#MY REIGN OF TERROR WILL PERSIST

[bvtbxtch]

Welcome to Hawkins, Indiana. The sleepy city that can bring with you the sweetest dreams, or the most terrorizing nightmares.

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Content might not be suitable for all readers (more updates coming)

If you would like to be notified of updates to this series, please add yourself to the taglist!

In collaboration with my love @darknesseddiem

"The quaint mundanity leaves Hawkins, Indiana a forgettable blip on the map. However, it casts a spell on you. Everyone in town has their jobs - go to work, take care of the kids, run their shops or prepare a new pot of coffee for the before-work rush. The neat and tidy form that lies in this sleepy city can make you fall in love, find yourself, or run into much more sinister happenings beneath the surface of the manicured lawns. It's your choice to figure out how to survive."

Jack O'Lantern Kiss - Carving pumpkins with bestfriend!Eddie leads to confessions you may or may not have always wanted to hear. Bestfriend!Eddie x Fem!Reader. Fluff, slight smut

Firestarter - Eddie has just told you he was bi, when the opportunity to explore appears at a bonfire at the Harrington house. Sub!Eddie x Dom!Reader x Switch!Steve. Smut

I Can Make You Scream - Your first collaboration with one of the most popular cam boys, Eddie, leaves you breathless and waiting for the next shoot with him. Camboy!Eddie x Camgirl!Reader. Smut

When It's Cold I'd Like to Die - The only way that Eddie feels he can get you out of the Upside Down safely is to sacrifice himself; but he forgot how stubborn you are. Boyfriend!Eddie x Fem! Reader. Angst, fluff

Paranoid - You watched Eddie make it out of the battle for Hawkins clinging to his life by a thread. Even though he has been acquitted for the crimes he was accused of, and life has gone back to normal, there is something not quite right with your boyfriend. Vecna'd!Eddie x Fem!Reader. Angst, fluff, slight smut

Dead by Daylight - You and Eddie have to stay together to survive your captors, a famous killing family situated on the outskirts of Indianapolis. Victim!Eddie x Victim!Reader. Angst, fluff

On the Line - Pumpkin Pie is back on the menu at Hank's Diner. What happens when the new waitress needs to stay with the Jaded line cook to prepare for fall festivities? Linecook!Eddie x Waitress!Reader. Fluff, smut

Let Me Love You - Eddie comes over to nurse you back to health after catching a cold. Bestfriend!Eddie x Sick!Reader. fluff

Jealous Guy - Steve Harrington is persistent with his advances towards you during the Hideout's Halloween party. Your co-bartender, Eddie, doesn't like the fact that you don't shoot him down right away. Bartender!Eddie x Bartender!Reader. Smut

Live From the Upside Down - There is a special Corroded Coffin show in Hawkins to celebrate Halloween. You've been a devoted fan since your brother, Dustin talked about Eddie and his band back in high school. Seeing the metalhead again stirs up feelings you forgot you had. Rockstar!Eddie x Henderson!Reader. Smut, fluff

Obsession - Eddie's obsession with you has been fun and games - late night drives, hookups and even a couple of dates. He has seemed to cross a line as of late... Ghostface!Eddie x Cheerleader!Reader. Smut

Children of the Corn - A group date in the new Hawkins corn maze sounded amazing to you: Hanging out with Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan sounded like just your night, until your worst enemy is included in the plans. Eddie x Fem!Reader. Smut

Movie Marathon - Years after the Ghost face killer has ended his reign of terror on Hawkins, the local movie theatre has decided to put on a movie marathon of the movies inspired by the killer. You and Eddie decide to go and revel in his glory. Ghostface!Eddie x Fem! Reader. Smut

You Don't Scare Me - Eddie is used to scaring most of the people who walk through the Hawkins Haunted House in the old Starcourt mall. He's determined to make you scream after you walk through and show no signs of being scared by him. Scareactor!Eddie x Grumpy!Reader. Smut

Kiss Me Through the Phone - You nor Eddie could contain your excitement for your homecoming from college for thanksgiving... so much so that you needed a reminder of what you would be getting yourself into when you're back. A phone call would suffice, wouldn't it? Eddie x Fem!Reader. Fluff, Smut

Taglist: @eddies-acousticguitar @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @hideoutside @anxiousobserver @tony-starks-ego @ohmeg

tagging some friends just for fun: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @hellfiremunsonn @ali-r3n @andvys @eddie-munsons-mullet @changemunson

[popatochisssp]

Apparently I haven't been checking here enough because there's so many new boys I didn't recognize in the sibling post!!! And they all sound so cool and interesting!!

Thank you! But you’re probably not as out of the loop as you think—I’ve been a little shy about sharing my stuff lately, so I actually haven’t posted about any of those guys before!

If you want a quick rundown…

Transcendtale: The result of a never-ending cycle of RESETs with a No Mercy sort of human. Monsters gradually became aware and eventually resorted to extremes to put an end to the cycle, sacrificing themselves to create one single vessel powerful enough to kill the human for good. In the aftermath, most of monsterkind is gone…physically, but still persist as consciousnesses recorded digitally instead. (Sort of a cyberpunk aesthetic answer to Dusttale.)

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): The unlucky bastard who got tapped to pilot the ultra-powerful human-killing vessel and one of only a few physical monsters remaining. His new body is entirely robotic but similar to what he had before—the only thing missing is a soul. He’s coping in the aftermath of Everything about as well as could be expected, but pretty heavily dysphoric and doubting his identity and his personhood as…whatever he is now.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): A virtual consciousness, a snapshot of the previous ‘original’ Papyrus, his thoughts, his feelings, his memories, his entire sense of self… AKA, Papyrus, just detached from a physical body and soul. He considers it a major upgrade, really—he’s eternal, everywhere, everything… Maybe a slight god-complex about it, but can you blame him? He can interact with the world directly via hard-light projections of himself if he chooses, so it’s hard for him to see a downside to his new state of being.

Ascendswap: Another never-ending cycle of RESETs with No Mercy to be found, but after a bargain is struck with an entity beyond mortal ken, a small inner-circle of monsters is granted awareness of the cycle, and access to deeper, older, more powerful magic in order to put a stop to the human’s reign of terror. Most of monsterkind is only peripherally aware of all that happened, but a select few have been Elevated beyond what they once were.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): He’s the one who struck the eldritch bargain and consequently gained power and magic, as well as the ability to share it with anyone he chooses. It’s come at a significant cost and large swathes of him have been lost, dissolved into pure magic. He’s also now one who’s seen beyond the veil, the ant who has perceived the circuit board so to speak, and he’ll never be quite who he was. Still, he’s happy, and far more attuned to souls and magic and energy than he ever was before, so he’s not complaining.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): One of the beneficiaries of his brother’s meddling, a newly-minted boss monster with full awareness of RESETs and much stronger magic—including an ability to push intent into his words as he speaks them, making their influence stronger. Due to the nature of its source, there’s only so far that little trick can go, but between being far more persuasive than he ever hoped he could be, his increased power, and more than a few timelines of experience, his confidence is through the roof and stress over what people think of him is a thing of the past.

Underfell Fruition: The Royal Scientist is never erased from reality. He continues his work as planned, without interruption and continues experiments which produce marvelous innovations for monsterkind’s eventual conquest of humanity. Two of his most impressive achievements are a device which allows the user to produce magic seemingly limitlessly, from thin air without drawing on one’s own energy, and a war machine that attacks on command—both of which are frequently lent out to the Emperor and the Royal Guard to serve the crown’s purposes. …Until a bit of poking around uncovers some…moderately…alarming monster rights violations, amongst other charges, which lead to the Royal Scientist’s conviction and execution.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): Captured during his attempt to escape from Gaster with his brother, and due to a consistent pattern of disobedience, locked away—permanently. Altered to produce magic at a significantly higher rate and used as a magic battery, he’s got plenty of energy and a whole lot of living to catch up on now that he’s out of the (barely metaphorical) box. What he lacks in worldly experience, he makes up for in luck, intuition, and a cocky can-do attitude, all too ready to make up for lost time.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): ‘Raised’ alone by a cruel ‘father’ whose only use for him was as the pinnacle of his project to create a perfect living weapon for the war against humanity, he is extremely new to a lot of concepts—making decisions, having opinions, being a person… None of that was allowed while he was being developed…er, growing up, so in spite of being tall, intimidating, and built like a truck, he’s hesitant around new people and situations where he needs to do any more than just follow orders. Tentatively starting to branch out and discover what being a monster (instead of a monster-shaped weapon) is all about now that his creator is out of the picture and the brother he thought he’d only imagined is back in it.

Swapfell Fruition: The Royal Scientist is never erased from reality. He continues his work as planned, without interruption and continues experiments which lead to the development of a black ops division for the Empress, a secret service of sorts to serve the interests of the crown and to do the unsavory dirty work involved in maintaining an empire whose citizens are prone to corruption and violence. Espionage, blackmail, and quite a few assassinations are carried out by the unknown team managed, equipped, trained, and modified by the Royal Scientist. …Until one day, he happens to turn up dead and it’s uncovered that the ‘volunteers’ for the program were less willing participants and more lab-grown experiments who were given no choice otherwise. Bearing in mind what’s come to light about the circumstances, the black ops program is disbanded.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): Stopped during his attempt to murder Gaster and escape with his brother, and because of his clearly duplicitous nature, far more tightly controlled and observed and forced into obedience to his creator after. Used primarily as a handler to debrief, control, and monitor the real asset, he developed a keen eye for detail and skill in fact-finding, being secretive, and lying…which was probably a tactical error because he devoted himself wholly to playing the long con and waiting for the perfect opportunity for another attempt to free himself and his brother. A little late…maybe too late…but better than never.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus): The asset and field agent, a thoroughly trained and heavily mentally conditioned assassin, operant on a small library of trigger words and phrases which compel him to follow directives and alter the functioning of his mind and body. He’s extremely competent when working, charming and ruthless and efficient, but off the leash, impertinent, impulsive, and impossible. He does as he pleases whenever possible which, now that his boss/creator/dad is dead, seems like it’ll be all the time. On some weird footing now with his erstwhile handler—his brother—who was apparently less complicit in said boss/creator/dad’s bullshit than he’d thought, but y’know. He’s out of the cage either way and can chase his whims wherever they take him.

Descendtale: A Horrortale variant, a human’s passage through the Underground has left monsterkind without their king, without any of the human souls they’d gathered to break the Barrier, and without a handful of citizens. The long-lost queen returns to lead her people and pivots toward survival, weathering the long-haul trapped Underground with dwindling hope and resources. An alternate food source is the highest priority as monsters are already starting to go hungry in the wake of the chaos, and one is found…though not without its…side-effects. Light sensitivity, slowed metabolism, darkening of extremities, thorn-like growths on the body, and some mental changes and personality drift among other metamorphoses. The Underground takes on a deep-sea quality—slow, cold, dark—monsters subsisting on what they have and waiting patiently for the next whalefall to swarm.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): The human’s disappearance has left him more than a little bitter (betrayed, though he’ll never admit that). His opinion of humans (or anyone new) is quite low after what the last one did to them all and he’s not keen on trusting or believing in any, anytime soon. He’s chilly, selfish, and reluctant to engage—though he does have a slight mean-spirited streak, and is greatly amused by creeping out or otherwise agitating humans by his presence. Coping with the changes they’ve all gone through and settling in to his new normal, but very stubbornly digging in to the small pleasures that his altered biology makes more difficult. Determined to live much in the manner of a cockroach: through just about anything and regardless of the opinion of those who’d prefer him not to.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): The human’s disappearance has left him confused and hurt. He’d thought they were friends, but well…then they did all that and left, never to return. There’s…a lot of conflicting emotions in there and he probably shouldn’t try to unpack it all—he’s just focusing on being the best friend possible from here on out! He’s a little bit clingy with new friends and people he’d like to become new friends but as much as possible, a perfect gentleman, host, and conversationalist. Some strong emotional outbursts from time to time, and his tendency towards unintentionally unnerving statements do make that a bit difficult but he’s very amicable and unlike his brother, only creepy on accident, so…he can still be popular, right? …Right?

If anybody’s interested in a full lore dump for anything, I can draft something up, but that’s the gist of all the brand new ones!

Sorry for all the words! 😅

[cangrellesteponme]

NOVEMBER 4TH - SETTING SUN

(read this on AO3 here)

final day of dadbastian week! i come bearing gifts (soul crushing angst)

this one is… well the prompt is setting sun, what else was i supposed to write? a heartwarming conclusion? i'm an evil creature, what can i say.

in which the contract's last day comes. sebastian gets one thing he wanted from his young master, at the cost of everything else.

enjoy!

The initial plan for the day is to let the young master sleep as much as he would like to.

Unfortunately, he is up before dawn and screams himself hoarse at the mere sight of anyone in his room, so Sebastian stands by the door in the darkest hour, waiting for him to discern the present from the memories. It takes a long time, always, but he eventually opens the door.

“I don’t think I’ll go back to sleep. Should we get ready for the day?”

His voice is both brave and fragile, but his still glistening cheeks make the scales tip in favour of the latter. Sebastian carefully wipes the tears away, as he always does.

The day is… odd, as expected.

Sebastian offers to play any game, go anywhere, eat anything at all, and the child agrees without much enthusiasm, even if he seems to enjoy some of it, at the very least.

The oddest part is that he talks, and talks, and Sebastian cannot help but feel like he is the one being comforted. He most ardently wants to say that it is futile and unneeded, as he is not the one who dies today, and that loss surely overshadows any mixed feelings he may feel about it all. But every time he considers telling the boy he is fine, his voice refuses to cooperate and he feels the familiar constriction of his oath, like his own hand around his throat warning him not to lie.

He persists through the day with those feelings unspoken.

As Sebastian hesitates to tuck him in, his young master grows quiet, pensive. With his — quite understandable — propensity for sombre moods, it usually is no cause for concern. Nothing is usual about this day, and the silence weighs heavily on Sebastian’s mind. It is with the urge to lift that that he thoughtlessly speaks.

“Any concerns?”

It sounds like a pathetic attempt at addressing the thousand regrets of the day, laughably concealing them under the veil of doubt. As if any question, any answer, could rid the end itself of its finality. Oddly lenient, the boy does not point it out.

“Many. I am… afraid? Isn’t it odd to be afraid of something I wanted?” he asks, and he somehow looks exactly like the child Sebastian first met that day. The sight is disconcerting, to say the least. Even more so considering that there isn’t much fear in him, comparatively.

Sebastian has seen him afraid before, has terrified him himself many times, but he has never quite looked like this — it is hard to see any fear in him in the complete absence of fight-or-flight, hard to put an adequate name on this aimless and dulled terror, and the calm facade reigning over it all. Sebastian would once have found it fascinating. He is now appalled at the lack of fight left in his young master.

“I would love to say something nice and heartwarming. In another world, I think I would have told you I hope to be born again as your son this time.”

He sighs and leans back into the pillows, and the pallor of his skin makes him seen gone already.

“But we both know my soul is not going anywhere.”

Sebastian wants to tell him many things, but not a single word comes to mind. He only knows human emotions by name, and recognises them only from an observer’s standpoint, for a manipulator’s purpose. None of this knowledge helps him put words on the sinking weight in his limbs currently at war with his hunger — one tells him to stay, stay and watch over his boy, and the other whispers promises of devouring a soul worth his patience, his work, his attention. For reasons he doesn’t understand, Sebastian does not want to think about what he would do if he had an actual choice.

(He fears, deep down, that even if there were loopholes in the contract, he would have given in to his hunger.)

He has been waiting for this day — it was written into the contract, after all, even if he hadn’t expected to suffer from more than hunger pains in the final hour.

Is this loss, he wonders, or perhaps grief? Would those words ever fit the emotions of a being who is more of a force of nature than its own individual? They might, he thinks, as the thought of eternity without this master makes flesh collapse into an aching void where his heart might have been, if he had bothered to give his body more than the appearance of something arguably human.

Unaware of Sebastian’s turmoil, or perhaps unwilling to do much to acknowledge it, the boy looks up at him, tense and expectant.

“It is time, isn’t it?” he asks as airily as if he wanted tea and not death in his cup.

It is, in fact, time — as much as it will ever be. Sebastian is… unsure of how to proceed. Back in the earlier days of the contract, he planned to make it hurt — that was, after all, the best way of consuming a soul — but now… would he hesitate, if the boy cried? Screamed? Pleaded? It is yet another question he wants no answer to.

“Sleep,” he hears himself say, and he is surprised to hear the faintest tremble in his own voice, and to see it mirrored in his unstable hand brushing hair out of the boy’s face. “I will watch over you until the end.”

He looks… stunned — as if the tenderness behind the offer of a painless end and the gentleness in touch and treatment were inconceivable, grounds for stupefaction. Sebastian realises that the kindness he himself perceives as the dominating force in his spirit is still an odd, uncharacteristic behaviour in the child’s eyes. That even though his soul has known easy, freely given affection in his youngest years, it has also faced storms and tidal waves of pain too great not to submerge and taint the memory of every single past act of love, no matter how immense his daily joys once were. That Sebastian himself once was a devastating flood, regardless of his current efforts to be the sun his young master needs.

All at once, he is overwhelmed by the desire to bargain for another day, another month, another year, anything to right past wrongs and give his boy enough warmth for happiness to freely emerge once again. But the sun sets already.

In the quiet that follows, Sebastian tells himself it is the soul’s sorrow he feels, and not his own — as he is, of course, incapable of such emotional depth — even as sobs too loud to be the fruit of imagination echo through the Phantomhive manor. Not that anyone will ever know, either way.

[starheirxero]

i want to hear you ramble about your au

I FELL ASLEEP LIKE IMMEDIATELY AFTER I POSTED THAT POST BUT YAYYYY OKOK SO.

In this au, I’ve decided 1) that I want to blend the fnaf sb canon as well as the tsams canon and Also my headcanons for both, 2) THAT EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND OKAY, 3) that the exploration and understanding of the kill code is a big focus!

It’s set in a post-Eclipse world where he no longer has the star and no longer continues his reign of terror because he just. doesn’t have enough anger to fuel him to keep going anymore. Eclipse bitterly gives the star back to Moon (who isn’t reset btw!) who either destroys it or keeps it real real locked away, I haven’t decided yet. I think the next several months would be everyone sort of putting their guards down and setting things aside for the sake of being like, “well. we can actually just live… normal lives. we can be like actual people now if we wanted. we don’t have to worry about a persistent, lurking threat… so. who wants to come make a barbie dreamhouse with me.” ya know AHSJABDD

These are the main situations of everyone in the world right now !! I’m gunna elaborate a lil more on each bc uhmmm I have thoughts and feelings and I’m diseased about my own au. anyways more under the cut LOL

So! Due to a reason I haven’t fully decided on yet (either the pizzaplex is no longer inhabitable or it was shut down because of how much shady shit has happened), Sun and Moon no longer have the pizzaplex to work and stay at and didn’t rlly know what 2 do at that point. Earth says that running their own daycare without the influence of fazbear entertainment over their heads is a possibility, and since it’s mostly second nature to them now, they agreed. The building has an area in the back that is disguised as an “employees only” area but that’s just bc it’s where they have their bedrooms and living space stuff lol

Killcode had insisted it be alone after Eclipse stepped down, but Solar Flare’s base programming said that they must help Killcode at every turn. At this point, their sentience had further developed, and KC was like “dude. buddy. u don’t have to follow ur base code u know that right. u can do whatever u want forever.” and Solar Flare was just kinda like. “well. uhm. well what if i want to still stay with you. what if i just want to be around you, despite my primary objective of protecting you.” and KC was like “that’s. that’s really sweet actually okay if u insist” and now I have to just sort out what their living situation is LMAO

Lunar has their own place!!!! I think this was something I decided almost immediately because I don’t think they’d have a whole HOUSE for themselves, but I do think they’d want their own little one bedroom apartment yk?? So they can actually feel independent!! At the time of the story they haven’t had it long enough to be like, super decorated or anything, but it’s still their own home and they love it to death.

and Bloodmoon is the one who’s often at Lunar’s apartment!!! They visit often enough that Lunar has a little area in the living room for them to call their own, as well as a whole shelf in the fridge dedicated to keeping blood bags so they don’t go hungry when they visit. KC also has the same tho!! Except KC might have a whole room for them, depending on whether I make them settled or wanderers.

Eclipse chose where he lives himself. He knows it’s far, he knows it’s quiet, he knows it’s not really his element, but he knows what he’s done. He knows that most of the cast is still in the area where the pizzaplex was, and he doesn’t want to risk bumping into anyone on the off chance it’s someone who decides they should finish their plan to kill him. He isn’t really better, though. He sits and he stews in his own frustration until he can’t handle it anymore and either breaks something or obsessively buries himself in a project so he doesn’t have to think about his own emotions. A stray cat visits him every few days, though, and he thinks he’s starting to get attached.

ANYWAYS AHAIAHSIAHSD THIS IS ALREADY SO LONG. THE JIST IS THAT LUNAR WANTS TI ACTUALLY KNOW HOW THE KILL CODE WORKS SINCE IT EFFECTS SO MANY PPL IN THEIR FAMILY SO HERE’S A SNIPPET OF THE FIC WHERE LUNAR ASKS BLOODMOON ABOUT IT

[frostybitchsworld]

Snake vs Cat Chronicles

Snake vs Cat. The battle of the legendary Gods. The mice folk have told legend of the great Gods’ battle for thousands of years. Some mice refute the legends. But most believe in the Gods still.

The battle occurred in ancient mice civilization, mice historians speculate that the battle took place in 2021. I will recant the story of the legendary battle, although I doubt there is a person who has yet to hear it.

Cat had been a fearsome ruler since his brother, Tiger, had tragically passed. He ruled with an iron paw. He surveyed the territory with vengeance.

He took many mice lives.

Before he became a God to mice kind, he was a monster. Taking any mouse who had dared stray beyond their village borders.

He was a seasoned killer.

Snake was just a youngling at the time of the great battle. It was just his first year of life, yet he was regarded as a highly feared killer. He was hated by all mice folk for he only wreaked disordered havoc.

The day of the battle was not very different from other days, however it was a warmer day for fall, and the giants were more quiet than usual, overall, It was a peaceful day.

Cat, however, had enough of Snake reigning terror in his kingdom, he vowed to take out his opponent. It was early in the day when cat had caught his opponent resting, Snake was caught off guard.

Cat brought snake back to the heavens, but Snake managed to break free! Snake hid, still in shock, devising a plan to make his escape. Snake slithered away, trying to return to The Garden.

Cat, still in shock from Snakes harrowing escape, gave chase. Cat narrowly had snake, Cat had him in his paws, but Snake used his abilities to slip through Cats grasp. Snake was free, but Cat was persistent, Snake knew Cat would hunt Snake further.

Snake, tired, and beaten, decided to stand his ground, Snake stood tall. Cat stared angrily into his eyes, preparing himself to pounce.

“Be gone Cat!” Snake hissed.

“You have wreaked havoc on my land for too long Snake. Your reign of terror must end!” Cat declared stoically.

Snake stood there, staring into the eyes of his enemy, contemplating his options. Snake was weak, he was in no shape to battle Cat.

“I will leave, never to return. All I ask is my life.” snake offered, his voice cracked, he was so tired.

“How do I know you will keep your word?” Cat scoffed, unconvinced.

“I am weak, I am tired, I have no energy for lies.” Snake lowered, surrendering to cat.

Cat began to relax, his tail fur went from spiked, to sleek. His stance went from tall and strong, to calmed.

“Leave, Snake, and never return.” Cat said calmly.

Snake nodded and slithered away. It was generations before Snakes return for The Great Battle Of Dog.

Cat, having eradicated the biggest threat to mouse kind, had been regarded as a God, loved by all.

Snake was regarded as the God of death, feared by all.

[vanadiumcore]

Alrighty I know I never post anything but I decided to post a short summary of my webcomic:

35 MILLION YEARS AGO, a meteorite fell and dispersed on an island now known as the United States of America. As recent, those in proximity to the crystals emerged as crystallized creatures, attacking anyone who is deemed a threat. So in 1983, the government launched a secret soldier project training groups of extraordinary children to defend the nation against the onslaughts… despite the will of many.

39 years later, one child super-soldier named Ame breaks out of the armed facility and stumbles upon a college dropout, Leo, who’s encounter will change the course of world history. Can Ame and peers escape their fates and save humanity or will the reign of extraterrestrial terror persist?

Spoilers below for a picture of my cover photo for the story.

[notveryimpressed]

Mischief's Embrace

In the shadowy depths of the dimly lit lair, I, the infamous and delightfully wicked Villain, plotted my latest diabolical scheme. It was shaping up to be my greatest triumph yet—stealing all the world's supply of anchovies. Yes, anchovies! The mere thought made my evil heart skip a beat with malevolent glee.

Just as I was perfecting my evil laugh (a crucial element for any self-respecting villain), the unexpected happened. The door to my secret lair creaked open, and in walked Hero, clad in his ostentatious spandex suit. Hero was a well-meaning, albeit incredibly dense, do-gooder with an annoyingly perfect jawline.

"Ah, Hero," I sneered, pretending to be surprised. "What brings you to my humble abode? Do you crave my impeccable fashion sense, perhaps?"

Hero stood there, his chest puffed out like a pigeon in mating season. He dramatically pointed a finger at me, the very embodiment of righteousness. "Villain, your days of dastardly deeds are numbered! I've come to put an end to your fishy business."

"Oh, how punny of you," I replied, rolling my eyes dramatically. "But you'll have to catch me first."

And so, our game of cat and mouse began, or in this case, hero and villain. We dashed through corridors, leapt over furniture, and dodged a particularly aggressive potted plant that I had forgotten to water. I must say, Hero was quite persistent for someone who lacked basic intelligence.

After a series of near misses and hair-raising escapades, I found myself backed into a corner. The wall loomed before me, solid and unyielding, and I knew that this was the moment of truth. Hero slowly approached, a glimmer of triumph in his impossibly blue eyes.

"Villain," he declared, his voice a mix of determination and self-importance. "Your reign of anchovy-related terror ends here!"

I couldn't help but smirk, though I knew he couldn't see it behind my mask. I decided to go for broke. With a sudden burst of adrenaline and a strength I didn't know I possessed, I spun around and, before Hero could react, pinned him against the wall.

His eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, I relished the sheer confusion on his face. It was my turn to have the upper hand. And then, with a mischievous glint in my eyes, I leaned in and planted a kiss right on his stunned and perfectly chiseled jawline.

The expression that followed was priceless—an amalgamation of shock, disbelief, and something resembling embarrassment. Hero's cheeks turned a delightful shade of red, completely clashing with his ridiculous suit.

"What… what are you doing?" he stammered, clearly flustered.

I couldn't resist a chuckle. "Oh, Hero, my dear hero. You see, sometimes the line between good and evil isn't as clear-cut as it seems. Perhaps we villains just need a little love to set us on the right path."

Hero's bewildered expression slowly transformed into a sheepish grin, and for a moment, I almost believed he understood. But alas, his limited brainpower couldn't quite process the complexity of my intentions.

With a swift maneuver, I released Hero from my grasp and disappeared into the shadows, leaving him to ponder the meaning of my unexpected act. As I made my dramatic exit, a thought crossed my mind—perhaps there was room for a little mischief in Hero's world after all.

please follow me or reblog my work. it really motivates me

[m00nz-writes]

Sally Face x DBD concept (The Plague of Shadows)

The Addison Apartments have a long and sad history. Every person who dies in the apartments is condemned to wander the place where they died for eternity. The demon who calls itself God tortures every poor soul trapped within the walls, using them as a means to gain enough power to kill the entire world.

In 1991, Sal Fisher moves to Nockfell with his father for one reason or another, inadvertently thwarting the Red-Eyed Demon's plans. The young man befriends some of the spirits and learns more about the possibility of what happened from a young girl named Megan. He gets fully involved when he goes to room 504 and finds a strange hole, crawls inside and meets Red-Eyes for the first time.

Sal, Larry, Ashley and Todd become involved with the cult that worships the Red-Eyes. They find the temple underneath the apartments and realize that the reason why everyone in town is strange is because of the cult. They also find that the bologna for school is made from human flesh and that the math teacher, Mrs. Packerton, is a part of the cult, as are many others.

After disappearing for years, the red-eyed demon returns, and before he can continue his reign of terror, the demon, Sal, and Larry are taken into the Fog by The Entity to play its sick game… and the Red-Eyed Demon is all too happy to play.

Characters: Sal Fisher and Larry Johnson

Killer: Red-Eyed Demon / The Plague of Shadows

Sal's overview:

Character Bio: Sal Fisher has always been adventurous and kind, but time has made him jaded and distrustful of others. Still, he lends a helping hand to his friends and ghosts alike.

Years after the Red-Eyed Demon's disappearance, it seemed as if things were finally starting to calm down, only for things to suddenly heat up. With the sudden return of the Red-Eyed Demon and the return of the Devourers of God cult, Sal believed that Larry had killed himself after sending some terrifying messages. Sal ran back to the apartments, searching for Larry and desperately hoping he was joking.

Unaware that Larry was no longer in their realm, Sal found Larry's note and assumed he was dead. However, Rosenberg was able to reach into the Fog and pull Larry out just long enough to help Sal stop the cult. During the battle with the Endless One, Sal was engulfed by the fog and pulled into the Entity's realm.

When he awoke, he found himself near a strange cabin. He heard someone calling his name, apparently searching for him. When he finally makes his way to the voice, he's reunited with Larry, who reveals that the Entity took him before he could commit suicide. Now Sal finds himself with new people and a strange new mystery on his hands. With the help of Larry and his new team, Sal plans to uncover the secrets of the Entity and the reason the Black Veil exists. It almost feels normal.

Sal's perks allow him to trick and confuse the killer, as well as help his team wherever he can.

Role: The Spiritual Empath

Unique Perks:

The Forgotten Ballad - When a survivor is downed within 5/10/15 meters of you, you gain a 10/15/20% haste effect. Only after reviving the survivor does the effect persist for 10/15/20 seconds for both you and your teammate. Once it's over, the Exhaustion effect activates for 20 seconds. "I can't believe this is real. I can't believe you're really gone." - Sal Fisher

Shadow - After years of dealing with the supernatural, you've learned to work with the other side. When Shadow is active, you gain a 20/30/40% chance of not being detected by a killer's sense ability (if the killer has one), and crows are less likely to fly away in your presence. Shadow will not activate if you are wounded, affected by the Broken status, or if you are the last survivor. "Leave me and my five teeth alone." - Sal Fisher

Spiritual Empath - You have a unique connection to the supernatural and have learned how to hone it and use it to your advantage. When a generator reaches 40%, Spiritual Empath activates and you have the ability to call upon a spirit from the other side to create an audio and visual distraction. Spiritual Empath can only be used twice in a single trial. "It's okay, Mrs. Sanderson. Go hide." - Sal Fisher

Larry's overview:

Character Bio: Larry Johnson has always been known for his rebellious nature. He loved to cause chaos and do whatever he wanted, whether it was considered legal or not. Stealing, graffiti, and pranks were just a few of his favorite things to do.

But he wasn't always so rebellious. Since his father disappeared, Larry found it difficult to live a normal life. He assumed that his father had been taken by some kind of curse, but he later found out that his father had legitimately disappeared.

As he grew older, he stopped getting involved in petty crime and instead began to focus on what he wanted. After living in the Addison Apartments for most of his life, he thought it was time to move on and move in with his best friend and brother, Sal… but all of that came to a halt when the Red-Eyed Demon began trying to connect with him. Scared of what would happen, and feeling that he wasn't as strong as Sal, he decided to try to take his own life to prevent the demon from taking him as a host.

But when he woke up, he wasn't a ghost and he definitely wasn't dead. He was in the woods, but it didn't look or feel like the woods around Wendigo Lake… it was darker, unwelcoming, and cold. He started walking and found the glow of a campfire. As he made his way toward the welcoming light, he found others like him, trapped. Now, with a second chance at life, he's determined to help his new team escape this strange new realm.

Larry's powers will help him protect his team at all costs and fight back against the evil that surrounds him.

Role: The Delinquent

Unique Perks:

Delinquency - You're known for your criminal record, and you're not afraid to get your hands dirty. After being hooked once, Delinquency will activate and the next time the killer comes near you, a skill check will appear and you can stun them for a few seconds by throwing a rock at them. Delinquency can only be used once per trial. "I tried to talk to that detective, but he wouldn't listen to me without evidence. As if my word isn't enough." - Larry Johnson

The Other Side - You may not be dead, but your connection to the Other Side is uncanny. You can see the aura of your allies within 7/13/20 meters of you, and if the Obsession is injured, you will see their aura no matter what. The Other Side will not activate if you are the Obsession in the trail. "Let's put an end to these fuckers." - Larry Johnson

Time To Go - You sacrifice yourself for those you love. When taking a protection hit after unhooking a survivor, you will not be affected. The next time you are hit, you will be put into the dying state. "It can't rain all the time." - Larry Johnson

Plague of Shadows overview:

Character Bio: A creature of unknown origin, the Red-Eyes is a creature that preys on the weak and fearful in order to feed… something. The reason why it does what it does is unknown, but one thing is certain; it wants to destroy all life.

The Red-Eyed Demon had destroyed Jim Johnson's planet with little to no regard, seeing them as simply in its way. The demon has also proven to be very cunning, manipulative, and obviously sadistic. The demon goes after weak people, people it can mold and use to get its way and cause more and more destruction.

The help of the Devourers of God had made it even stronger, but it quickly grew impatient and disgusted with humans, claiming that flesh "irritated" it. The demon is thwarted by Alyson Rosenburg, Stacy Holmes, Greg Montague, and Sandy Sanderson. In retaliation, the Red-Eyes take over another vessel to kill Mrs. Sanderson.

Sal and Henry Fisher move into the apartments, and the Red-Eyes becomes irritated with Sal's interference with the spirits in the Addison Apartments, using them as its vessel. When the teenager finds the ghost of Luke Holmes, the Red-Eyes reveals itself, but is banished by Larry Johnson. After regaining its strength, the Red-Eyed Demon is made an offer it can't refuse: an endless supply of victims to torture and terrorize in the world created by The Entity.

Now the Red-Eye is preying on a whole new collection of poor fools who can't escape, growing stronger and more restless as time goes on. It will achieve its goal of destruction. It will.

Title: The Plague of Shadows

Unique Perks:

Power - Spiritual Infection You have the ability to grasp what is beyond the reach of others. The more you wound the survivors, the greater your hold on them becomes. Spiritual Infection begins at the start of the trial and continues to grow with each hit you make on a survivor, filling the gauge 5% each time a basic attack lands.

Special Attack - Possession Possession allows the Plague of Shadows to temporarily take control of a ghost on the map to scout the map or deal extra damage to survivors. Possession initially lasts 10 seconds, but increases by an additional 3 seconds with each successful attack.

Healing Alters Survivors can cure themselves of the infection by healing alters scattered around the map. The alters will reset the infection to 0%.

Flesh and Blood - Your hatred of humanity drives you and teaches you things others cannot see. When activated, Flesh and Blood allows you to receive a visual and audio cue from one survivor within 3/8/15 yards of your Terror radius. Flesh and Blood has a 120 second cooldown.

Sick Tricks - You are cunning, manipulative, and all around twisted. You thrive on the discomfort and terror of others. When Sick Tricks is active, you can create a visual hallucination for the survivor of one of your victims, causing them to scream and reveal their location. Sick Tricks can only be activated 3 times per trial.

Scourge Hook: The Dark - You're not the only one who can cause harm. Four random hooks will become Scourge Hooks. When a survivor is unhooked from a Scourge Hook, the following effects apply: The survivor is affected by the Blindness and Broken status effects for 15/20/25 seconds. When healed, the survivor suffers from Exhaustion and Hindered for 7/10/13 seconds.

Weapon - The Hand of Infection

[ubersatzofficial]

A Dire Warning

“I am the only person who remembers my father” the young Human began to speak into our recording device, after a brief introduction and an exchange of pleasantries over Zetwian coffee and yinrons. “I mean- his actions are written in Kodoporian history books, I-I’m sure, but.. How name, his face? Well.. That’s all lost, now” Her voice rose barely above a raspy, stuttering whisper, the gaze of her one-functioning eye carefully examining the nonexistent patterns in the carpet below our feet. We set ease to our guest, and assure her that her comfort is our primary intent, and if she does not wish to share her story, there is no shame. But, with a curt shake of her head, lips pursed and eye shut, she dispels the notion as though shooing away a buzzing insect. “I.. I need to- j-just so everyone knows what we’re dealing with”

The beast for which she mourns is one I know well- or, as well as anyone can know the mysterious figure. A brutal despot, a warlord responsible for the now infamous Week of Thorns and Glass for the now thriving planet of Kodopor. Though Kodopor now stands as a rare beacon of freedom and independence within the Galaxy, such peace was only ever achieved after the mysterious disappearance of the individual who brought upon this brief, yet apocalyptic reign of terror. However, one problem persists; despite innumerable witness and records to the invasion, as well as undeniable evidence of the actions and destruction hitherto taken place during that nightmarish week.. There are none alive who are able to remember who this warlord was. So severe is this collective psychogenic amnesia, that even the president of Kodopor, a man held within the jaws of the beast which ravaged his world, sees only fog, and hears only murmurs when recalling the man who did it. The reason for this lost memory remained unknown, impossible to discover, as the very nature of the affliction made understanding it’s cause impossible. That was, until the arrival of our subject. A woman who claims to remember the Warlord of Kodopor; his daughter. Stranger still, the subject presented to us today, should our knowledge of human lifespans hold true, must be no older than twenty-three, though, with scars befitting a seasoned adventurer. Yet, she presses on, regaling the Omniversed with her tale.

“It was… a nightmare. I-I grew up with him, he loved me! He treated me well, I.. I knew he could be.. He could get angry.. But never at me, never towards the people he cared about! Mom.. always knew how to calm him down..” Our subject produces a dejected chuckle, the corner of her lips curling upwards, inversely to the angle of her unburnt eyebrow. “She would hold his chin in her hand, and turn his gaze up into her eyes.. And that would be enough.. He’d just.. Kiss her, and purr.. Sometimes I wonder now how much of that was just for me”

Another pause, and a long drink of coffee.

“It happened after I left, after i’d already started to discover what sort of people they were.” The word is artificial, almost languid in it’s effort. “But this was something else” she continues, “Overnight- just.. Gods, before anyone could even think to stop him! He took.. Everyone loyal to him, and he descended upon that poor planet like a pack of dogs” Unlike before, this word, bubbling up like poison in her throat, feels much more genuine. “I.. I know even mom didn’t want him to do it, she’s.. Cruel, but nothing like that! Never like that! He.. he slaughtered so many, he burned the city to the ground, a-and sat himself at the peak of the rubble like- l-like!”

Her voice hits a brick wall, erected to hold back a flood of tears welling behind her eye, collapsing into stammered pants and shaking hands. A moment of quiet is taken, the weight of her father’s actions weigh visibly upon her, and we begin to question where she acquired those scars. After regaining her composure, looking not unlike someone had cranked a large key affixed to her back, she began to speak again”

“I don’t know why he did it” she admits “Maybe.. Maybe he was jealous? Felt inadequate? Maybe.. Maybe he just wanted to feel powerful.. I don’t know why, he had everything he could ever want! Mom provided for us, nobody could even think to challenge her, a-and he reaped the rewards of that more than anyone else! …but I guess that wasn’t good enough” she speaks in bitter tones, grip tightening around the handle of the hot red coffee mug. It is not the anger of a good woman speaking upon a severe injustice, but rather the trembling, hot-wet venom of a daughter now speaking words she’d never thought utterable about a father once beloved. The furious, annihilated pain of a shattered heart.

“He had to be stopped” the words slip quickly past her lips, her gaze now drawn to the curtains, “I knew I was the only one.. He’d never hurt me, but he’d never give up without a fight, a-and who was I?? J-just some, two-bit magician with a wand and a couple freebie spells! No.. I couldn’t beat him… but I knew someone who could” Her tone now shifts, solidifying, freezing into an ice-cold recollection.

“I stormed his office- not his, but the one he stole, a-and sat in like s-some fat, greasy king! Nobody stopped me. His guards all knew me, I-I think probably they were as shocked to see me as I was to be there. I don’t remember what was going through my head, felt like.. Screaming, but silent all at once- white noise? I-I dunno, sorry” she inhales. “I remember.. The smell, there was broken glass all around me, and, everything smelled like ash and cigar smoke, wine, gunpowder.. I knew there was crackling and big bangs somewhere off in the distance, and, everytime I caught a look out the window, it was just.. Pale grey smoke, blackened skeletons of buildings sat against an ashy sky. I had a gun-” 

She chokes, her words suddenly becoming cold and pallid. “..i-it.. It was a plasma gun, I probably found it on the floor.. Peeled it out of the cold hands of a dead Kodopor soldier. I.. remember thinking about him, h-hoping he’d find some peace, knowing his gun would be the one to save his home. I don’t even think I processed the moment I kicked the door in. I found him.. Lounging, lavished over a swivel chair, with the president beaten to a bloody pulp at his feet. He was.. Distorted, worse than i’d ever seen him. His body was covered in thick tufts of black fur, a-all his limbs stretched out, h-his neck twisted around like a cobra to look at me, that.. Awful mouth filled with grotesque, bloody teeth.. I remember the look so well. That.. prideful, sickening, sadistic smirk he had- a gluttonous cat with the feathers of a canary still poking out the sides of his cheeks. It barely faltered when he saw me.”

She holds herself, the subject rejecting the offer of our hand, as the bitter remembrance of this ashen memory enveloping her wholly and totally like the wicked stinging winds of a blizzard. She regales us; “I kept the gun down, I was panting, stuttering, but I demanded- as loud as I could muster! I said ‘Dad! This has to stop! You need to end this and leave this planet!’ …i’m sure it wasn’t so grand, I stuttered a lot.. He used to say I had the voice of a kitten” Like a knife into soft wood the punctual word sticks, such a sharpness reserved only for names once spoken softly. “I told him if he didn’t put a stop to this all then i’d make him stop! And i’ll never forget what he did next.. He smiled, that.. Sick fuck smiled at me, he laughed, and he walked towards me. He grabbed my wrist, and put the gun against his heart… he told me to pull the trigger, said the bullet wouldn’t even pierce his hide.. And he was right”

A wave of cold numbness washes over her face, reducing her expression to that of a mannequin, as for the first time, her bifurcated gaze meets our own. It is as though we can feel the silent anguish, no pain is more intense as that which shows itself in silence. “But I wasn’t there to shoot him..” She reveals, pantomiming two fingers placed under her chin. “I wrenched my hand from his, lurched back, and I told him no.. I wasn’t going to shoot him.. and put the gun under my chin.. I told him.. If you don’t stop, i’m going to pull this trigger… and you know what mom will do to you..”

To those aptly familiar with the bizarre, erratic, and most esoteric edges of this ever eccentric Galaxy, the name Olivia Yarin holds much weight- the Arbiter of the Arcane, Master of Darkness, She for whom the Gods bow.. The Headmaster of the University. She is a figure shrouded so thickly in fear and mystery, her very form is not but grim silhouette against pale mist in silver moonlight. All who know this being shudder at the mere utterance of her name- the syllables bile to the lips, rising like pitch from within their trembling throats. And yet, our subject, while trepidatious, speaks of her with a tone cavalier to the frightened few who know upon which oath of severity such words are best spoken. For while her father’s name and face is wholly unknown, the name of her Mother.. Is relayed in nightmare.

It was only now that the weight of the situation wholly descended upon us- the missing dots, the stringless points upon our conspiracy boards suddenly intertwining, as though our vision was suddenly shifted a degree to the left. But before we could fully process the implications of such a statement, our subject continued..

A sickly, nervous smile creeps upon her face, as she places a trembling hand to the red, fleshy, years-old scars upon her eye, burning across her cheek. “I don’t wanna say it felt good to see his smile drop like a sack of bricks.. But, i-it is an image I keep very close to my heart. Because he knew, I fucking got him. His tone changed in an instant, he spoke calmly and carefully, he called me things like sweetheart and babygirl.. Begged me to put down the gun. I know he didn’t wanna lose me… but he really didn’t wanna face mom. I told him again, I said he had to leave, and if he took one step loser-! ..it was over for both of us” “He.. lept at me”

Our subject pauses, closing her eye, and holding her arms tightly across her middle. Her pale skin thin enough to show the veins beneath- coal-black hair trailing down the sides of her face in small, frizzy curls, covering the worst parts of her scars.

“I squeezed the trigger just as his clawed hands pressed against my chest, and.. I felt a seering, scorching pain like fire and electricity burning my face. I-I knew something was wrong. I was on the floor, I-I couldn’t see! All I remember were his hands reaching down, human hands… he tried to pick me up, but I wouldn’t let him! I just remember repeating; monster.. monster.. monster.. She showed up after that.. And, I don’t remember too much. Her obsidian skin melted away, the glow in her eyes faded back to the soft brown I remember from my youth, her soft hands, free of shadow, wrapping around my body, cradling my head in that cool embrace.. They were.. Shaking. I felt peaceful. She held me in her arms, and she kept my head soft against her chest. I don’t remember if she cried.”

“By the time I woke up, he was already gone. My mom was by my bedside on Kigal. I wanna say that I had the strength to reject her there and then.. But I cried. Those.. Hot tears burned my face worse than any plasma, each breath I could feel a painful throbbing in my scorched, mutilated eye.. And yet held tight in those familiar arms of hers, my face buried in the silky black fabric of her dress, as her hands gently stroked my back and fixed my hair… it was love, the same pure, genuine, unyielding love i’d known my entire life. I stayed far too long..”

The words she spoke appeared on the screen of our datapad, beholding them with our eyes and ears alike, and yet, we could not believe what she was saying. Our subject spoke of Olivia Yarin, the most powerful, frightening monster to ever scourge the stars of Übersatz- a creature so openly above her rejected humanity that she has only ever appeared in shadow and onyx- It was and remains surreal. And yet, we pressed on, asking our young subject what it is that had happened to her father, what punishment her mother beset upon him, and why nobody could so much as remember his face or name. A man as powerful and feared as he must be understood, so we could, in her own words, know what we’re dealing with. But this proposal was, at least in part, rejected. “I didn’t come here to warn you about him” She speaks in choppy severity. “My mom did to him what she does with everyone that wrongs her.. He was obliterated. A Hex she sets upon her enemies, which she calls a fate worse than death. My mother believes we die twice- once when our hearts stop beating, and once again when nobody remembers we even existed… For someone like my dad? No punishment was greater. She erased him, deleted him, carved his name and face out of the minds of everyone who knew him. When they look back upon those memories, they’ll only recall that someone once filled the place where the dense fog now sits.. But so thick is the ink she has used to blot out his memory, that even the emotions he once instilled within people are now muted and cold. Worse than dead, he never was. And as for what she did to him? I don’t know.. She’s a practical woman, she could have just killed him.. But few things make her as vindictive as someone who harms her family. He could be alive, cursed with immortality and a mangled mind, wrapped in barbed wire and locked within an obsidian coffin, starving, thirsty, undying, choked and freezing as he spins endlessly through the void of deep space, speeding out towards the black void of cosmic infinity between the galaxies, far away from the people who no longer know he was ever there.. Whatever happened.. He’s no longer a problem.”

But the question remained- what was it she wished to warn us about? The answer seemed obvious, but when pressed, she had only this to say.

“You don’t need to be warned about my mom- everyone’s terrified of her for good reason. No.. i’m not warning you about her. She never hurt me, she never once made me cry, or feel in any way unloved. She supported me, cared for me, she didn’t even stop me when I found out who she really was, and left in disgust.. No, i’m warning you, because when she held me that day, stroked my hair, and let me cry into her shoulder, she told me what she had done to my dad for what he did.. And it made me feel good” “I’m not warning you about my mom or my dad.. I’m warning you about me. If I ever become like her, I want you to stop me” -Erin Yarin, Daughter of the Nightmare.

[skxrbrand]

“ Persist with your lie all you wish. You are not fooling me, temptress.”

Kha’xanzyr leered at the tall being across from him, the form of Tanakhuill. They had taken the reigns of his dreams; an afternoon nap that he had slipped into quite by mistake. Instead of a palace or a fiery khornate hellscape, the Keeper had seen fit to place them in the middle of a twisting, endless forest filled with tall ashen trees bearing black leaves. The sky was dark, lit only by stars and an array of buzzing fireflies, casting a gentle blue pall over the scenery. It was completed by a nice sized lake, a gently flowing waterfall stirring the dark blue waters and stars reflected upon it’s surface.

The only thing marring the natural scene was an attendant daemon, a rare ‘male’ daemonette, holding it’s masters wine and finery whilst they soaked into the lake. Tanakhuill’s eyelids peeled back from over their oval shaped, star-spattered eyes. Even mostly submerged, the heavy-lidded exasperation was obvious.

Only because you are much too busy fooling yourself.

The Rasp of the Keeper’s voice intruded into the Bloodthirster’s mind. They looked at him from the water with the lazy gaze of a sated crocodile.

You go back and forth in your thoughts, believing me to be a liar, but fretting if I speak true. I have never seen a child of Khorne stricken with so much doubt, so much terror! Are you not a Bringer of Death? Decisive? Stupid?

“ You are the stupid one if you think you can insult me freely.” Kha’xanzyr mane sparked and he stepped closer to the water. Tanakhuill sighed, allowing their eyes to slip fully closed.

“ Why do you bother me, Harlot? If the danger you speak of is so near, let me rest in peace.”

There is no fun in peace, no sustenance in coexistence. I have needs too, Architect. Though he did have a point. But you have raised no defenses. Your are blinded by your pride and when it kills you where will that leave me? What will become of my prison? Of me?

“ You fear the Malalians.”

I would be a fool not to. True death is the end of all sensation, Blue Bird. And true death is what the days will bring. That foolish Reaper and flighty tart should have killed Blackfury when the chance was open! But there is no use dwelling on should-haves and could-haves.

Kha’xanzyr was silent. Listening, but silent. Hating this thing that plagued his dreams, but unable to find fault in their logic. He recalled the first horde, the first battle. The Reaper hadn’t been present and the Daemon Lords who were around had had their work cut out for them. Khazaan had broken a wing and he had come away with manticore claw marks on his brass hide. And if Tanakhuill was to be believed, that was only a sample of what was coming now.

He heard the sloshing of water and looked over, watching Tanakhuill come closer to the banks of the lake. Kha’xanzyr drew himself up and tensed; the daemonette attendant backed out of it’s master’s way, knowing Tanakhuill would step on him without so much as blinking if he were in their path. The Keeper of Secrets was no fan of being vertical and so their immense size struck him anytime they deigned to stand completely upright. Water cascaded off of the lean creature, leaving glistening dark chitin in it’s wake. Tanakhuill came to loom, scent the emotions and intentions with their tongue.

“ You still think I’m lying?” Tanakhuill asked bemusedly, witheringly. Crouching to Kha’xanzyr’s height, they grinned. “ You are as stubborn as any Khornate. Give me the benefit of the doubt, at least.”

Kha’xanzyr shook his head, “ You would take a mile from an inch.”

He saw their tail give a lash and they stood up straight. They were losing their patience.

“ I was the sentinel of the Ring of Carnality before your father’s untimely visit upon my mother-father’s realm. You are a weapon. So is Khazaan and Skarbrand. Even Slaanesh’s favorite is more blade than shield. There is no daemon in this blasted desert that can build a more effective perimeter than me.” The Daemon ranted, it’s lilt dropping as it complained, walking a circle around the smaller daemon. Kha’xanzyr recalled falling upon that very same perimeter eons ago. He recalled facing down Tanakhuill when they were at the peak of their glory and it being one of his most challenging duels.

And it must’ve shown on his face, because when he looked at the Keeper again, they were knowing and smug.

“ You remember. Of course you do. My potential is carved into your very skin, Coldrage.” Tanakhuill hissed and reached out with a claw, drawing the digit across the Architect’s breastplate. The Bloodthirster grabbed the hand and gave it a threatening squeeze, but the Quilled One didn’t bother trying to snatch it back.

“ You will not hear it from my tongue. But perhaps...one of your own?” They drew away then, back to their full height, with a mocking sneer, “ And you would do well to listen, for your siblings do not lie. When you find the truth, and when you find no way to contend with it, well, you know where to find me. And perhaps I could be convinced to share my expertise.”

---

Kha’xanzyr jolted, sleep leaving him suddenly. The touch of midnight wind was gone, as was the smell of water and dewy grass. In his ear warbled a voice, close, familiar, small. The scent of rocks, metal, blood--

“ -- zyr! Lord Kha’xanzyr!”

The Bloodthirster in question looked down to see a Herald. His Herald, the black-blacked bloodletter Vhiarn Houndsfury. She was atop her juggernaut and surrounded by Flesh Hounds, some of whom were injured. The Architect sat up from the slab of red-stone he’d slumped again, shaking himself fiercely.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

Vhiarn spoke urgently,

“ A Horde of Malalians approaching from the northeast border!” She garbled to him. Kha’xanzyr’s blood ran cold for one second and in the next he was moving.

“ How many daemons? Who leads it?”

“ A large force, my Lord. Verminlords, Skaven, Daemons of Malal. Xhârn Blackfury is at their head, curse his name.”

Kha’xanzyr glared searing daggers into the Herald.

“ You are certain?”

Vhiarn nodded once. Kha’xanzyr cursed, then sent her away to ready Khazaan. By Khorne’s Bloody Axe, the Keeper of Secrets hadn’t been lying.

[templardom]

Welcome to the Apocalypse

The LORD rules over the floodwaters. The LORD reigns as king forever. Psalm 29:10 (NLT)

This is what the Sovereign LORD says: “’Disaster! Unheard-of disaster! See, it comes!" Ezekiel 7:5 (NIV)

Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have found your deeds unfinished in the sight of my God. Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard; hold it fast, and repent. But if you do not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what time I will come to you. Apocalypse 3:2-3 (NIV)

By now I could have lifted my hand and struck you and your people with a plague to wipe you off the face of the earth. Exodus 9:15 (NLT)

Therefore, on account of you the heavens have withheld their dew and the earth has withheld its crops. I have summoned a drought on the fields and on the mountains, on the grain, new wine, and oil, and on whatever the ground yields, on man and beast, and on all the labor of your hands. Haggai 1:10-11 (BSB)

The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and it was allowed to scorch people with fire. They were scorched by the fierce heat, and they cursed the name of God who had power over these plagues. They did not repent and give him glory. Apocalypse 16:8-9 (ESV)

Because you neglected all my counsel, and wanted none of my correction, in turn I will mock your calamity; I will sneer when terror strikes you, when your dread comes like a storm, and your destruction like a whirlwind, when distress and anguish overwhelm you. Proverbs 1:26 (BSB)

Whoever hates Me hates My Father as well. John 15:23 (BSB)

[xasha777]

In a quaint, cobblestoned corner of Victorian London, there existed an enigmatic portrait that hung in the forsaken gallery of an old, derelict manor. The portrait depicted a woman of arresting beauty, with skin pale as the moonlit snow and lips as red as the blood of a fresh kill. She wore a top hat that cast a shadow over her piercing eyes, eyes that seemed to follow one around the room with a gaze that was both enticing and unnerving.

They called her "Madame Nocturne," a name whispered with a mix of fear and awe. The locals spoke of the portrait with hushed tones, for it was rumored that Madame Nocturne was not just a figment of the artist’s imagination, but a specter captured on canvas. The artist, they said, had met her one fateful night at a crossroads, where the living world and the ethereal plain collided in an unholy union.

The artist, bewitched by her beauty, had made a deal to paint her essence, to give her a form that would last beyond the ebb of time. In return, she promised him eternal life. But deals with entities from shadows rarely end well for mortal souls. Upon completing the portrait, the artist was found lifeless, his body aged centuries over a single night, a look of horror forever etched upon his withered face.

The legend of Madame Nocturne grew as whispers of her portrait's dark influence spread. It was said that those who gazed upon her image were ensnared by an unshakable obsession. Night after night, they'd return to the manor, unable to resist her call, until they were driven mad, vanishing without a trace.

One such victim was a young man named Edward, a skeptic who scoffed at the supernatural tales of the townsfolk. Driven by curiosity and the brashness of youth, he ventured into the manor under the cloak of night. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky, and the wind whispered like the voices of the damned as he stepped into the gallery where Madame Nocturne resided.

The moment Edward's eyes met hers, an icy chill coiled around his spine. Her eyes, dark as the abyss, seemed to pierce through his very soul. A smile curled upon her red lips, a smile that was not there before, or so it seemed to Edward.

Days passed, and Edward could not expel her image from his mind. He found himself wandering back to the manor, night after night, drawn to the portrait as if by an invisible thread. He spoke to it, pleaded with it, and finally, screamed at it in a frenzy. His friends found him there, muttering and clawing at the walls, his mind shattered by her unseen force.

The townspeople decided that something had to be done. They gathered one stormy night, their torches casting erratic shadows as they made their way to the cursed manor. They would destroy the portrait and end Madame Nocturne's reign of terror.

But as they reached the gallery, they found not the portrait, but Edward, his eyes now sharing the same abyssal darkness as Madame Nocturne's. The portrait lay on the floor, slashed and torn, yet Edward's appearance was now the mirror image of the haunting visage that once was.

With a voice that was not his own, Edward warned them, "You cannot destroy that which is eternal. I am now her vessel, her will incarnate. She lives through me."

One by one, the townsfolk fled, their screams drowned by the howling wind. Edward, or the entity that he had become, vanished into the night, leaving behind only the tattered remnants of the portrait.

And so, the legend of Madame Nocturne persists. It is said that on nights when the veil between worlds is thin, one can see a figure in a top hat, with eyes dark and all-consuming, prowling the shadows of London. And the manor remains, its gallery empty, save for the echoes of madness and a darkness that will never fade.

[scentedchildnacho]

I definitely recommend carbon neutral or smoking or not your homo sapian qualities will still return your teeth to austra....

Homo sapian is still considered alien alienating so you can't keep those qualities unless all the time...so

Anyway she told me I needed a government phone though and 211 and just be persistent with it....so I told her people capable of intimidating those processes to projects are often black and black has emigrational tendencies to it to over achieve or do way more then common people really expect from the human....whites remind of the punisher but on a normal level no one expects people to tolerate an access office.....

If its African American history those people may have some fame for getting a project through as environmental but I would caution from beliefs that anyone can

211 those are putins idiots and I'm not worthy of vladimirs better officers and he often tries to kill me of his idiots

I told her if I tried to go to 211 you would realize that i am latin to them and they take active part in encouraging im punished in very abusive ways if i wont do felons work punishments like excoriation...

To them every financial felons punishment to re manage trash is just my job to die of and im not going to do things even if reigning jail privilege has tortures for me I can't imagine ...

She told me i should persist so I said I am with what I can do.....I did repurpose available materials for homeless sleeping and that is maybe the first time recently in california people have thought of homeless as having more space from the ground and better spine and neck protections

I am with Rosa parks

I don't want to die rigid and sainted and if I want to go to a nice concert a beautiful lady invited me freely to see her perform then I'm going to go see her sing for me

I dont want to die a worker paying the poor off for every little demand on a homo genetic sheep level they may be didn't completely think through and I'm not going to abuse my ego all the time and give up so much I have for landlords and latin conscription jobs

He is very famous in film for interstitial space use they didn't have light in their shanty town so he went and got all the plastic bottles and filled it with a light chemical and lit up their just shanty life....so yes it's important ...

I do mooc I am a moocer.......and I persist in learning more every day how to see hygiene terrorism for what it is and I am non violently striking jobs and that can take a really long time.....truth is their hygiene terrorists and people with 2nd amendment ideas will gain property before I do their violent idiots that intend to use civil classifications for no real clear reason so they go get guns and give them clear boundaries that tell them if they play that way they will play back at them....

People like me after a lot are very very angry and so I react peacefully because defenseless people finally get maximum penalties on those systems and they go away forever I'm very angry and I'm willing to do what it takes for the world to actually change....

She wanted to know if I had any income so I said no none at all.....why so I said white suffragettes acted after black men and Frederick Douglas writes about the treatment of the American negro that you cannot put it's manifestations into jails or interments and batter it till it will become native or exonerate it's essential or first African manifestation

I would call intentions to white more about Malcolm x....I really don't like police as a terrorist organization and new France as largely a gathering people I'm not really all that interested in colonials

When it comes to construction and becoming something I'm just a worker and Irish strategy is more appealing to me and I don't want to cop my life into it's eve ill burden of conquer the zombies by showing it taking care of or it will conquer you

I'm not really a conqueror I prefer assassin research...

Silence of the lambs.....I think we are here to realize these men that hold us hostage here have a strange scary house though somewhere and her wealth will keep doing this to me if i wont kill it off her.....

My mistress....

He as wealthy killed his own family now why would my lady and mistress treat me this way....it appears to me the men around me in pacific beach with confederate flags get into hospitals also and try to mass murder mentals in there and she will persist in mal treating me till I kill the doctor dissector off her

And she was like go talk to the pastor so I said those are religionists and spiritualists and they do truly share what they have there....

Churches are federal property but they have to negotiate their contracts there and if The Religious authorities are finally this can't be practiced anymore then they have to leave to....

The pastor told me I should try a shelter so I told him it's happened to me too many times that felons are capable of battering and stressing out systems to get attention from the police

The police are kind of interesting that way ...for felons their personal fantasies and it's well if your always a repulsive needy man that continues to parasite on systems already depleted then the police will take care of you and I don't think their going to like being bothered by you ...

A lot of traffickers are still very active in shelters and it's systems compared to women's studies and lesbian recommendations aren't working

Often abused poor neglected battered women have to leave an abusive situation for a different abuser....

So ultimately those systems are actively creating terrorists it's systems of complete domination or torture of mental handicaps are as bad as Guantanamo and leaves survivors with permanent hatred of their attacker and voluntary commitment to help forces willing to remove those systems

Shelters on a mental handicap law level are very illegal....they try to inject viruses or vaccines for experimental purposes their often shockingly unclean their first motive is to disbelieve and blame mental handicaps to be immediately wife killing essentially ...

My mom's friends were veteran wives and I'm not really someone who comes out of my detached shell to feel kind and magnanimous unless it kills attacker or forces systems that deserve it humiliated for its performances

That's why I tend to forgive my lady

He batters and threatens us because he wants to impress a lady cop.....that is police theory I am aware of currently

My impression of lady cops is that they are a foriegn occupation I was never trained to behave that way to my own country competition....so he will have to find out who she is actually has nothing to do with here

He probably will have to find out that he deeply really doesn't know her....

Anyway I've been homeless a long time so I've learned a lot and participated in a lot and I wouldn't apply to a food stamp office my access classification has become more important then that dikshit i create little jobs and i could tolerate a kitchen so if its going to be more most insipid figure out lowest payments and most extreme endurance i would have to kill someone and i dont feel like it its gross

I explained I do need to see an emigrationist or legal group who can feel open time and obligation to be social and that will be hard to find in a place as miserable as pacific beach....it would seem to be Helter skelters were suppose to be allowed a politic like thats womans film career will greatly diminish their opportunity with its narrow idea of race creation....but it seems to me a lot of jobs are more scary back woods people with very unhygienic belief systems and willing to inflict that on others appears to still be its essential humiliations

Well sharon Tate was like a famous actress and most white people can be called on that your older daddy gave you things but she was his favorite

Well many other counter culturalists did strategize normally jhumpa lahiri now you know your not completely educated and at a point of adversity when your excessively flattered so it's more that I don't enjoy gross rippers...I have been humble

Moocs it's more about finding police districts that will stop enlistment and metropolisation because Parisians do feel very crowded and attacked and are willing to de construct and get housing so....it's not going to be feasible to put forward the new York times best selling go there bring that back and start an organization

They are putting up a new building in pacific beach so I assume when some of those rentals are exposed as a prior public prison bathroom are finally just taken down and things become more separated then their will be more green space and I will be allowed to pass through here without tabloid conduct that finds my life too interesting

They won't allow a system that wants to feel more prestige to ever feel separated from the sex industry so when her and his is finally not too together more dignity can be brought to circumstances

And religion and lesbianism use to be separate those things were for women only

I mean i don't know if i am experiencing vibes that balance is coming back ...it's been my experience that situations like this can only be proverbial......and just get worse and worse with only shock value funded....

Slavery people had to endure really painful and invasive clinical rapes to be told their a job in life.....so for some people very compliant with systems hatred for the system is much deeper then mine and they work with policy makers to be sure it's never taken as reputable

Just shut down if covid in many ways those that appear to economically benefit from jobs are actually the people who destabilize it's hive and turn it into something to be run down and left...

Anyway........uhm my Paris class was like not really they have been going around like they deserve the good kind benefits of unions and their really not good kind people and have not accomplished what their economic portfolio claims.....and then my situation remains completely unfunded and that's not fair to me at all I'm just not a bad person or a criminal.......so eventually it is possible that it will be they won't live so grossly anymore soon....

I mean I don't know what They will all do but eventually it will be I won't live unreformed anymore

Some of the women that had to really starve have explained to me that their situation did go through rectifying....and so it's that I do have to prepare for further battery because it won't be given unless experimental reasons are allowed....

Indianism is more prevalent so I feel very pressured to come up with a euro food politic like carbon neutral....

When really I was white and truthfully medicine is about the scientific method not prevention

Fast food honey doesn't really bother me.....but I'm having to be confronted that it was compromising some of my body processes

I am a feminist so it's that Dave the lecturer in Edinburgh gets his brain pulsations and his experience is what conditions reality and the men around are serial killers that won't stop shocking themselves with bad lighting that doesn't want them around and so is not fixed

So im not really sure my depression is mine...if you ask me they go to those lights to infect everyone with their terrible problems

Dugas look alikes and lights that look like pound ass....

Everything use to for a moment appear like it was going to be okay before those men came here and now he puts scare crow into a box...

[cobbledcrossroadtavern]

The Week of the Humanoid

I'm cis and straight, but I try dismantle the oppression machine when I can. This is important context for what follows.

This week's card is the III of Humanoids. The Humanoids card feature a female-presenting humanoid--possibly elf or elf-kin based on the ears--in front of a crescent moon rising behind her. Three golden swords pierce her neck; one also pierces her left hand. Her eyes are closed and her expression is neutral. Its color scheme is divided diagonally, roughly into quarters. Three of these colors are variations of blue and green, while the right quadrant is pink/purple. It's a fitting card for the first full week of Pride Month.

I don't celebrate Pride Month on my own behalf, but I do on behalf of lots of people that I love. Everything about this card is a reminder that there are many valid, beautiful ways of being human. The background color isn't blocky, it's gradient, and the lines between them are defined by the overlapping of colors rather than the separation of them. The colors are also suggestive of the "blue/pink" divide that so many movie posters use as a metaphor for bisexual characters having identity crises. (Once you see it you can't unsee it. Start with Rey in the new Star Wars movies and go from there.) The swords are obviously hardship and violent oppression. The fact that they're golden was probably just a cool visual effect, but I'm also thinking a lot this year about corporations that make their social media logos rainbow-colored for the month of June and then in July donate to the election campaigns of the most heinous bigots in US politics. (Ron DeSantis leaps to mind.) Her facial expression is one of either serenity or death, but her hands are held upright in a manner I associate with saints' icons and other religious artwork. It looks to me like martyrdom, the transcendence of the limits of the physical form, the persistence of existence in the face of extinction-level events. But it could just as easily be death.

(A tangent on that: queer people exist now, as they have always existed, and they will continue to exist long after DeSantis's reign of terror turns on him and takes his head. Queer people deserve more than existence. Their persistence risks washing over the intense harm, the mindless cruelty that individual real people are suffering right now. A western reporter (I think) once confronted Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (I think) with the idea that there are gay people in Iran, whether he likes it or not. His response was, "Tell me their names and where they live." DeSantis reminds me a lot of that guy. The point is, even though the fascists won't erase the existence of queerness, they're hurting a lot of queer people in the attempt.)

Above I said the figure was female-presenting and I used "she/her" pronouns, but there's no reason to assume that except my own interpretation of facial expressions, costume, and color schemes.

According to the divinatory meaning provided in the book, the positive reading of this card is perception: see through the false to determine the heart of the matter. Between you and me, I could use some of that in the coming week.

[johnzwerenz]

THE MYSTERY OF WYCLIFF MANOR

The Mystery of Wycliff Manor

                                                   By

                                        John Lars Zwerenz

THE MYSTERY OF WYCLIFF MANOR, A STORY OF HORROR

WILL BE RELEASED WORLDWIDE THIS APRIL OF 2023

AUTHOR: JOHN LARS ZWERENZ

PUBLISHER: GREEN FROG PUBLISHING

THE MYSTERY OF WYCLIFF MANOR, A STORY OF HORROR WILL BE RELEASED WORLDWIDE THIS APRIL OF 2023

AUTHOR: JOHN LARS ZWERENZ

PUBLISHER: GREEN FROG PUBLISHING

TO MARY, QUEEN OF ANGELS

Once upon a time, although not for long, Wycliff Manor was a place of peace and beauty....

AT THE FOOT OF A CASTLE

At the foot of a castle in the gilded, setting sun,

In the warm and fragrant air of a summer’s belvedere,

Through a deep, dense forest a river does run

Winnowing through the trees, azure hued and clear.

And in the languor of the night when stars shine like wines

In a minor tone when the songbirds sighA maiden of regalia, from epochs long gone by

Walks out upon the terrace, gazing on the pines.

Her flowing, dark mane is lovely, long and fair

And her royal gaze is of the sacred night

When songbirds sing in the sad moonlight

Above the many fountains rising in the square.

Yet now, it is not.... The mansion harbors only what is purely evil... It is ancient, cold, old and forsaken...

In order to write The Mystery of Wycliff Manor I wrote only in the early morning hours, when the world was dead, and the only light emanated from a shrouded, cloudy moon. My solitude was sacred, and in writing this book I witnessed many dark things. I began to know the true nature of unmitigated evil, and the all too real dangers which confront us all.  And although the details of this book are fictional, its primary topic, that of a real, empirical hell, is not.  This book is a warning, a grave and prescient one. Yes, there is a hell. I know it now. I pray with my entire being that we are all spared.

  The Mystery of Wycliff Manor was penned with a gravely important eschatological meaning in my mind, addressed to all its prospective readers. This story was deliberately conceived and crafted to serve as a real and solemn notification to all who peruse this book that grave, evil deeds, unrepentant, will lead to eternal loss. That, there is indeed, in ontological existence the reality of an eternal place of everlasting punishment for unrepentant souls who die in a state of mortal sin.  This novel is direct and simple in expressing that absolute objective truth.    

 The teachings of Christ and of the Magisterium of His Church are comprised of a collection of objective facts communicated by God Himself unto sinful humanity and are not to be dismissed as fictional tales made up by the mythological minds of mortal men.  Hell is not the product of men and women possessed with dark and dreamy imaginings.  Nor is it a place of stagnant horrors.  The longer one is condemned to this eternal abode of ineffable terrors, the worse one’s punishments become.  The worse they are seen, heard, tasted and felt - and each of these horrors are devoid of an end.  

  I made use of the specific story in which I espouse in detail the correlative horrors of this manifold truth. This is all done in order for the reader to understand the sobering and stark reality of eternal damnation for the gravely serious and persistent sinner. Hopefully in doing so, the reader becomes edified in the undeniable realities of the darkest realms of moral justice.

  For throughout the history of humanity evil deeds have, like a corrosive thread, corrupted the goodness which God first instilled within the soul of man. At times this evil has found its way into vortexes of certain physical and intangible places where malevolent forces have made their home and reign there supreme and unchallenged. Wycliff Manor is such a place. And if anyone doubts that a single house can be entirely given over to all things evil, then let him read on.   - Author, John Lars Zwerenz

 “But he knoweth not that the dead are there; and that her guests are in the depths of hell.” - Proverbs 9:18

This book will be available on a global scale this March of 2023 at a bookstore near you and online the world over.

Copyright © 2023 Green Frog Publishing

 New Novel, Best Selling Author, Horror, Fiction

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ is an American journalist, musician, songwriter, and poet renowned for his classic romantic, impressionistic, and mystical works. Described as the "Monet of the Muses," his poetry inspires readers to feel the powers of spiritual and physical love. Author of twelve books of verse, John is a classic American poet. He lives, loves, and creates in Glendale (Queens), NY. You can meet John on Amazon at:

John Lars Zwerenz Amazon Page

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ is an American journalist, musician, songwriter, and poet renowned for his classic romantic, impressionistic, and mystical works. Described as the "Monet of the Muses," his poetry inspires readers to feel the powers of spiritual and physical love. Author of twelve books of verse, John is a classic American poet. He lives, loves, and creates in Glendale (Queens), NY. 

[jonathanvik]

Starlight Dream - Chapter 32

“Hey!” Ume said, running up to her. 

Himari tilted her head, curious why the elder magical girl was speaking to her. Their interactions, so far, hadn’t been that friendly. Himari would almost characterize them as borderline hostile. 

“Hey,” Himari said, deciding to be nice anyway. She disliked being mean to people, even jerks. 

“We haven’t really spoken,” Ume said, somewhat awkwardly. “Want to go out for lunch?”

“I’d love to! Aiko told me about this super stylish shop nearby.” Seina’s friend seemed to have an eye for fashion. Impressive, considering she’d lived in slavery most of her life. 

“I suppose,” Ume said, crossing her arms. “I’ve had little need for fashion.”

“Really?” Himari said, blinking in surprise. 

“I rarely use my civilian form. It leaves me too vulnerable to a magical girl attack.”

“No.” Ume’s partner, Hope, said. “It’s because you have a terrible fashion sense.” 

“Hope!” Ume said in protest.

Himari fought the urge to laugh. “It’s fine. I’m sure we can find you something nice! Besides, I’ll keep an eye out for any trouble.”

“It’s still too much of a risk,” Ume said, frowning. But the girl relented, untransforming after Himari’s insistent badgering. Her civilian form wore a shabby gray and black school uniform, with only a bright red box around her neck for decoration. 

A reluctant Ume followed Himari into the market area. Sellers peddled their various goods from stalls, buyers ruthlessly haggling for better prices. They sold products ranging from jewelry to actual farm animals. It was like a marketplace from a historical movie! 

Some buildings housed indoor shops, but they were rarer, selling more specialized goods. It was a fun experience, nothing like she’d experienced back home. 

“Would you like this shell necklace, dear? I can promise a good price.” An older woman said. Much to Himari’s sadness, the granny was missing a leg. She wasn’t the only one who’d suffered such dismemberment, either. The vampire’s reign of terror had left terrible physical and mental scars that persisted in their victims. However, Himari saw most stayed positive despite their adversity.

Himari gave a polite refusal, guiding Ume along further. The older magical girl wasn’t as impressed by the market, instead keeping a watchful eye for trouble. Some wonderful scent caught Himari’s attention, giving Ume a slight nudge. 

“How about soba for lunch?” Himari asked, guiding them towards an old fashion soba stall.

“Sure,” Ume said, still distracted. 

Old habits die hard, I suppose. Still, Himari promised to give the girl a fun time. 

“What will you have?” The stall’s owner asked. 

“Pork, please!” Himari said. 

“Same,” Ume said, nodding. 

They shared their bowl with their fairy partners, Himari’s eyes widening as she slurped up her first noddle. It was fantastic, the best she’d ever had. From Ume’s wide-eyed expression, she thought the same.

“Grandpa, your soba is the best!” Himari said.

“Thank you, young lady.” The stall owner replied, giving a grateful bow. “I inherited this stall from my father. Been a family business for generations! Though the vampires forced me to close it for several years.” Grandpa’s mode darkened before brightening. “Still, old bones haven’t lost their touch, eh?”

“Indeed, you are a true master,” Ume said, giving a rare smile. Himari supposed her past gave her a few reasons, too. 

As they ate, Himari’s companion suddenly asked a random question. “How old are you?”

“Eh?” Himari almost choked on her noodles.

“I’ve just learned Seina’s pretty young. I’m just wondering if you’re similar.”

“Oh, I see. You’re shocked to learn Seina’s only ten!”

“You already knew about that?” Ume asked, surprised.

“Sure. Seina told me herself.” The poor girl. Seina sure had plenty of responsibilities for someone her age.

“Figures.” Ume sighed, entering a gloomy silence.

“Eh, a couple of eons.”

It was Ume’s turn to almost choking on her food. “What?”

“It’s complicated. I entered the outer dimensions recently. It complicates matters. Time and space mean little there. So, my exact age is indeterminable. Before my trip? About two hundred.”

“Huh,” Ume said, somewhat lost for words. “May I ask another question? Why did you betray Starlight Dream? You served them for centuries.”

“Not out of choice! Do what they ordered or die.” But Himari sighed, staring into her soba. “But I suppose that doesn’t excuse the terrible things I did. That is the reason I joined Seina, though, to make amends. Someone needs to stop the suffering.”

“Hmm.” Ume didn’t sound totally convinced. 

“I’m not alone, you know!” Himari said defensively. “We’re all terrified to oppose the Devil Princesses!”

“Yes. But can you be forgiven for such terrible crimes, forced or not?”

“I know.” Himari sighed. “But being human is about learning from our past mistakes and growing from them. Trying is better than quitting, right?”

“Though I’m hardly one to judge.” Ume gave a self-deprecating smile. “My sins are numerous.”

“I understand your doubt, but give me a chance to prove myself,” Himari said, with feeling. “I promise you, I want to make my past right.”

“You seem like a good girl. I’ll keep an open mind.”

“Great!” Himari said, Ume gasping in surprise as she seized the other girl’s hand. “Friends!”

After recovering from her shock at Himari’s sudden forwardness, Ume nodded. “Friends.”

“Good! Let’s eat up and do some shopping!” Himari scrunched up her face. “Something other than a drab school uniform.”

“Okay, okay,” Ume said, but she smiled. 

Ume’s just lonely. Has she ever experienced a normal life? No wonder she was so prickly. They ran hand in hand as they darted through stalls, trying on everything they could. While reluctant at first, Ume started having fun at the third clothing stall. 

“How does this look?” Ume positioned a sundress before a mirror, seeing how it would look on her. While cute, the color wasn’t flattering. The girl was terrible at picking out colors. Himari wondered if her new friend was color-blind. 

“Get this one.” Himari pulled out a similar dress from a rack. “Blue matches your eyes.”

“That looks great on you, Ume!” Hope said, beaming. 

“Thanks.” Ume’s said, hiding her reddening face as she pushed her purchase toward the woman at the cash register. “This one, please.”

“Sure thing, dear.” The woman replied. 

“Where to next?” Himari said as they entered a park, leaving the stalls they’d been exploring. Ume wore her new outfit, looking absolutely adorable. As usual, Himari’s taste was impeccable. 

“Some ice cream sounds good.” Ume pointed towards a stall near the beach. 

“Sounds good,” Himari replied, watching in amazement as her friend took four scoops over her single one. She hoped the girl would be careful and not ruin her new dress with them. 

“You sure like sweets,” Himari often spotted Ume eating Pokey sticks. She must have gone through four packs during the other day’s meeting.

In response, Ume gave a noncommittal grunt. She jabbed at her bowl of ice cream with a spoon, a monstrosity where each scoop was a different flavor. They ate in silence as Ume decided to not respond any further. 

“Thanks for this,” Ume said, breaking the silence. “I needed this more than I thought.”

“You’re welcome,” Himari said. “I was eager to learn more about my new teammate. When I was on Starlight Dream, I’d always heard rumors about you. Turns out you’re just as cool in person!”

“Is that right? You aren’t what I expected, though.”

“Really?” 

“You’re so normal. It’s a miracle you didn’t get purged!”

“Not for a lack of trying.” Himari forced those terrible first years from her mind. She’d seen so many nice girls dead for the slightest slip-up or careless word. The training had been cruel, meant to harden their hearts and terrify them. 

“But it’s better after you survive general training.” Himari gave a slight snort. “The entire system is unwieldy, actually. They recruit so many magical girls that the higher-ups can’t keep track of everyone. So some are more productive than others.”

“Hence why girls like Takako are in it,” Ume said, her tone thoughtful. “I’ve never seen a girl so lazy.”

This earned a laugh from Himari. “If you keep your head down, it isn’t the worst.” Though, some magic girls were quite enthusiastic about spreading suffering. Himari often wondered if they were ever human. 

“The real villains are the Devil Princesses!” Himari said with feeling. “If we beat them, maybe we can restore Starlight Dreamto a force for good! It just needs some reformation!”

“Is something the matter?” Himari said, catching Ume’s odd expression. 

“Oh, nothing,” Ume said. “I’m just wondering what I was even fighting for?”

“Huh?”

“I thought I needed to kill every magical girl to stop Starlight Dream.” Ume looked away. “I never imagined good people might be stuck within it. From the beginning, I should have aimed for the leadership instead. Stupid.”

Himari grabbed Ume’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “And I’ll be here to help you. Together, we can make amends for our past mistakes and make a better future.”

“… Thanks.”

“Ume, are you crying?” Hope said, her voice teasing.

“No.” Though, Himari noticed Ume avoiding her gaze. “Hey, look! They have an old fashioned Japanese artist over there!” 

“Okay, okay!” Himari laughed as Ume pulled her in that direction to avoid their current conversation. 

---

“So, this is the place?” Miko asked. 

“Oh yes!” Nyx said, beaming. “This ugly rock is Seina’s home!”

“Yuck, you aren’t kidding about this being a junk pile.” Miko studied the squallier these plebs called home. From their clothes alone, it was apparent these people had almost nothing. Despite being on the verge of being condemned, residents packed them. Some lived in actual shacks near the beach. 

Miko turned toward their accomplice for her insight. “What do you think, Chō?”

“…” A pause as the girl observed two small children laughing as they pushed a shopping cart across the street filled with a random assortment of junk. “…”

“You’re not wrong,” Miko said, shaking her head. “It’s too hopeful around here.”

“…”

“My partner has a good point!” Kelv said. “Considering the planet isn’t a wasteland, we’ve somehow beat the Devil Princess to the punch!”

“Miracle that.” They’d known the universe’s location, but the Devil Princesses could cover a considerable amount of ground with their godlike abilities. 

“...”

“I know,” Miko said, scowling. “If we fight Seina and her flunkies, it’d only attract the Devil Princess’s attention.” Then they’d be in real trouble. Their leaders wouldn’t appreciate someone getting in their way and stealing their prey. “We’ll just need to be quick.”

“...”

“Yes, I’m positive Seina lives in Osaka! Her accent gave it away.” Nyx said defensively. “She lives in the Prime Minister’s residence. I bet she’s still there.”

“If Emiyo is anywhere, it’d be there,” Miko said, nodding. “But that raises other issues. Seina and her flunked wouldn’t be easy foes.”

“...” 

“That’s a bold plan, Chō.” Miko considered the possibilities and risks before nodding in agreement. “But necessary if we’re to find Emiyo.” She shuddered, considering the dank torture dungeon Seina probably had her kept. 

“...”

“Okay,” Miko said, nodding in agreement. “We’ll wait till dark to enact our plan! We can’t afford to get caught” While she didn’t fear Takako, the girl had a habit of being unpredictable.

“Sure, let’s find someplace comfortable,” Kelv said, stretching. “I’m starving. We can snack while we talk. Hey, they have rice cakes!”

“...”

“We’ll get some sushi too.” The fairy replied. “I see a cart over there.”

Miko beamed. It wouldn’t be long until they rescued Emiyo, and this miserable planet was a smoking crater. And then, promotion for dealing with an infamous enemy of Starlight Dream! Her rise to lieutenant was long overdue! It’d take some convincing, but the Devil Princesses would appreciate Seina and her cohorts being captured alive. Miko giggled, already imagining her new office once they concluded this mission. 

---

“Good work,” Ume said. “That should be enough for today.”

“Thank goodness!” Seina’s arms were sore after defending hundreds of attacks, each striking harder than the last. Defending against her new teacher hadn’t been easy, Ume always attacking where Seina would least expect. Her bodyguard nodded when she mentioned this. 

“Yes, she seems to have considerable fighting skill.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “Are you self-taught, Ume? I don’t recognize your fighting style.”

“More or less,” Ume said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve always had a talent for combat.”

“We should get you a proper teacher.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, considering. “You still have much room for improvement.”

Seina paused, a sudden thought occurring to her. “These last centuries of endless fighting and you never got a proper teacher, Ume?”

“No, I didn’t think of it,” Ume said, flushing.

“That’s Ume for you. So obsessed with revenge, she forgets everything else!” Hope said, laughing.

“Shut up, you!” Ume snapped back. 

“You’re not teaching her karate, Mr. Kiyojiro?” Seina asked when she brought up the point. 

“No, it doesn’t suit her.” Her bodyguard said. “How about boxing? A gym opened a couple of days ago. The coach will be happy to teach you. He’s an old friend.”

“Boxing?” Seina said, confused. “But that’s not a martial art.”

“It is, but fancy martial arts aren’t everything.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “A nasty right hook is just as viable as a palm strike. Besides, its uncomplicated nature suits Ume.”

“Really? Why didn’t you suggest boxing to me, though?” Seina asked. 

“Because you need to learn discipline, and karate seemed the best suited to provide it.” Her bodyguard said, making Seina flinch. He always seemed to draw attention to how easily distracted she could be. It wasn’t her fault she considered training boring. Seina pointedly didn’t make a comment on her bodyguard’s unflattering observation. 

“I’ll consider it,” Ume said, considering the idea.

“What about me then?” Himari said. “I’ve never trained in fighting whatsoever.”

“You can join us in our karate lessons.” Her bodyguard said. “See if you like it.”

“I will!” Himari said, beaming with enthusiasm. “It sounds fun!”

Am I the only one who finds training stupid? Still, she supposed it’d be fun sparing with Himari. A sudden wave of loneliness struck her, reminding her of when she’d been training partners with the disguised Takako. They’d been fun days, even if it’d been a deception. 

If she pestered Takako enough, would her friend join them for sessions? While a long shot, it seemed worth a try. Otherwise, her friend would just lounge around all day, reading manga. But would training even help her friend in the long run? Takako seemed better suited to magic than martial arts.

A yawn overtook her, the day’s exertions finally gaining their hold. Seina allowed her bodyguard to guide her toward her room. Colten rested on her head, Seina smiling when she heard his quiet snoring. With another yawn, she slipped into her pajamas and brushed her teeth at Mr. Kiyojiro’s insistence. 

“Goodnight, Seina.” Her bodyguard said, pulling the covering over his dozing ward. He gave her a gentle smile. While odd on his rough, gruff face, it was full of affection and love. 

She snuggled close to Colten, enjoying his tiny body’s warmth. “Night. Mr. Kiyojiro.” Seina barely finished those words, falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. 

---

Seina jerked in surprise as a hand clasped around her mouth, startling her awake. An unknown girl with brown hair glared down at her, venom in her eyes. Seina's heart almost beat out of her chest, recognizing the girl’s elaborate costume. She was a magical girl. 

“Where is Emiyo?” The girl asked.

Eh? Seina shook her head, not understanding the question. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Behind the mysterious magical girl was a giant robot, its appearance something out of an anime. Its chaise was white, shaped like an egg with arms and legs. It filled the room, its domed head almost hitting the ceiling. Behind the cockpit’s glass window was a green-haired girl with thick glasses who watched the scene impassively. 

 Seina shook her head, difficult with the brown-hair magical girl’s vice-like grip. She flinched as the girl tightened her hold. 

“I repeat, where is Emiyo?” The girl growled. “My power should allow me to find her anywhere, but it isn’t working. I’d find her even if she was dead! Where have you hidden her?”

Emiyo? Seina’s mind raced, wondering why a magical girl would rush to another’s aid? Didn’t the magical girls of Starlight Dream all hate each other? In desperation, Seina gave a slight shake of her head. 

“You don’t know, or you don’t wish to tell me?” The brown-haired girl asked. Seina hissed in pain as the other girl’s grip threatened to tear her poor head off. “You can say a few words. I’ll snap your neck if you even attempt to summon your powers or cry for help.”

Seina nodded in understanding, tears stinging her eyes. She’d never been this scared before, completely at the other magical girl’s mercy. Her knees buckled, praying for someone to save her. 

“She escaped! No clue where she went!” Seina said, trying to be as accurate as possible with so few words. 

“What?” The brown-haired girl frowned. “A lie, surely!”

“No, Miko. It makes sense!” Said a familiar voice. It was Emiyo’s partner, Nyx. “She’s using her time powers to become out of sync with the universe! An easy trick to avoid detection magic. My partner is clever. Otherwise, Takako could find her easily.”

“So we broke into here for nothing?” Miko said, sighing. “Oh, well. If we kill Seina, it’d all be worth it!”

No! Tears slipped along her face to plop onto Seina’s sheets.

“Later!” Miko said, her tone all false cheerfulness. 

Everyone in the room blinked in surprise as the arm holding Seina dropped away, blood splattering over her nice sheets. Seina screamed, scurrying away from her captor’s arm as it landed on her knees.

“What?” Miko screamed even louder, grabbing at her stump in terrified confusion. 

“I can’t allow that.” The newcomer held his sword in a protective stance, huddling over her.

“Are you okay, Seina?” Paliah said, his tone gentle and kind. It contained none of the nervousness he’d displayed before. 

“Y-yeah,” Seina said, her words coming out in a jumble. “Thank you.”

“You the hell are you?” Miko said, staring at Seina’s rescuer in both outrage and apprehension.  

“Call me, Paliah.” The knight said. “I’m Seina’s protector. Touch a hair on her head again, and I’ll sever yours from your neck!”