbledon Park station. 

But Lead Pipe was waiting in the kitchen, with a cup of tea on the go and the Daily Mirror open to the back pages. 

‘About time,’ he rumbled when he saw me. 

Three guesses where I went next. 

I was down the stairs and into the basement corridor before I even noticed that the walls had grown a fringe that glowed with a soft golden light. I was prepared to throw myself frantically at the cellar door but I found it open. I ran inside with no brighter plan than to barricade myself inside and hope the Deplorables grew bored.

Inside the cellar was a riot of colour. The walls were arrayed with purple organza and burgundy charmeuse, while sprays of a brilliant blue habotai framed cascades of fabric woven in a dozen colours - scarlet, yellow and green - into tangles of vines, leaves and flowers. Globes of light hung suspended from golden threads in each corner, illuminating a bundle of gold and black embroidered silk suspended from tendrils of lace - like a cocoon from a spider-s web. 

Around me was a giant’s breathing and the warp and weft of a loom gigantic enough to weave the stars themselves. I could no more have stopped myself from grasping that bundle than I could have stopped myself breathing. 

The bundle was warm and squirming in my arms. I unwrapped a layer of gauzy chiffon, gazed down on my fate and was lost. 

‘Oi,’ said a voice from behind me. 

I turned to find myself confronting the sartorial disaster that were the Deplorables en masse. I won’t describe their appearance on the off chance that children may one day read this account. 

‘Can I help you gentlemen?’ I asked, because politeness is always stylish. 

‘Yeah,’ said Cutter. ‘You can give us the ten grand you owe us.’

‘Plus interest,’ said Lead Pipe.

‘Plus interest,’ said Cutter. 

‘I’m rather afraid I haven’t got it,’ I said. 

‘That’s a shame,’ said Cutter, and he turned to Lead Pipe. ‘Isn’t that a shame?’

‘It’s definitely a shame,’ said Lead Pipe. 

The bundle in my arms squirmed a bit and made happy gurgling noises. 

‘Since the money is not forthcoming, I’m afraid we’ll be forced to take measures,’ said Cutter. He looked once more to Lead Pipe. ‘Is your sledgehammer ready?’

By way of reply, Lead Pipe held up his sledgehammer and I couldn’t help but notice that there were brown stains on the long wooden handle. 

‘And Gnasher,’ said Cutter. ‘Do you have a marlinspike about your person?”

Gnasher grunted and held up a pointed lump of metal that I can only presume, in my ignorance of all things nautical, was a marlinspike. 

Cutter turned back to me and smiled nastily.

‘I’d say that you should take this like a man,’ said Cutter. ‘But that would be a waste of time.’

Never mind his rudeness, I had more pressing concerns. 

‘Shush,’ I said. ‘You’ll wake the baby.’

Cutter’s face suffused to a fine shade of puce and he opened his mouth to continue his ranting, so I twitched aside the fine damask sheet to reveal my daughter nestled in her bundle of silk and high-thread Egyptian cotton.

Her beautiful brown face broke into a charming smile and, opening her chubby arms in a benediction, she laughed - a sound like water tumbling over stones. 

Cutter gave me an astonished look and whispered.

‘Is this your…?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered back. ‘Her name is Wanda.’

‘But,’ said Cutter, ‘you can’t keep her here.’

‘She likes it here,’ I said indignantly.

‘It’s a dump,’ said Lead Pipe in a low rumble. ‘It’s not fit for human habitation.’

‘He’s right,’ said Cutter. ‘There’s damp and mould and the kitchen is a disgrace.’

‘And there’s no nursery,’ rumbled Lead Pipe.

‘And the garden is a jungle,’ said Gnasher. ‘Totally unsuitable.’

‘Gentlemen,’ I said, ‘I can’t attend to any of these details if you break my legs.’

‘Obviously, we have to deal with the immediate shortcomings of the house before we return to the matter of breaking your legs,’ said Cutter. ‘Don’t we boys?’

‘I know a couple of builders,’ said Gnasher. ‘And Lead Pipe has green fingers. Ain’t that right?’

Lead Pipe cracked knuckles the size of walnuts. ‘That’s true,’ he said. 

‘Really?’ I said.

‘You should see his allotment,’ said Cutter. ‘He has compost heaps you wouldn’t believe.’

I thought of the rumours of what exactly happened to people who crossed the Deplorables and I decided that I actually did believe in those heaps. 

‘About my legs,’ I said but Cutter wasn’t listening.

‘And there’s the roof,’ he said, and the others nodded. 

‘About my legs,’ I said louder and then wished I hadn’t, because the trio were jerked out of their dreams of home improvement and focused on yours truly in a somewhat disconcerting manner. 

‘What about them?’ asked Cutter, taking a step towards me. 

‘I thought we might reach a more mutually beneficial arrangement,’ I said.

‘What kind of beneficial arrangement did you have in mind?’ he said. 

‘There’s the matter of the way you dress,’ I said. 

Cutter pushed his face towards mine. 

‘What’s wrong with the way we dress?’ he said. ‘It’s practical.’

‘Stain resistant,’ said Lead Pipe. 

‘Yes, but,’ I said, ‘it could be so much more.’

And Wanda laughed again and this time behind the chuckling stream was the crisp snap of fabric shears and the whistling hum of the shuttle as it plays back and forth across the thread.

‘But first,’ said Cutter, waving a blunt finger in my face, ‘we have to sort out the playroom.’

And that was that. I gave up the pharmaceutical trade and opened a boutique instead. Cutter and his boys were my first customers, and while they never stopped being an unsavoury gang of foul-mouthed thugs, at least when they broke legs they were well dressed doing it. 

Merton, it turned out, had fled the squat the day we pumped out the water and, being in need of some security, assaulted a police officer so that he could spend a couple of nice peaceful years at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Lilith visited him regularly, and after he got out they ran an animal sanctuary just outside Abergavenny until their deaths, within three months of each other, in 2009. Nigel is still alive and taught cybernetics at Imperial College until his retirement a couple of years ago. 

My daughter and I never got around to giving the boutique a name. It was always just ‘the shop’ and given that we never advertised it’s a wonder that we stay in business. We’re always at the cutting edge of fashion. We were out of flares while the Bay City Rollers were still number one and stocking bondage trousers before John Lyndon had dyed his hair. We’ve moved the shop a couple of times and, while we’re hard to find, we’re always close to the river. 

So if you want to know what the herd are going to be wearing next spring, and if you can find us and are prepared to pay the price, you too can join the ranks of the stylish, the à la mode, and truly become a dedicated follower of fashion. 

END

[purplesurveys]

1256

surveys by taco-tuesdays

What steps would you take in order to track down a thief? Not too far, honestly. I accept things pretty easily so if I’ve processed that I’ve been robbed, I am most likely to just let it go. I’ll feel like shit, of course, but I would just let it go and scold myself for failing to be attentive.

What is something that one of your family member collects? My mom used to collect printed table napkins from different restaurants, but obivously she hasn’t been able to continue that for the past year and a half. My dad and brother used to collect magazines but both stopped a few years ago.

What would you do if you were able to have lunch with the queen? The journalist in me will probably just ask her questions about her everyday life, how she spends it, what she’s into and what she’s not into these days.

If you got to create a new flavor of ice cream, what would it be? This is a little hard considering there are a lot of small businesses out there already getting creative and quirky with ice cream flavors so it’s just hard to tell if a certain flavor has already been invented or not. One thing I haven’t seen, though, is curry. I’d buy a pint of that in an instant.

What are some questions that you would ask your favorite celebrity? His latest vlog finds. He once shared a video of this smaller content creator, so I’m guessing that’s what he likes doing in his spare time and I’m sure he would have a bunch of other just as interesting recommendations.

If you were able to set up a stand, what would you sell? Street food.

Would you like to go deep sea diving? Why or why not? Yeah. I’m always willing to try daring, not-the-safest-thing-in-the-world activities haha.

What would life be like if you lived on a cloud? The realist in me just wants to say I’d plummet straight to the ground.

What would you find at the top of a magic beanstalk? Idk, my creativity can’t be bothered to be challenged.

What is one food you would not want to have rain down from the sky? Durian. It would hurt and stink like shit.

Which animal's characteristics are similar to your own personality? I don’t really assign sets of personalities to animals.

If you were in a department store, which aisle would you check out first? I personally still go for the toys/video games section first HAHAHA

What are some of your hobbies? They include going to museums, exploring new food and restaurants, traveling to different cities and countries, and reading about history.

You've opened a store that only sells purple items - what do you sell? BTS merch hahahahah duhhhh

What is something important that you've lost, and did you ever find it? I lost a rosary that came straight from the Vatican. No, I never found it again. I feel bad about it not because it’s a religious object, but because it came from my grandma.

Have you ever moved to a new school before? If so, how did it feel? I mean, I had to change schools when I was moving up from high school to college, but I’ve never changed schools within the same chapter of my studies, like in the middle of elementary or high school. But to answer the question, it had been a very liberating and empowering experience. I hated the rules in my Catholic school and there were so many elements from that place that made me hide so much about myself. The fact that I could wear shorts and curse and attend rallies and cut class and make my own class schedules in college felt incredibly freeing and satisfying.

What would've happened if Cinderella never went to the ball? See magic beanstalk question.

If you had one day to do anything at all, what would you choose? I would drive to Tagaytay and find a cozy restaurant and eaaaaatttt awaaaayyyy.

What are a few of your favorite songs? I really really like Singularity by V, Over the Hills by Hayley Williams, and So Far Away by Agust D and Suran.

Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework? All the time. I never wrote down homework.

--

If you were a witch, what kind of a spell would you cast? On who? I don’t care about casting spells on people. I just want my cravings to show up in the snap of a finger hahaha. Can that be part of a witch’s scope of work? Kjdgfhsdfskjfhs

Do you enjoy autumn leaves or spring flowers more? Why? I wouldn’t know. I experience neither over here.

What is your favorite sport to play? What about watch? Table tennis. Favorite to watch would be either tennis or pro wrestling.

Have you ever gone on a cruise before? To where? Yeah. It was an East Asian cruise so I traveled to Shanghai, Jeju, and Fukuoka.

What would you do if you were invisible for a day? Probably go to the bigger houses in the village and see how fancy they get.

Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? Typhoon, floods. A lot of places are incredibly prone to flooding, so as long as it’s been raining super hard the chances for a class suspension will get high.

What types of transportation do you think we will see in the future? I dunno. It seems like we’re at that point where everything is in the process of being invented or perfected already. 

What were some of your toys you always played with when you were little? I liked kitchen sets and anything with lots of buttons, so like toy telephones or cash registers.

If you were a movie star, what would a day in your life be like? I have no clue apart from the fact that I’m just glad I would assumedly have more than enough money to buy whatever I’m craving whenever I want hahaha.

If you invented a time machine, what year would you like to go to, and why? Realistically I wouldn’t change a thing; but if I had to answer this question I’d go back to 2016 and never ask out Gab a second time, so that the next four years wouldn’t end up being such a waste of my time.

What is your favorite holiday and why? I don’t have one. I’m not a big holiday ~celebrator.

What is something that you like to do while on vacation? Try food I’ve never tried before. The more unconventional or obscure, the better.

If you could meet any fictional character from a book, who would it be? Eh, don’t really have anyone in mind.

What are some common places that people tour when they come to your city? There’s the waterfalls in the upper part of the city – I’m just not sure if it’s still a popular spot but it certainly was when I was a kid. There’s also an art museum that I’m certain is a lot more frequented now.

What's one food that you did not enjoy as a child, but do as an adult? Curry.

How would having no electricity affect your daily routine? I wouldn’t be able to attend work, at least not for the whole day. It would also feel a lot warmer without the electric fan, which would in turn make me cranky.

If you had one wish, what would it be? A renovated room with a dedicated corner for all my merch.

Say someone gives you a magic sweater. What happens when you wear it? Idk.

If you built a new city, how would you convince people to move there? I wouldn’t.

What is one of your favorite movies? Why is it one of your favorites? Two for the Road. It has Audrey Hepburn, it’s a realistic rom-com, and the chemistry between the two leads is superb.

--

If you were given a certain amount of time to live, would you want to know? Yeah for sure, I would want to know in a heartbeat.

What would you do if you were able to stop time? I don’t know what I would do, but that would be a nice...opportunity, I guess? to experiment with or try out certain decisions and see how well or unwell they would work out to be. So that when time resumes, I’d know better on how to best handle a situation.

Do you think that long distance relationships would be for you? I wouldn’t actively go for it, but I’m not shutting down the possibility either.

Is there a popular social media platform that you don't have an account for? I have one for all the main ones, I think. Even Instagram, I made an account not too long ago to finally join the platform.

How old were you when you found out about Santa, the Easter Bunny, etc? I never knew the Easter Bunny was a thing until I started taking these surveys at like 14. I never really believed in Santa either, and the only figure I was super disappointed to learn that it didn’t exist was the tooth fairy.

Who is your favorite Disney Princess? Rapunzel.

Which freaks you out more - clowns or porcelain dolls? Porcelain dolls. They look more innocent, which somehow makes them creepier.

What was the last mistake that you learned from? Hm, just a minor work thing that would be too complicated to explain here.

Do you prefer "regular pencils" or mechanical ones? Why? Regular. I always break off the tips of mechanical pencils.

What is one little-known music artist you'd recommend? Andi made me listen to The Drums recently and I’ve been loving their sound so far; they would be perfect on a road trip. I’ve only listened to one album, though.

What is your favorite Pixar film? Toy Story!

Who was the last person to send you any sort of message on social media? Angela sent me a video meme.

Where were you on September 11th, 2001? I don’t know...probably already being put to bed. Either way I wasn’t fully conscious yet as I had only been 3 and living on the other side of the planet.

Name your favorite green vegetable. Broccoli, spinach, bell peppers, or asparagus. IDK I love veggies hahahaha

Could you handle a friends with benefits type of situation? Not for me. I’m not even into sex. 

Do you prefer using a brush or a comb on your hair? Comb. 

What's your favorite flavor of potato chips? SALTED EGG. I’m obsessed; I had like five bags this week alone.

Would you rather build a snowman or a snow fort? Why? I dunno; I’ve never tried making either.

At what age do you believe children should begin having screen time? I��m not too sure at this point, but I do know I don’t plan on being too strict with my kids. I’d let them watch stuff on an iPad from like age 3 or 4, but one thing I would change from how I was raised is putting a limit on their screen time, maybe half an hour to an hour a day.

If you had to give a speech, what would it be on? I’d be down for any topic as long as I was given ample time to research, honestly. I like public speaking.

[whattimeisitintokyo]

Somos Familia Ch 41: Meet the Parents

Skeletons!

SKELETONS!

Héctor would have kept screaming if he could have, but absolute terror had stolen his voice away and he was left gasping like a landed fish as he looked frantically all around him. Everywhere he turned there was a new skeleton standing beside him, glowing as golden and as translucent as he was. And he kept bumping into them! Some rattled, some yelped out ‘hey!’ in protest. Héctor was certain he had managed to knock one’s head off of its body. Soon he was too overwhelmed by skeletons that he had no place to move, only to drop down to the ground.

Scooting back quickly until his back was against a headstone, Héctor trembled with fright as suddenly all of the skeletons’ attention was turned to him. Their annoyance at being shoved and jostled quickly turned to confusion, then to astonishment as they finally saw that a man, a living one, was able to see them. They all crowded around him, looking at him like he was the abomination that shouldn’t exist instead of them, and started to whisper.

“Is that… Héctor Rivera?”

“He can see us?”

“Dios mio, it is him!”

“Héctor!”

“Héctor Rivera!”

Ave María Purísima, they knew who he was! Pressing himself further back into the gravestone, Héctor could only manage to squeak out a creaky moan of horror. The skeletons knew who he was. Skeletons that were dead. He was dead! He had died and now these creatures were here to drag him to hell. No no no, he couldn’t have died! He was healthy! He had made sure of it! Ever since his health scare all those years ago he had made it his goal to be as healthy as could be! No drinking, no bad food, plenty of exercise. He couldn’t have just died without warning!

“Héctor Rivera…”

Suddenly one of the skeletons drew in close to him. Héctor wanted to shut his eyes tight, block out these horrifying monsters from his sight, but he found that he couldn’t look away. With fearful trepidation he watch as the skeleton knelt down next to him, studying his face carefully. Was this the one who would be taking him to the underworld? He panted faster as the figure raised a grotesque bony hand up, reached deep into his jacket. Dios what was he doing?

Then, achingly slowly in Héctor’s terror-filled mind, the monster pulled out…

A pen.

“Señor Rivera, I am a huge fan!” the skeleton grinned widely. “May I have your autograph?!”

It took a few seconds for the question to force its way through the mind-numbing horror, but slowly Héctor’s panting stuttered to a halt and the words finally registered. For a brief moment he was able to see past the nightmarish ghouls in front of him and unbelievable predicament he was in to fully see how… that was the absolute last thing he was expecting a glowing skeleton with eyes and hair to say to him. And the stupidest.

“WHAT?!” He managed to finally scream out in pure exasperation. But it didn’t stop there as more skeletons began to crowd around him, each holding their own writing utensil and scratch pieces of paper.

“Me too! Me too! Ooh, Prima Lula is going to be so jealous!”

“Can you make it out to Fidelio, por favor?”

“Oye Héctor! It’s Manuel Fernandez, remember?! Your first customer! Your wife leaves a new pair of boots every year on my ofrenda. Tell her I said ‘Gracias’!”

“Ay, I don’t have any paper! Can you just write on my sternum? Sideways is fine!”

Their clamoring didn’t stop, as more and more excited skeletons grinned their toothy smiles and shoving pens in his face. Héctor backed further and further into the gravestone, sharp corners digging into him painfully, but he didn’t notice it much. His brain was overloaded with surging emotions: Fear, anxiety, annoyance, and more fear. He was just about to let out another scream when suddenly a bony hand clamped around his wrist. And he did scream at that, in an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek that could have come from a small girl instead of a fifty-year old man, when a voice briskly.

“Lo siento, Señor Rivera is not handing out autographs at the moment. Please check back a later time.”

Héctor found himself yanked back to his feet and pulled away from the groans and complaints of the skeletons, forced to run as the mysterious figure led him further into a more secluded corner of the cemetery. As they got closer and closer to the end of the gate Héctor finally decided he’d had enough and tried to skid them both to a stop. Jerking back his hand hard he tried to dislodge himself from the figure’s grip… And succeeded in popping the figure’s arm off straight from the socket. Still clutching him around his wrist.

“AAAH!” Héctor screamed and flailed his arm around, trying to fling the bones off. “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”

“Héctor, please! Calm down, mijo!”

A soft pair of hands gripped his shoulders and Héctor gasped, freezing in place. His whole frame still trembling in fright, the bony hand let go of his wrist and then the whole arm hopped away from him towards the figure. The arm bounced off the ground and slipped in cleanly through the sleeve of its shirt, and Héctor could see it was yet another skeleton. Rotating and working out the kinks of his newly reattached arm, the skeleton had the gall to glare at him.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, cabrón.” The skeleton snorted in disgust.

“Shh. Mi amor, please!” The voice behind him shushed and then made it’s way around to face him. It was a female, and unlike the male standing before him she was smiling at him. A small, sweet smile, trying to keep things as calm as possible. But as Héctor continued to draw back away from them in terror she could tell it was in vain. “Héctor, we need you to calm down for a moment.”

“Stay back!” Héctor cried out, swiping his arm out and managing to make the two skeletons flinch back. “Stay away from me! Don’t come any closer!”

“We’re not going to hurt you, Héctor.”

“What do you want from me?!” Héctor squeaked out, past the point of reasonable thought as hysteria clouded his mind. “Am I dead? Is this how death works? Are you going to eat me? Are you going to eat my skin?!”

“Ugh, no!” the male skeleton shuddered at the thought. “I came here tonight to eat menudo.”

“Just stay away from me! Someone! I need help! I need- AAH!” Suddenly something hot a wet slid up his cheek all the way to his hairline in a split second, and a cheerful bark burst through his eardrums. Turning he saw Dante happily smiling at him with his tongue lolling on his shoulder, and Héctor gasped in surprise. “Dante?! You can see me?!”

Dante barked again and made to lick him again, but Héctor pushed him away and began to smile madly. Tittering in near hysteria, Héctor grabbed Dante by the jowls and turned him toward the skeletons. “Good boy! Dante! Dante look: Bones! Get them! Get the skeletons, get the bones! Sic ‘em! Sic ‘em, boy!”

Dante whined in confusion and looked between his master, gesturing wildly and screaming at him while looking like he was on the verge of collapse, and the two skeletons, sighing and palming their faces in their hands. They seemed more composed than Héctor at the moment. So, with a small chuff he hopped away from him and stood by the woman’s side, earning himself a soft rub on the head while Héctor let out a moan of dismay.

“Dante, you dumb dog!” Héctor yelled out, causing the poor to shrink back and whimper. “Don’t let it pet you!” Running his fingers through his hair and ranking hard, Héctor didn’t notice that he was rocking jerkily back and forth as he began to babble. “What’s going on?! What happened to me?! I-I-I don’t know what to do! What happening?!”

“What are you asking us for?” The skeleton grumbled while crossing his arms. “Dios, can’t we have a normal Dia de Muertos for once? First Miguel’s birth, then that concert fiasco with de la Cruz, and now this?! Honestly, what is the deal with you, yerno?”

It took a few moments for his words to run it’s way through Héctor’s addled brain, but once it did he slowly stopped rocking and his panting ceased. He hazarded another look up at the two glowing skeleton and the wheels began turning again. “Y-yerno?”

Yerno?

Son-in-law?

Héctor started to look closely as the two. Past all the candy-like swirls of purple and silver on the man’s skull, other facial features started to stand out. The slicked back hair, the thick mustache, and his eyes. Those same hard, judgmental eyes that always seemed to look down on him, even from beyond the grave, every time he looked at that foto on the ofren-

Oh…

“…P-… Papa… Gaspar?”

“Hmmph.” Gaspar grumbled. “You can just call me Gaspar. Otherwise you’ll make me feel old.”

“Amor, you are seventy-three years old.”

“Nooo, I died at twenty-five, and so I will stay at twenty-five. Forever!”

As the woman laughed, a sweet yet hearty laugh that reminded him so much of Imelda, Héctor finally started to relax a little. Her features were familiar too. The same long face as Oscar and Felipe, the prim little smile like Imelda. “Mama Mirasol?”

Mirasol smiled back at Héctor, leaning down a little to meet his eyeline. “Hola, Héctor. It is so nice to finally meet you.”

Héctor blinked back dumbly. “… N-nice to meet you too…”

Now that he knew their names, knew who he was talking to, it made him feel less panicked. Imelda had told him enough stories from her childhood to know basic information about her parents. Gaspar was a great farmer who was able to grow a pumpkin once that was so big he had it fashioned into an actual carriage for Imelda when she was a toddler and pulled her around in it like she was a princess.

Mirasol made the best dishes out of whatever fruits and vegetables Gaspar didn’t sell. She was always constantly drawing on scraps of papers and napkins, some of which Imelda still had in box with other precious items. Her favorite one was a handkerchief that Mirasol had sketched the actual likeness of all three of her children when they were newborns, each child on three corners and ‘Mis amores’ on the fourth.

He was stern yet clumsy, she was sweet yet soft-spoken.

And they had both let their young children take the limited medication that the town had that saved their lives during a malaria outbreak, while they themselves went without and had died young.

“You calmed down now, payaso?” Gaspar asked. At Héctor’s slow nod, he held out a hand to him. “Good. Up you get, then.”

Héctor took Gaspar’s hand, wincing a little as the loose bones shifted unnaturally in his grip, and allowed him to hoist him off the ground. Gathering himself and  trying to look as dignified as he could after his embarrassing meltdown in front of his in-laws, Héctor smoothed back his unkempt hair and mumbled, “Gracias… I-I can’t believe it. Imelda’s parents… I’ve always wondered what you both were like.”

Mirasol smiled. “Ay, Héctor. We’ve also always wondered what it would be like to finally meet you. This is a little unorthodox, you not being a skeleton, but still. There’s so many things we always wanted to thank you for: Being a loving husband to our daughter, a wonderful father to our grandchildren, a great provider-”

“Sí sí, that’s all very well and good.” Gaspar interrupted. “But first things first. There is something I’ve been wanting to do for the last thirty-three years, and I hope you’ll oblige me Héctor.”

Héctor gulped a little and managed to bring up a corner of his mouth nervously. “O-okay. What do you want-”_

*SMACK*

“AY!” Héctor reeled back and immediately grabbed his left cheek as it stung harshly for the second time in one night. Managing to force a watery eye open he saw a boney finger pointing directly at his face.

“That is for getting my teenage daughter pregnant out of wedlock, you perverted little-”

“Gaspar! Ay Dios mio…” Mirasol grabbed her husband by the shoulders and forced him to back off, giving Héctor a weak grin. “I’m so sorry, Héctor. He’s been clamoring about that for years.”

Héctor nodded, eyes wide as he brought his hand back down. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean- That was an accident! I would never- AY, CARAJO!” His abused cheek was struck for a third time, and this time the finger pointing at him was Mirasol’s.

“Don’t ever call our little Coco an accident, niño!” Mirasol barked out, her sweet timid voice all of a sudden sounding as loud and forceful as her own daughter’s. But the moment quickly passed and she pinched her nasion in shame. “Ugh, I’m so sorry Héctor. We are not making the best first impression to you.”

As Héctor rubbed his reddened cheek, wondering why everyone who had slapped him happened to be right-handed, Héctor managed a chuckle. “Heh, it’s all right. I always thought that if I ever did meet my in-laws they’d want to slap me. I remember when Coco first started dating Julio I was- WAIT A MINUTE!”

The two skeletons and Dante flinched as Héctor started to rave again. “What the hell am I doing?! Chatting with two people I have never met before, and who have been dead for nearly half a century! I’m seeing skeletons everywhere I turn, no one can see me, I’m glowing, and Miguel thinks I’m… Oh no, Miguel! He’s thinks-! He’s been taken away! I have to go get him!”

“Héctor he’ll be fine!”

“No!” Héctor brushed Mirasol off of him and tried to walk back to the exit. “He’s in trouble! I have to save my-erk!” With a jolt Héctor stopped in his tracks. Looking down he saw Dante had grabbed him by the hem of his jacket, teeth clamped tight around the fabric. He tried to yank it free, but the dog refused to let up.

“Miguel is fine.” Gaspar said, his hand on Héctor’s shoulder. “He’ll be with his family tonight. They’ll take care of him. The one you need to save is yourself, tonto. Because what’s happened to you is not normal, and we need to find out what it is exactly.”

His word sinking in, Héctor nodded a little and Dante released his jacket with a happy snort. Looking down at himself, he patted his chest and groaned at the eerie glow he was emitting. This was definitely not normal. “So, what happened to me? Am I dead?”

“No.” Mirasol shook her head emphatically. “No… I don’t… think.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“You aren’t dead, Héctor.” Gaspar affirmed. “Believe me, you’ll know you’re dead when you’re filling out enough paperwork to make you wish you’d die again. No no, this is something different. Now I’m no expert on the matter, but if I were to guess I’d say whatever has happened has to do with that guitar.”

“Wh- guitar?” Looking down Héctor was astonished to see that, during all the craziness and emotional scarring that he had been exposed to in the last ten minutes, he had been clutching Ernesto’s golden guitar the entire time. He had not even noticed that he had still kept a grip on the blasted thing. “Why am I still holding this?!”

“Well it is a beautiful guitar.”

“No no! I want nothing to do with-wait…” Héctor stared into space for a few seconds, the gears slowly turning. “I grabbed the guitar. Then the flowers went crazy, flying in the air. That’s when-” With a gasp, Héctor smiled widely and pointed at the guitar giddily. “That’s when it happened! I got all glowy and see-through-y! It’s because of this pinche guitar!”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Gaspar grumbled. Next to him Dante whined in worry at Héctor’s train of thought. Why was he fighting this so hard? This was becoming more difficult than this simple dog could handle.

“So, it comes to reason that once I let go of the guitar… Then everything will turn back to normal! Ha HA!” Héctor held out the instrument at arm’s length and gave a slight bow. “Well then, so long Señor and Señora Rivera. This has been a de-lightful visit. But I must go back to a world of living, breathing human beings and sanity. Adios, and I hope you enjoy the offerings. And as for you, you useless instrument- Begone!”

Releasing his grip from the neck, the guitar dropped to the ground. Good, this nightmare was over. Now he could go home, forget this whole ever happened, and go on liv-

*zip*

There was no clanging of wood against the ground. It hadn’t even made contact. It had stopped less than a millimeter away from reaching it and then had magically flew back up into Héctor’s hand. Dante panted happily as once again the plan was back in motion. The other three, however, blinked for several seconds as they gawked at the guitar. Again, Héctor let the guitar drop, only for it to come back. Again. And again. Finally Héctor was practically chucking it to the ground, each attempt more frenzied than the last, and panting hard.

“Wow.” Mirasol couldn’t help but giggle as Héctor kept trying to force the guitar out of his hands. “It’s like a big, oddly shaped yo-yo.”

Héctor stopped what he was doing to glare at his in-laws, who were both snickering to themselves. “This is not funny! I’m trying to get back to my family, to my life, and you’re laughing at me?! This is bad! Really bad! What am I going to do?!”

“I don’t know, Héctor. But maybe someone else will be able to tell us.” Gaspar said before turning to Mirasol. “If he can see skeletons, then he might be able to cross the bridge. Then we can take him to Marigold station.”

“The Department of Family Reunions?”

“Exactamente.”

“Stop having conversations without me!” Héctor shouted. “Bridge? Department of Family Reunions? Where’s that?! Where are you taking me?!”

“The Land of the Dead, mijo.”

Héctor was taken aback from that. He looked at the two of them in shock. “The Land of the?-… No… No no no no…”

“Héctor-”

“No!” Héctor shouted, pointing at them both wildly. “No! You said I wasn’t dead! I’m not dead! I’m not going there, especially with people I have never even met before in my life! I’m not even convinced this is real. I’m dreaming or-or hallucinating or I have a huge tumor growing in my brain, all of those are more believable than this basura you’re spouting. I’m not going anywhere with you, so you and this dumb guitar can go straight back to hell together!”

With a mighty heave Héctor flung the guitar as hard as he could into the air. The sight of it spinning freely and high through the night sky was enough proof that he was finally rid of it, and with a mighty whoop of triumph he turned tail and started sprinting towards the exit of the cemetery. He heard Mirasol and Gaspar shouting after him, but he paid them no heed. He was not going to come back, not going to stop, not going to duck or whatever it was they screaming at him. He was going home! And nothing was going to stop-

*KA-BONG*

Several skeletons shouted in alarm as all of a sudden a large clanging sound shot through the air and a tall, gangly man went head over heels tumbling down their path. The body performed several impressive yet dangerous looking somersaults before crashing hard against one of the many protruding tombstones, resting into a mangled heap of long limbs, dust and mud. Héctor let out a small high-pitched whine as he collapsed onto his back and then was still. The only thing seemingly undamaged was the beautiful golden guitar as it magically shimmied itself back into the unconscious man’s hand like it was always meant to be there.

Gaspar and Mirasol caught up to Héctor, placating the nervous crowd with uneasy smiles. “Ah, lo siento everyone.” Gaspar chuckled. “This is a small family matter but we’re going to deal with it. J-just go about your business and enjoy the holiday, bueno? Bueno.”

The other skeletons were still skeptical but murmured in agreement and went back to their families and offerings, leaving the dead Riveras standing over Héctor. Dante came over and licked wet trails thick with slobber all over Héctor’s cheeks, his hair, even into his nose and mouth. Héctor didn’t even flinch, but he was still breathing normally.

Héctor was out cold.

Gaspar sighed. “So… This is who our daughter decided to marry.”

“I blame myself.” Mirasol replied wearily. “She gets it from me, I’m afraid. We both have strange tastes in men.”

“Sí, I guess you’re right… Hey!”

Ignoring her husband’s offense, Mirasol bent down to place her hand on Héctor’s forehead. “Gaspar, would you be a dear and go fetch Dr. Rosales? He’ll be either at his home or Imelda’s museum, but I’d check the museum first. I’ll stay with Héctor in case he comes to and ward off anyone else who gets to close.”

Gaspar winced a little at that and groaned. “Him? Are you sure?”

“Well, Héctor is obviously very traumatized by all of this, understandably. Trauma is his specialty, after all.”

“Ay, all right.” Gaspar started to head off, but paused and wavered a little. “Hey, um… should I tell… um…”

“I don’t know.” Mirasol said. “Maybe not. It might be to much for him, it might push him over the edge. Ask Dr. Rosales first about whether… she should come.”

With a quiet, sad nod Gaspar left his wife alone with Héctor and made his way out of the cemetery. As Mirasol quietly stroked Héctor’s hair and spoke softly to him, she didn’t notice Dante staring them both down.

Dante huffed in annoyance. He may not be the smartest dog in the world, as the little weird looking dog that guided his boy’s mate always told him, but he knew enough. They were not going along with the plan at all! Whatever the plan was. Did he even know the plan? Well whatever. Dante knew that his boy was scared and sad and angry. And if he was ever going to go to the world of the delicious bone people, he would not go with these bone people who scared him. No.

But he would go if he were to be reunited with his puppy. His daughter. His Leti.

So, like any good dog would, he would go and fetch his Leti for him if no one else was going to do it. With a yip he bounded out unnoticed by the bone woman and raced off to find the boney puppy.

Yes, Héctor would love to see his Leti! After all, Leti was the best girl-boy in the world!

 ---------------------------------

I am truly sorry for the lack of updates. These past few months have a kind of mental health break for me. For someone whose story kind of morphed itself into a study of mental health it was high tome I got some for myself! Hope it made you laugh, though.