#Man these poses were fun to draw - hand poses and body and ah <3 Fun!

[sysig]

Blood sugar levels (Patreon)

[soupbabe]

omg hi i just realized i would also like a chubby s/o with rohan as well please (i am not sure if he would be considered part of the duwang gang or not!) please and thank you! the s/o can be gender neutral or whatever you’re most comfortable with!

Figure Drawing (Rohan Kishibe x Chubby/Plus size! Reader)

Rohan asks Y/N to model for him

Warning(?): Light insecurities, but nothing major ! If this kind of thing makes you uncomfortable please feel free to not read! <3

The bell jingled in greeting as you entered the cafe. You scanned the area, looking for the manga artist you called your boyfriend. Today he asked you to meet up here, only saying that he just wanted to chat and nothing else. Of course you were nervous on what that could mean; you've been dating Rohan Kishibe for about a month now and it's possible that he could've been bored of you already.

Rohan found you first and called you over. "Ah Y/N, glad you could meet with me darling" he gave you a quick kiss that never failed to make your cheeks heat up. "Hey Rohan. What did you want to talk to me about?" You asked, preparing for the worst to come. You liked Rohan a lot, so if he really did want to break up, you needed all of the mental prep you could get. "Oh yes, about that. Later this week I want you to model for me. As an artist it's my duty to capture diversity in my work. Drawing the same old body type gets repetitive and boring fast. Plus, I don't need people thinking I'm a one trick pony."

Oh that's a lot to take in.

It's not that you were ashamed of your body. You were bigger than most people and you taught yourself that it wasn't something to feel bad about. No one tried to make you feel bad about it. And if anyone did give you unwarranted comments, you would simply brush them off. You figured that they were just insecure themselves and hated seeing a fat person be confident in themself for once. This kind of attitude was actually what attracted Rohan to you in the first place.

Soon enough the day came. You stood at his doorstep with a mix of nervousness and excitement. You knocked on the door and soon enough, the man who's been plaguing your thoughts ever since he pitched the idea welcomes you into his home. "Welcome Y/N, I hope you're doing well." He looked at you with a smile.

"Rohan, are you sure about this? I haven't had any experience doing any model work." Rohan rolled his eyes "Of course I want you to do this. I wouldn't be asking you to do such an important job if I didn't think you were perfect for it." You thought about it and you decided to agree. You trust the artist enough and who knows, it could be a fun experience.

~

He led you into his office, blinds closed and a changing divider in the corner of the room. It was facing away from his desk. "Okay darling, I'm going to need you to undress over in the corner. Nothing drastic, it's harder to capture the natural human form if they're covered in clothing."

Of course you knew this, it was a detail he mentioned when you two were talking at the cafe, but you didn't really think too much about it. Although you don't tend to wear baggy or oversized clothes, he hasn't seen everything. He hasn't seen every stretch mark, cellulite, etc decorating your plush body. It feels different when you're in your underwear compared to actual clothes, no matter how they fit or how much it reveals. You guess it's just how intimate the situation is, despite you two not doing anything too exciting.

You stepped out in front of the divider in your undergarments, an unusual shyness coming over you. Rohan glanced at you and his face turned pink. He was breathless in the best way possible, you were truly perfect to him. "You look amazing, Y/N." He took your chubby hand in his slightly boney one and led you to an area where he wanted you to stay at. "Now remember, if you start feeling uncomfortable tell me. I have no issue ending the session if you don't want to continue." "Of course." You smiled, feeling more confident as he looked at you with a lovestruck expression only you could see.

All throughout the afternoon he asked you to do multiple poses, ranging from a simple front, side, and back view of your body to action based poses. He allowed you to take as many breaks as you wanted and he praised you constantly for being a great model.

It was surprisingly a fun afternoon, you too were able to be closer than you were in your relationship and teasing Rohan for staring at you for longer than he should was a highlight of your day. Maybe you should ask to be his model more often.

[simpknight]

Kinktober 11: Hijikata Toshizo x GN!Reader  (Shibari)

Rating: Mature

Words: 1416

Warnings: Shibari - Sexual tension

"Wait, when you said you wanted a model you didn't say I'd have to pose naked!"

"What, did you really think you would be wearing clothes?" Hokusai just stared at you as if you were crazy.

Apparently she had organized a drawing session and asked you to pose for her and the other servants. Obviously you accepted and even helped her to prepare your room so they could sit around you and draw, but when she asked you to undress you felt a bit uncomfortable. Luckily you had a bath robe you could use while they didn't start.

"She's right, Ma-chan." Agreed Osakabehime "You will never learn how to draw if you don't draw por... Eh, I mean, naked people."

"See? Batty gets it."

"Master, you need to relax." said Da Vinci, who you saw drawing some quick sketches "Your body is beautiful, you don't have to hide it from us."

"I'm not scared of showing my body, it's just I haven't done this before so I'm nervous ok?"

"I don't mind master wearing clothes, if they're not comfortable maybe it's better that way." Murasaki seemed to be the only one on your side. Well, Mash too but she was visibly uncomfortable while the writer was perfectly calm. The two of them weren't artists but they wanted to start drawing as a hobby so this looked like the perfect occasion to begin.

"It's ok, I think I can handle it. What do you want me to do? You said you wanted to try something."

"Yeah, about that.... How comfortable do you feel with ropes?"

Hokusai had told you about something related to that, you remembered. She said it was to make poses more interesting.

"It's about that thing uh... Shibari, right? You want me to tie myself up? Like I can try with my feet or something but I don't know if that's interesting enough to draw"

"Don't worry, I already called someone to help."

You sighed, of course she had.

"Did you bothered Medb for that?"

"What? No, I called a professional. Someone who has experiences with tort.... Uh, I mean, with pushing the body to its limits? Yes, that sounds better."

You tried to ask what she meant by that. You didn't have to though because at that moment Hijikata opened the door to your room, red rope in hand.

"Okay, who's the one I'm going to tie up?"

"That's it, I'm leaving. Have fun searching for another model." Hokusai grabbed your arm with an inexplicable strength "Let me go!"

"No, you promised! Plus, I paid Mr. Hijikata in advance so I can't get it back!

"Oh, come on! What did it cost? Two barrels of pickles?!"

"Three." Corrected the man "And now get ready, we don't have all day."

"But-"

"NOW!"

Fuck, when something gets into his head there's no turning back and arguing would make things worse. You took of the clothes as fast as you could, then stayed still in place, too scared to move.

"How should I start?" The vice commander of the Shinsengumi looked at the artist.

"We could start with 3 poses, 20 minutes each, but let's not make it too difficult for the ones starting. After that we could take a break and maybe try some suspensions"

"Wait, wait... when you mean suspensions you mean without touching the ground?" You asked, panicking

"Don't worry, master, you're in good hands." Hokusai patted Hijikata's back just to instantly regret it, he looked too intimidating. "Well, let's get started!"

You weren't prepared, the berserker, noticed that.

"Relax, if you're tense it will be worse."

Easier said than done.

His hands worked fast, doing one knot after another, moving the rope around your body to properly restrict your movements. Hijikata tied your hands behind your back, you couldn't see him but judging by how silent he was you knew he was fully concentrated. From time to time you could feel his breathing against your skin, making you nervous.

It didn't take him much time, when he finished he turned you around so the ladies could see.

You couldn't properly see from your perspective but hearing their reactions it must've been good.

"Does it hurt?" asked the berserker

"Uh? Ah, no."

"Good, if it feels uncomfortable at any point tell."

You nodded in response. The servant started drawing you while Hijikata sat in front of you, waiting for the 20 minutes to pass.

At first you thought that getting tied up was embarrassing enough but being observed by Hijikata's severe stare was worst. Why couldn't he look away? With another servant you could try to converse yet such a peculiar berserker like him was difficult to deal with.

After a long wait, 20 minutes passed and he untied you to start over again.

This time he carefully tied the rope around your neck and you got nervous again. Obviously he wouldn't kill you because it was really loose but the fear was there.

He continued working with the red material being especially delicate as if he noticed your uneasiness.

Sometimes his fingertips brushed you lightly, tickling you, so you tried hard not to tremble. It was difficult to stay calm when he touched you, not only because his gestures were unlike him, but also because they felt pleasant.

You closed your eyes and took a long breath, trying to keep things professional and not thinking too much about it. When you opened your eyes again, his hands were close to your lower area and you were about to have a panic attack.

"I'll make a knot here, tell me if it feels uncomfortable." He finished before you could even try to stop him "Well?"

"... It's ok."

"Good, I'll keep working then."

You watch him finish his work, he really took his time to make a beautiful diamond shaped pattern. After waiting patiently, the servants started their new drawing while Hijikata sat at the same spot. This time you weren't facing him, but you could still feel his gaze upon you. Maybe it would be ok to give him conversation this time.

"So... Shibari, huh? I didn't know you were good at tying people up." Yes, definitely not a weird sentence

"I know my ways." A weird crunching noise could be heard while he spoke. Was he eating?

"Oh and how did you learn?"

"Do you really want to know that?"

"... No, I can guess the story won't be pleasant." After all we're talking about Hijikata.

You didn't really come up to something else to ask, so you just waited, hearing him munch on some pickles.

"Why are you so curious about it?" He asked

"Oh, well, I guess I just wanted to know more about you since you don't usually talk about yourself."

"You never asked." He had a point.

"Ok, then I'll do it. Why do you ask me every time if I'm comfortable?"

"Because that's common sense." The way he said that made you feel stupid. Somehow he noticed and tried to correct himself. "If the rope hurt you or irritated your skin it would be bad, right? Specially in sensitive place like your-"

"Yes, I get it, let's just leave it there." You didn't want to hear him talk about your body in case he said something crude. "Why did you accepted the job? Didn't you think it could be a bit... Awkward?"

"The pay was ok. Also the lady told me the model wouldn't be one of the male servants so I accepted."

"And what if it was?"

"Then I would probably ask for more pickles. Still I had a feeling it was going to be you, no one is dumb enough to do so."

"Thank you for the kind words... Wait, you are ok with me being the model? Wouldn't you prefer another person you have no connection with?"

"If with that you mean to ask me if I am embarrassed, no, I'm not. I don't feel ashamed of touching you, I'm just doing what I was asked to."

He stood up, you were so absorbed in the conversation you didn't notice the 20 minutes had passed.

Hijikata's piercing eyes stared at you, just as he did before. You thought that he was thinking what to do next, but there was something off about it. You tried to look away when you noticed he had the smuggest smile you've ever seen on him.

"Let's keep going then."

Now you really wanted him to finish soon.

[mochifics]

❝  something special  ❞  |  one.

•  pairing:  im jaebeom x reader. •  genre:  romance, really slow burn, fluff. •  word count:  2.5k. •  summary:  it’s 2018, and got7′s hard carry 2 has begun filming. the company assigned you to tend to the two eldest members in the group all throughout the season, and you didn’t realize that being around them would be so... difficult.

author’s note:  another chapter?? with a new look?? u bet!! this chapter kinda coincides with the first episode of hard carry 2, in case you feel like watching that first (or after) reading the chapter. (-: i have so much muse for this, so i plan on updating it pretty often so sorry if it’s a lil short. <3

It was raining.

Your eyes continued to admire the gloomy clouds scattered across the morning sky as the crimson cable car worked its way up a steep incline. The cameras were currently rolling as the members were on their way to their first photo mission stop in one of Hong Kong’s famous landmarks.

Heavy eyelids slowly fluttering shut, they abruptly open again upon hearing Yugyeom and BamBam belt out to what seemed like their own rendition of a song about roller coasters. The rest of the members were amazed by how high the cable car was going too, which caused you to laugh quietly to yourself in your seat. 

Things were going okay so far. Aside from the sudden rain, everything was still right on schedule, and the members seemed to be having a good time despite the weather.

Letting the plastic hood of your rain poncho hover over your eyes, you allowed yourself to relax again. But before you know it, you felt a soft nudge on your knee, causing your eyes to open once more and shift to the source. It was Jaebeom, who you almost forgot was sitting by himself on the long seat right across from yours. 

“Are you having fun?” he asked you warmly, which was more than enough to catch you off guard. What happened at the hotel was still engraved in your mind, and even the slightest remembrance of the mishap made your skin crawl in embarrassment. 

Nodding your head, you reciprocated his smile, even if you were feeling something completely different. “I am. Are you?”

“You sure? You’ve been looking like you’d rather be somewhere else,” he quipped in return. 

Hearing that had you rolling your eyes playfully, your hand hovered over your mouth to refrain from loud laughter. “Mr. Im, were you watching me?” But before he could say anything, the cable car came to a full stop. With the cameras off, the production crew announced for the members to step out, so Jaebeom only glanced at you and shrugged his shoulders as a response, a sly grin eminent across his lips. 

And with that, he was out of your sight.

After a small trek through escalators in glass enclosures, you finally arrived at the top of Victoria’s Peak. The weather’s finally decided to clear up at this time—skies were still riddled with gray clouds, but at least the heavy downpour’s stopped. You take a deep breath to admire the fresh air, allowing for the cool breeze to trickle your skin. 

“No, we can’t take the photo here—we have to do it down there,” you heard Jackson tell the members gathered up in a small area from afar. You quickened your pace to catch up to the platform that everyone was settled in, fixing the straps of the emergency backpack you were assigned to carry around.

Though before you could even stand still for one second, they were on the move again. “Isn’t it right here?” you heard Mark call out as his figure made its way down another pair of steps before the others followed suit. The camera crew quickly shuffled to catch up to where the members were standing. 

They didn’t exactly need you while they were taking photos, so you decided to wander off on your own for the time being. There was a fairly empty section not too far away, so you walked over to the area and stay there for a bit. Your palms rest on the cool metallic raining as you take the time to admire the view of the city before you. It was gorgeous. Even with the air littered with a light fog, you were able to bask in the scenery’s beauty. You then reached into your bag to grab your Polaroid camera to take a souvenir photo of the view.

Aligning the camera perfectly to your eye, you pressed the button. The camera’s light flashed and the photo printed soon after, and you take it between your fingers and shake it. 

“Need some help, intern?”

The words startled you for a moment, but you were able to regain your composure quickly. Turning around, your gaze met with Mark’s, who was standing right behind you, hands coolly tucked into the pockets of his coffee-colored slacks. Immediately you respond with a “no, I’m okay, thank you!” while waving your empty hand to emphasize your words. “Aren’t you supposed to be with everyone else?”

“We finished the mission, so everyone’s just taking pictures of each other,” he reassured with a half-grin. “But seriously, let me take a picture of you. Here,” both of his hands reached out to you, insinuating that he didn’t mind providing the extra help. 

It was one of those weird situations where both outcomes could be very good, or very bad. You didn’t want to be a bother by having Mark go out of his way to do something, but at the same time, you were afraid to hurt his feelings by constantly declining. So, you bit the bullet and handed him the camera.

With a satisfied smile against his lips, he began to take a few steps back to find the perfect distance for the view. Bringing the camera up to his face, he gave you a thumbs up, signaling that he was ready to snap the photo whenever you were. 

You didn’t want to showcase the flustered feeling taking over your entire body, so, you decided to try to act as relaxed as possible. You quickly remove the hood that was covering your head and quickly fix your hair before posing with a smile. Mark took it as a cue to slowly countdown, snapping the photo afterwards.

“I think you blinked,” Mark frowned as he took the newly printed photo, before giving it a shake. “Let’s take another one just in case.”

You wanted to protest, so badly, but didn’t have the heart to speak up and potentially cause unnecessary conflict. Then get fired for it. So, you murmured a quiet “okay” before leaning back against the glass barrier and posing again.

The camera flashed one more time, and Mark removed the second printed photo before shaking it. “Do they look okay?” you asked as you approached him. “Ha. I was right, you did blink in the first one,” he let out a laugh and showed you the final product.

You immediately groan at how bad you looked upon snatching both photos from his grip. The second one however, surprisingly was nice. It caught the view of the city perfectly, and you looked happy to be there. “Oh god, I’m just going to throw this one away—”

“Wait!” he interjected before you could even take one step forward, hovering over you from behind to quickly steal the photo again. “…I’ll keep it. It’s a waste.”

Failing to take it back, he was already being called by the other members to join them. The cameras were about to roll again as they prepare for their next stop, so Mark only looked back at you with a smile and waved goodbye, then running over to join the rest of his friends. 

And you couldn’t help but wonder over and over, why?

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - 

The trip to the next few mission stops were a blur. 

Shooting turned chaotic when the group reached the heart of the city for the second, third, and fourth stop. From the midlevel outdoor escalator to the infamous clock tower in In Harbor City, the crew wanted to film everything quickly to avoid drawing in a big crowd.

In some instances, it was too late. You spent most of the time out becoming this literal human shield—arms spread across as wide as you could while you kept up with the pace of both the crew and the members walking through the city. 

You didn’t think you were going to have to play security for a bit and act as a blockage that allowed space for the members to safely film without being bombarded by the fans. At times you even had to give a friendly push for the ones who eagerly insisted to get closer pictures of the group, and despite earning malicious glares from them, you did what you had to do. 

“Welcome to Disneyland!” Jackson’s cheery greeting was enough for you to snap out of your train of thought. Everyone finally arrived at the last mission spot for the day, which also happened to be your favorite. You’ve always loved visiting Disney parks. Despite you being there for work, you were still grateful for the opportunity.

“Where’s Iron Man?” BamBam added, glancing around his surroundings. You recalled that one of their tasks involved taking a photo with the famous Avenger, so everyone made their way to the area that held the Stark Expo. It was the area that held the Iron Man ride, as well as the meet and greet with Tony Stark himself. Apparently, the goal for the photo op was to have everyone pose like Iron Man, while BamBam posed like Black Panther.

After taking some time to navigate around the amusement park and Jackson asking many employees nearby for directions to their needed stop, everyone finally reached Stark Expo. An employee was there in the front to help accommodate GOT7 inside, giving them the perk to cut in line and instantly hop onto the ride.

“Do you want to come ride with us, intern? There’s room in there for you,” Jinyoung asked you as they waited for the camera crew to set up, arms folded across his chest. He always looked so chic, even in the most normal setting. 

“Yeah, join us!” Youngjae chimed in before you could even answer. He slung an arm over Jinyoung’s shoulders and looked at you expectantly. “You’ve spent the entire day running around with us, we want you to have some fun too.”

“Ah... If I wasn’t working, I’d definitely tag along. But you can tell me all about it later,” you said nicely, as an attempt to lighten the mood. You were instructed by the crew to stay outside and wait with everyone else, but was touched by the invitation anyway. 

Both Jinyoung and Youngjae frowned at the response. But as they were about to say something, they were being pulled inside the building. 

“We’ll say hi to Iron Man for you!” you heard Yugyeom call out last minute with his head poking out before going in, and it made you smile.

And just like that, the afternoon flew by. 

After spending the rest of the afternoon completing photo missions in the theme park (meeting Iron Man along with Mickey and Minnie Mouse), filming the first episode of Hard Carry was drawing to an end. To end the episode nicely, Jaebeom suggested for everyone to ride the most intense roller coaster in the park.

In the end, most of the members decided to go on.

“Man... just watching it makes me dizzy already,” Youngjae commented with a laugh. You, along with Youngjae and Jinyoung were resting right by the roller coaster the other members were riding, which gave the perfect view to see them when they pass by. 

“I bet we’ll be able to hear Jackson’s scream the most,” Jinyoung snickered before taking a small sip of the water bottle you bought for him prior. He then proceeded to rest his elbows on the wooden fencing in front.

“Mr. Wang doesn’t like roller coasters?” You wondered aloud, though not expecting a response from either of them. Your eyes were busy being fixated on the view of the ride in its entirety in before you, watching the carts zoom through the rails—its speed enough to have air waft through your hair each time they pass by your area.

“You know what, I’m actually not so sure where he stands with rides,” Jinyoung answered back, which earned a laugh from both you and Youngjae. “He doesn’t mind going on them, but when it starts, he literally loses it. So, I don’t know… Maybe.”

As Youngjae opened his mouth to add another comment, all your heads turned upon hearing the screams of very familiar voices. At a distance, you could make out the rest of the members on the ride. Yugyeom holding for his life, Jaebeom and BamBam flailing their arms out, Jackson holding onto Jaebeom for his dear life, and Mark casually laughing in the back. Both Jinyoung and Youngjae were laughing hysterically at this point, and it was incredibly contagious. It was hard not to join them in on the laughter.

A few minutes have passed since the sighting of the members, and the rest of the group along with the crew were finally reunited where you and the others were previously waiting. 

“Can we please go on another ride?” You heard Yugyeom endlessly plead to their management, even when filming has already wrapped up for the evening. “Just one more! Just one more and we’ll be done, we swear!”

“Yeah, I want to go on the scariest one in the park,” Jaebeom added in hopes to help the younger’s case, his frame leaning against the railing with his hands in his pockets. 

One thing’s for sure, you could already tell it was hard to resist to their charm. Judging by the look of their manager’s face, he was already close to giving into what they wanted. Besides, they deserved the break. They’ve just finished their world tour, and needed to enjoy their time in Hong Kong before flying back to Korea tomorrow night.

You watched the group go back and forth between their manager afar for a good five minutes, awkwardly standing as you waited for someone to give you further instructions on where to be for the evening. Soon enough management agreed to their cries, and gave them two extra hours to do whatever they wanted in the park before meeting back on the bus. They all celebrated their victory with loud cheers all around.

“Intern!” you lost your train of thought as you heard someone from their management call for you. Quickly, you look up and gave them your undivided attention as they explained where you’d be going for the rest of the evening. “The members are splitting up because they all wanted to go someplace different... can you look after Mr. Im and Mr. Tuan? Just make sure that they don’t get lost and arrive at the bus safely on time. Bring them to a nearby gift shop and have them change into different clothes and wear a mask, okay? See you all in two hours.”

Even though filming has wrapped and you were technically done for the evening, declining their management would definitely make you look bad. 

So, while you preferred heading back to the bus and taking that nap you desperately needed, you agreed.

[kathyprior4200]

Helluva Boss Episode Remakes!

 Not too far away from Pentagram City lay a shady place in the bowels of Hell. “Welcome to Imp City: est. 1981” was posted on a worn wooden sign with a white painted eye toward the top. Under a crimson sky, a wide array of buildings made up the city, some with spikes on the roofs. Downtrodden imps of various colors and sizes mulled around the streets and ghettos. Mugging, sex, drugs, poverty, and murder were common aspects of their everyday afterlives. Indeed, being considered “lesser demons” and the “lowest of the low,” not very many had opportunities granted to them.

 Well, save for a unique family of imps, trying to get their business running.

 Just who were these imps?

 A nearby screen showed old fashioned numbers ticking down, 3, 2, and 1. Blitzo, a red and white faced imp, appeared on stage in front of purple open curtains. “Hi there! I’m Blitzo! The “O” is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.!” He put out his hand and the logo appeared above it. The “M” in I.M.P. looked like imp horns, black and white in color. Down below were the words “Immediate Murder Professionals.”

 Blitzo spoke again. “Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?”

 A picture of Blitzo with a mustache and two black top hats over his horns was grinning evilly as a building burned in the background. The sign nearby read “Orphanage for elderly, blind, and newborn dogs.”

 “Or are you an innocent soul who just happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next image showed Blitzo in a white angel costume, happily throwing away a Styrofoam coffee cup in a wastepaper basket instead of a recycling bin in an office.

 In the next shot, Blitzo held up a sign which read “Some guy who hired us!” A buff horned red demon wearing a white Ohio shirt stood not too far from the camera, a 666 News billboard in the background. He punched one fist into his hand.

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the state of Ohio killed me. I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body.”

 Blitzo appeared again, this time with his fellow imps Millie and Moxxie in the background. A white-clothed altar with a mirror and skulls on it was in the very back. White candles were spread around the room. The two imps were sitting at a pentagram drawn on the floor. Blitzo held a blue Satanic ritual book in his hand.

 “Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…”

 He waved his hand and a flaming portal appeared in the center of the room, causing Moxxie and Millie to scatter.

 “…we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!” He happily fell through the portal on his back like it was a mosh pit.

 Then the musical jingle started:

 “When you want somebody gone

And you don’t wanna wait too long

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals”

  “Hand grenade or cyanide

We’ll make it look like suicide

The Immediate Murder Professionals”

 “We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell…”

 “We’ll kill your husband or you wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife,

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals.

 Kids die for freeee!”

  A white person appeared with a thought bubble of his enemy with a red x. A demon fell to the floor and the person looked up. The I.M.P. logo appeared, silhouettes of Millie with a spear, Moxxie with a gun and Blitzo in the middle, spreading out his arms to make an “M.”

 Fast paced shots flashed through the ad.

 Moxxie throwing a grenade out a window as his companions grinned.

 Blitzo hanging a person in an office building while Moxxie watched. Millie held a suicide note in her hand.

 Then more killing scenes flashed: Blitzo electrocuting a person, Millie using a mace, Moxxie choking his victim.

 Blitzo led the way through a portal to Earth, Millie and Moxxie following. Moxxie tripped on a book and landed on his face while the others posed. They then stood up shocked…at the people in a church staring at them in confusion.

 Millie killed a naked couple with a chainsaw while Blitzo looked greedily at a woman’s underwear.

 Blitzo repeatedly stabbed someone else tied up near a “Blitzo show” sign at a circus.

 The three imps used more methods to kill Earthlings: Medieval torture racks, shark attacks, fire and gasoline on someone, pillow suffocation, crushing someone to death with a grand piano, the electric chair for a prisoner…

 “Kids die for freeeee!” ended the ad.

 Moxxie and Millie sang a murder love song in their living room before the meeting. Moxxie played on his purple demon-face guitar as Millie watched him with love in her eyes. It reminded them of the good times when they would shot at demons together in the streets, drag a bloody sack behind them and when Millie got a grenade as a present and used it to blow up a building.

  “Oh what a thrill when the crimson starts to spill

And my Millie goes in for the kill

She takes away my breath

She’s the angel of death for me

Oh Millie

She a queen, it’s like a dream

When I hear her victims start to scream

Get him out of the sack

She’s a maniac for me

Oh Millie

When the blood starts dripping down the sides

And the bodies start to fall from the skies

My heart skips a beat

When my Millie’s guns a blazing in the night

That’s in love

She makes the murdering fun for me”

 Both of them hummed before Moxxie finished,

  “Of all the imps in Hell…

Millie joined in, “It’s for him that I fell…

“Oh Millie.” They leaned in for a kiss.

  They paused. Moxxie yelled, while looking out the window. His boss, Blitzo was pressed against the window with a video camera. “Are you fucking filming us right now?!”

 Moxxie sighed, as a smiling Blitzo held up a sign which read “Meeting in 20 min: nice job banging yo’ wife!”

  Just before the meeting, the head imp, Blitzo walked into the receptionist room.

 “Blitz!” called Loona, the hellhound, holding a bone shaped phone in her hand. “That clingy rich asshole’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you!” Then she added in a lower voice, “Sounds a little DTFy.” (Down to Fuck)

 Blitzo spilled water on himself as he talked with Moxxie by the water cooler. “Oh god that was one time! We wouldn’t have access to the living world…if I hadn’t slept with that privileged asshole!”

 “You what?” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “Blitz!” Loona barked in outrage.

 “I heard you already!” Blitzo yelled. He stomped into his office and picked up his red cell phone. He played with little bobble heads of his imp coworkers, Moxxie and Millie. Signs were tacked to the wall, reading: “The Incredible Blitzo! One night only! Tickets now at the Big Top!”

 “So…” Blitzo beamed nervously, “What can I do you for this time, Stolas?”

 The owl overlord replied, lounging on his couch in a royal red robe and a crown.

 “Remember that time when I told you that a political candidate was causing problems up on Earth for a few of my associates? That he tried to convince people that global warming existed?”

 “Yes?” Blitzo answered.

 “And that it does, but more people die when nothing’s done about it? Oh, how lonely I felt.”

 “Okay well, yeah that makes sense,” Blitzo said.

 “But now…” he hooted in laughter. “There are tons of new sinners coming down here every day! I just had a feast and a murder party several nights ago. I wondered why a horde of people arrived and it’s because of a disease called the coronavirus! My, it’s the best thing to ever happen since my wedding with my queen Melody and my darling daughter Octavia’s graduation from flight school. Oh, how marvelous!”

 “Well…I’m very happy for you, sir,” Blitzo said. “I hope that…corn-ah virus does its thing.”

 Stolas sighed. “My wife wasn’t happy with me, though. She said you fell onto a cake in the middle of a lunch with her and the royal officials. What did you say to her?”

 “I said…’sorry I fucked your husband.’” He gulped.

 A tense silence.

 Blitzo examined his chest and arms. “I still have the talon scars and peck marks to prove it.”

 “And she also said that you stole one of my books, is that true?”

 “No! No way!” Blitzo lied, with a nervous laugh. “That was another imp long ago. Can I tell you how great it felt…sleeping with you?”

 “Indeed,” Stolas agreed with a contented sigh. “Your sharp horns and claws ruffling through my feathers, and my talons and beak exploring your multicolored flesh. You know what happens when I’m lonely, Blitzy?”

 “Oh, god fucking dammit…” Blitzo muttered to himself.

 Stolas’ eyes grew red. “When I’m lonely, I become hungry. And when I’m become hungry…I want to choke on that red dick of yours!  **** your ***** then lick all of your *****, before taking out your **** and **** with more teeth until you’re screaming ******** like a fucking baby!”

 Blitzo hung up the phone, the words on Stolas’ picture reading “creepy mouth: aka one night stand bird dick.” and smashed it with a rotary phone. He threw the pieces into a blender and mixed it up.

 “Eat this!” he told Loona who walked in and drank the red liquid.

 “And then you know that bridge over the freeway?” he asked.

 “Yeah?”

 “Shit off it! It’s time for the meeting, let’s go.”

  The imps currently resided in a tall office building that seemed to stand out among the other structures. Along with spikes jutting from the roof and sides, there were a pair of giant black and white imp horns attached to the sides of the building for decoration. The lights inside near the top floor were on.

 Posted on a door were the words “I.M.P. Headquarters” with “IMP Meeting in Progress” written on a piece of paper taped to the door, a smiley face off to the side.

 On a white board was a bar graph and a line graph, the line graph pointing lower at a drawing of a raging horned demon. “Fix this shit!” was written in big bold letters that took up much of the board. “Blitzo is the best, by Blitzo” was scribbled off to the side. Several tall chairs with spikes jutting from the top boarders were set near a brown table in the center of the room. A white pentagram was drawn in the center of the table.

 Up front, a black, white, and red colored imp paced back and forth, sprouting long curved striped horns: Blitzo. He wore black fingerless gloves with what looked like a yellow eye design on each glove. He was dressed in a slender navy blue business suit with light red buttons. A small round pink pin with black eyes and a stitched mouth was attached onto a red undershirt below his slender chin. What looked like a black two-clawed print mark lay over his red forehead. Along with sharp teeth, the imp has red iris eyes with yellow sclera. Like a typical devil, he also had a red pointed tail. He had four red finger-shaped claws on each hand.

 Blitzo began to speak, pacing back and forth. He looked toward his audience of two imps and a hellhound sitting on chairs around a table.

 “Alright, now I know business has been…a bit slow, lately, yes.”

 He mentioned to the board at the downward sloping line. “In fact, there seems to be less people seeking out our services; 1,056 in comparison to the 1,066 from last month. We’ve basically spiraled from the True Blue Market to that of the Raging Bull.” He pointed at the roaring demon head drawing on the board.

 “Shouldn’t it be the Bull Market is good and the Bear Market is bad?” said a voice.

 “Loona, nobody cares,” Blitzo said. He continued.

 “Any decrease could spell disaster for us, not to mention how lots of people use our services and yet look down on us.”

  Blitzo cleared his throat and spread out his hands. “It’s no one’s fault, okay? I’m not naming any names here…Moxxie.”

 Moxxie raised his eyebrows in a “what the hell?” gesture as Blitzo looked at him. The serious imp had a red face, yellow eyes, white hair framing his face and stripped horns jutting off to the sides in slight curves. He wore a large red bow-tie and a navy blue suit. White freckles were present under his eyes.

 Blitzo continued, “Now does anyone have any bright ideas on how we can get business drumming up again?”

 Millie, the bubbly imp raised her hand. She had a red face, messy black hair with a white flower patch near the top, and short black horns with faint white stripes. Her eyes were also yellow and she wore a black top, black torn pants, high heeled shoes and a little black choker around her neck. Her eyelashes extended past her face.

 Millie waved her hand and beamed, eyes shining. “What…about…a car wash?!”

 “This is Hell, Millie. No one cares about cars being clean here, okay?”

 Just then, there came a coughing from the other room. A small cyclops demon with hot pink hair with a patch of yellow opened the door and walked in. She brushed off soot from her hot pink skirt and waved at the group, who stared in surprise.

 “Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of I.M.P.?”

 “Uh yes?” Blitzo replied, unsure of what to make of this random maid.

 “Oh great, because one of my friends sent me here to investigate, he’s a busy chap, you know, and oh so dreamy!”

 She darted around the room and began removing cobwebs from the windows. “It looks like there are two men, a woman and a dog here, a nice balance.”

 Loona, the grey hellhound glared at Niffty, narrowing her red eyes. “What was that, you little shit?”

 Loona had a red cell phone in her clawed paws, the back of the phone displaying a black upside down cross. She wore a grey top with black strings in the shape of an inverted pentagram. A spiked collar was around her neck. Her pants were dark and torn, with a white crescent moon on them. Her feet were bare and her hair and tail were thick with white and dark fur.

 Niffty stopped in her tracks. “Now, did you guys need any cars to be washed?”

 Blitzo shook his head. “We don’t have any cars here, we’re broke as fuck.”

 Millie stared at Niffty and cupped her own cheeks with her hands. “Oh my Satan! She’s so adorable! Can we keep her?!”

 “No!” Moxxie and Loona said at the same time. The two workers then glared at each other.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Do you mind?!” He pointed to the door.

 Niffty laughed nervously, “Oh okay, sorry about that, hehhehheh. I’ll be outside if you need me!”

 She scurried out of the room.

 Blitzo paused for a moment, then said, “Oh right! Ideas for our company!” He waved his hands, his eyes shining. “Ooh, what about a billboard?”

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We can’t afford a billboard, sir.”

 Blitzo rushed over and held Moxxie in a headlock. His voice was rushed and sarcastic, “Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you’re in the room right now.” He shoved Moxxie away.

 Blitzo stared in frustration. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

 He picked up a remote and turned on an old fashioned TV.

 After static appeared on screen, the footage showed the group killing off individuals.

 Blitzo bashing a red demon’s head with a mullet.

Moxxie shooting a blue person tied up to a chair.

Loona grabbing a red person in her mouth and shaking the person side to side like a wolf.

Millie beheading a blue person with a spear and laughing.

 Blitzo watched with a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a blue bowl of popcorn. Loona sat on the table, popping popcorn pieces into her mouth. Millie was perched on the table, enjoying the show, but Moxxie stood off to the side with a grumpy face.

 Posters hung from the walls, one showing Blitzo and his two sisters, Tilla (an imp with long black hair) and Barbie Wire (a smiling imp with ram-like horns.) It was a picture of them at a circus, the banner reading “The Amazing Imp Siblings!” Blitzo remembered the good times he had with them when they performed on stage. Barbie Wire would balance on a tightrope, holding a pole with flames on either end. Tilla tamed and evaded manticores, dragons and other beasts that were released into the arena. Blitzo would sing songs about murdering people and they would all pose and bow at the end as the crowd cheered.

 That was before Blitzo moved on to form I.M.P. recruited Moxxie and Millie, and adopted Loona.

 Blitzo moved his hand toward his chest and sighed with content. “Ahh, those were the good times.”

 Moxxie spoke up as Millie ate a piece of popcorn. “I don’t need any reminding, sir, considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week. One that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel, nobody watches.”

 Blitzo turned his head, insulted. “Uh, hey, excuse me.” He stood up. “What’s “obnoxious” about a super-fun jingle, all right? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spittin’ bullshit!”

 He walked across the room.

 “People love musicals, sir,” Millie added.

 Blitzo smiled. “Exactly, Millie, and we’re basically doin’ a musical.” Blitzo did jazz hands before pointing rapidly at Moxxie with a scowl.

 “Are you gonna crush my musical theatre dreams like my dad did?” He lowered his head.

 “Sir…” Moxxie began, but his boss cut him off.

 “Because right now, all I see is just my dad’s asshole talking to me! Crushing my dreams of being who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

 Millie leaned in toward her husband and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Moxxie?”

 “I…what?” he asked, looking at her. Millie leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, tail curling. “I thought I knew you.” Moxxie rolled his eyes; his wife loved to annoy him.

 Blitzo turned back to Moxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Moxxie. After I made you employee of the month!” He held a picture of Moxxie with his mouth open in a roar, snake tongue showing.

 Moxxie threw up his hands, “Okay, sir! I’m sorry, a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theatre. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

 “I liked it!” Millie pipped up.

 Moxxie turned to her, finger shaking, “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 Loona sat, bored, playing on her phone. Moxxie’s head appeared on the screen but was crushed by a weight and then blown up by a bomb. At one point his face was sliced in half as “boom!” flashed across the screen.

 “Remember when we shot that kid on Earth?” Blitzo asked.

 Moxxie got a flashback. “Oh, right. I shot that boy who was walking around licking strawberry ice cream. It was an accident. He was taken on a stretcher to the hospital.”

 The pink haired nurse had said, “Doctor, he’s not responding!”

 “Cool water, stat!” The blue-haired man had said next. He slammed water down on the boy and said, “It didn’t do anything!”

 The doctor had said, “Damn it! I’m not losing another one! “Clear!” Then they had shocked him and the boy somehow woke up with a gasp. The doctor said “Holy shit, it actually worked.”

 Millie then explained that the three of them sat in the waiting room. Blitzo read a magazine while Millie comforted Moxxie. The doctor had said to the imps, “He appears to be in stable condition, but he’ll need surgery. Now what insurance provider do you freaks have?”

 Then Blitzo asked, “The fuck is insurance?”

 Moxxie sighed, “…and then they kicked us and the boy out and we fell back into Hell.”

  A moment later, Moxxie spoke, hands forward in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Loona’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It’s very simple.”

 “Oh, sit on a dick, Moxxie,” Loona replied without looking up.

 Moxxie stuttered angrily, looking for a comeback. “You sit! Sit on…a… and the d...do your job!” He slammed his palm on the table.

 Blitzo scolded him. “Hey, now we don’t blame our screw-ups on Loona, okay? She didn’t do anything wrong!” He hugged her and nuzzled his head against her cheek, the hellhound growling at him to get off.

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful.”

 Lonna looked at her phone. “The other day, right? I answered the puppy barking phone and said ‘Hello, I.M.P.’ Millie was yelling, ‘Loona, I got stabbed! Call Mox…’ and then I hung up. Wasn’t my problem. My Hellhound Monthly magazine was much more interesting.”

 “Don’t forget about my adoption anniversary gift I gave you,” Blitzo said, scratching his neck.

 Lonna seethed. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t a cure for syphilis, I didn’t want it, and it so happened to be black spiders, crawling all over me!”

 “Again, I’m sorry it was spiders,” Blitzo said.

 “God damn it, apology not accepted.”

 “You should be thankful that I rescued you after your hellhound family kicked you out,” Blitzo remarked.

 Loona’s ears twitched. Millie stared nervously. “I was perfectly capable of fending for myself,” barked Loona, looking up from her phone for the first time. “There was nothing special about them, other than all the alcohol, meth and drugs they took. My parents never cared about us. I mean, they sent off my other siblings to work for other overlords and were never seen again. Perhaps I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with them.”

 Blitzo had tears in his eyes. He hugged her again. “Well, at least you’ve got me, Moxxie, and Millie as your new family!”

 Loona hid a smile and just bared her fangs. “Get off of me before I bite your face off!”

 Blitzo stepped back.

 Loona then smiled and looked at Moxxie, a look of mischief in her red eyes.

 Moxxie scowled. “Excuse me, did you just fax me an ad for weight loss the other day?”

 “No,” Loona answered. “I was busy watching the princess sing.”

 “Wha-Why…Why would anyone send me that?!” Moxxie argued.

 “Come on, you know why.” She smirked.

 “I’m not chubby, thank you very much! Not to mention, you were the one who ate my avocado salad lunch! How rude.”

 “I took it because I had the worst hangover.”

 “But why would you drink on a work night?” Millie asked.

 “I was hungover from that morning, dumbasses!” Loona said to Moxxie and Millie. “I couldn’t take your assaults. So I decided to blow some fucking steam! I kicked a baby in a carriage and caused some destruction. Felt good afterwards.”

 Blitzo mentioned to Loona. “Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family and you don’t get rid of family.”

 “We aren’t a family, sir!” Moxxie pointed out. “You are the boss! We are the employees! You treat her like she’s some troubled teenager! She’s more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phone!”

 Loona flipped him the bird.

 “That is offensive!” said Blitzo, walking to the window, pulling open the blinds. “Without homeless people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life!”

  Outside, a homeless imp with a broken horn and ragged grey clothing held up a sign that read “Monee helps. Satan Bless.” An imp woman with black clothing and little bat wings blushed at Blitzo who waved and did a playful raise of eyebrows before closing the blinds.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?”

 “Come on, sweetie, it’s not that big a deal!” Millie said.

 Moxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me, what?! I asked you, ‘Honey, can you get the butter?’ You said, ‘sure sweetie’.”

 “Spoiler alert, the butter’s spoiled!” Blitzo added. Millie giggled.

  “He was in our fucking fridge! He was spying on me while I was asleep. And worse, he fucking filmed me and you while we were singing and about to kiss!”

 Blitzo giggled. “I still have it on camera.”

 “It’s fine, honey,” Millie replied to Moxxie, patting his shoulder. “The “spoiler alert, butter’s spoiled!” was a funny use of wordplay Blitzo used.”

 “Why was he in our fridge anyway?” Moxxie countered. “And then I was dreaming that my parents were being murdered and Blitzo interrupted it. I wanted to get back to that.”

 “I was just curious,” Blitzo responded.

 “Just. Stop. Doing. That,” Moxxie growled.

 “I don’t see what the issue is!” said Blitzo. “Is there something you don’t want me seeing?” A mischievous silly look crossed his face.

 “No!” Moxxie spat, eye twitching.

 “You a baby weiner havor?” Blitzo asked, another term for a small dick.

 Loona giggled under her breath.

Moxxie was fed up. “Sir, what you say and how you act is totally inappropriate!”

 Millie pulled him down gently. “Calm down, Mox, you’re gonna have another panic attack!”

 “I am calm!” he yelled.

 Millie rubbed his head and soothed him. “Shh, there, there.” Moxxie whimpered.

 Blitzo spoke again with a childish grin, making a hole with two fingers and tapping the opening with one finger. “Look, I don’t judge the boring couple stuff you do outside of work hours, so don’t judge me.”

 Veins popped out of Moxxie’s yellow eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.” He crossed his arms as Millie gasped in horror.

 “Mox, he’s our boss!”

 “No, no, no, it’s fine, Mills,” said Blitzo with a wave of his hand. “Your husband is just…how do I say this without being offensive…retarded.”

 “Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single, life?”

 Blitzo leaned in toward Moxxie. “It actually does.”

 Loona appeared to agree, because she added to Moxxie, “The only reason you have a wife is because you’re easy to manage!”

 Moxxie gasped. She had called Moxxie submissive.

 “No he’s not, you bitch!” Millie yelled, holding up two middle fingers.

 “Do not talk to my assistant that way!” Blitzo demanded. “She’s sensitive!”

 “Yes I am!” Loona barked.

 Then a squeaky voice sounded from nearby: “You guys are all fucking assholes.”

 Everyone turned and stared at a boy wearing an orange shirt with a planet on it. He had brown hair, a blue baseball cap on and was connected to a monitor.

 Blitzo pointed at him. “Oh shut up, kid, you’re lucky to witness this.”

 Moxxie pinched his nose and sighed in frustration. “Ugh, this company is such a mess!”

 “Did someone call me?” Niffty’s voice rang from the hallway. She opened the door a crack. “I can clean up any messes you may have!”

 “No!” Moxxie called. “Go away!”

 Niffty slowly closed the door.

 An awkward silence…

 “Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Blitzo said out of nowhere.

 “Nobody was talking about that,” Loona mentioned.

 “Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling. So how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The kid pointed his finger at Blitzo. He ripped off the wires from his stomach.

 “It’s been a literal hell pretending to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn’t kill me, but now? I want that. I want death. You!” he pointed to Blitzo. “You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I’m a kid! We’re supposed to like clowns…even the creepy ones!”

 Moxxie scoffed. “Hey now, that’s not very…”

 The kid cut him off. “If I wanted to hear from a spineless jackass, I’d rip out your spine and ask you some shit.”

 Moxxie shivered in fear.

 “That’s my husband you’re talking to!” Millie yelled.

 The kid snickered. “That’s your husband?! I figured you for a slut, but I didn’t know you needed dick that bad!”  

 Millie fumed at her husband being called ugly and weak. To think that she would have sex with anyone else at random…

 “And you!” The kid pointed at Loona.

 “What? What about me?” Loona asked.

 The kid crossed his arms. “Nothing. I don’t talk to dogs. I’m a cat person.”

 Loona whined.

 “Wow,” said Blitzo. “You know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit.”

 “Yeah, after all, he’s kind of a piece of shit,” Moxxie muttered.

 A ding came from Loona’s phone. She smiled. “Oh fuck! Guys, I just got a text from our client. Guess he was the right target after all.”

 “Who?” Blitzo asked.

 “Him.”

 “Me?” asked the kid.

 “Yep,” she confirmed.

 “They wanted us to kill an actual child?” Blitzo asked.

 “That’s what they’re sayin’,” Loona said.

 Blitzo grinned and twirled a gun in his hand. His job just got more fun and easier. “Well Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god!” He fired and shot the boy in the chest. He flopped down dead in a pool of blood, smoke and sparks lingering in the air.

 Blitzo spoke about I.M.P.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can! Like killing people! So, from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money… is gone and you���re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review, but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Hell and no one fucking cares.”

 Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie kicked the dead kid on the floor, enjoying themselves. Loona snapped a picture with her phone and recorded the scene. After the imps left with the body, Niffty came in and gasped.

 “Well, time to clean this up. What a mess!” She hummed a happy tune as she mopped up the blood at rapid speed.

 Blitzo and Moxxie wore gas masks and green suits as Blitzo sawed off the boy’s arm and Moxxie sawed his chest, organs spilling out into a sack below. Millie tossed an arm into the sack and Loona helped hold open the sack. Moxxie dropped the boy’s severed head inside and shared a loving smile with his wife.

 Etched in red graffiti on a dumpster behind them were the words “Devil,” “Hell,” “Happy Hotel,” and “I’m always chasing rainbows.” A pentagram, and wide smiles were also doodled on the surface.

 Blitzo embraced the entire group in a forceful hug, knocking the phone from Loona’s hands.

 “You know, even though this kid was a target, he’s still a child. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” He wrapped his long tail around the group, all of them smiling genuinely. For despite all their problems, they were still a company family.

 Back in the human world, a crying blonde mother wearing a pink shirt and a necklace held up a paper saying “missing boy.” Below in large letters read on the news: “Mom sucks at drawing own kid!” Words say “There is a missing boy!’ and “Yet another missing kid!”

 The mother spoke into the microphone, “Please! If anyone has seen my little Eddie, please contact us at…”

 She gasped as a sack dropped into her hands. She and the news reporter looked up to see a smiling Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie through a portal up above.

 “You’re welcome!” Blitzo called with a wave before the portal closed.

 The mother looked inside the bag and screamed. “My son! He’s dead! Noooo!”

Part One: Mrs. Mayberry

Once upon a time, there was an innocent lovely blonde teacher named Mrs. Mayberry who taught at a typical schoolhouse. She was born many years ago on July 24th.

 She taught at a red schoolhouse with a little golden bell at the top of it. “Learning is fun,” was written in bright yellow letters on the side of the building with art of colorful kites and a rainbow on it. A sign at the front read “Puppies Junior School” in sunlight. There were tall green trees and a playground off to the side. The golden bell rang for the start of the day. A blue jay and a cardinal sang from a tree branch as the teacher opened the white curtains.

 The Vivziepop lookalike woman wrote “Good morning!” in white chalk on the green blackboard.

  “Good morning!” She twirled in a dance, catching her piece of chalk. She wore a white shirt with colorful red cherries and a long blue-gray skirt. A green pendant rested on her shirt. She wore cherry earrings and round yellow glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a flower-like shape behind her. “Have a bright and sunny day” was written on a poster with a large smiling sun with big eyes on it. Nearby was a calendar and an old boxy computer on a desk. A white daisy was in a flower pot. “The word of the day is harmony,” was written on a schedule posted on a board behind the children sitting at desks. The orange curtains by the windows had white math symbols on it. The schedule read “math, history, reading, grammar, science, art and music” as the many school subjects for the days of the week.

 “I hope you all did your homework!” she trilled.

  The children nodded with a dance to their bodies. One boy wearing an orange shirt spun around in a stool wearing a dunce cap and he faced the wall. The class broke out randomly into song.

 “We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!”

 The teacher sang, “And when I throw out these fun questions, you should know just what to do.”

 “Okay!” they cheered, arms in the air.

 She wrote on the board 2 + 6 = 8 and added,

“Two plus six is…”

 “Eight!” the class answered.

 “And good behavior’s…”

 “Great!” they chimed in.

 “And now it’s that part of the class when we say the time of day and date.”

 “It’s nine in the morning,” sang a blonde boy…

 “On January 8th…” added a black girl.

 “The sun is out smiling,” said a brown haired girl with a bow.

 “And it’s your husband’s birthday!” reminded the dunce boy with his tongue out.

 As the class sang “la la la,” the teacher found herself scrapping her chalk down in a line on the board. Sweat coated her forehead as the chalk was almost completely broken down. The singing was a constant drone in her head. Her right eye twitched and she turned around.

 “Oh my stars, stop singing children! Hush up now!”

 The class fell silent.

 She put a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it’s my husband’s birthday! I didn’t get him anything special.”

 The brown haired girl stood up and said, “Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!”

 The teacher and kids gathered around the boxy computer. At the husband’s house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read “wifey” on it.

 The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

 The teacher’s husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!

 A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.

 “We won’t be needing this,” a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry’s face on the other side.

The teacher sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

 “Oh yeah,” the husband giggled, “Not there, not there.” They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.

 With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

 Dark thoughts suddenly festered within the woman and she gripped the girl’s neck before tossing her up in the air through the roof. She stomped out of the room and shut the door. The children ran to the window to watch as she got in her old green car and plowed through a white picket fence. “I love school” was on her license plate. The children rushed to the computer.

 The door to the bedroom was quickly pulled open.

 “Oh shit, sweetie!” said her husband, caught in the act of fucking the young lady on their master bed. “What are you doing here?”

 “Shut up, Jarold!” A newfound rage flared in her eyes. A deadly looking riffle was in her hands. She fired several shots.

 The blonde lady shrieked as Mrs. Mayberry moved closer.

 “You scream like a fish!” the teacher mentioned to the blonde haired lady.

 With a demonic yell, she brutally shot the younger woman across multiple areas of her body. Thick blood splattered everywhere.

 Her husband gasped. “Oh god, what have you done?! She had a family!”

 “We could’ve had a family!” the teacher sobbed, in a flood of despair and rage. She picked up a bullet and shot her husband square in the head. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

 “Oh god, what have I done?” she asked, frazzled, whipping away the blood from the screen. She saw her children stare in horror and disgust. “In front you all.” She broke down into tears, seeing her dead husband in a pool of blood.  She spoke her last words through sobs. “I’m so sorry my children. Don’t forget to work on your timestamps.”

 Mrs. Mayberry knew there was nothing left for her but jail time and grief. There was only one other option. With shaking hands, she shot herself in the chest with a yelp. The children fainted on the floor one by one at the traumatizing sight. The policeman took the wailing blonde lady to the hospital…and found Mrs. Mayberry’s body lying next to her husband’s on the blood-stained floor.

 The blonde lady Martha stared lovingly with a brown uncovered eye at her new muscular husband Ralphie wearing an orange plaid shirt. He had brown hair and an athlete/superhero build. Their two children stood by her bedside as she recovered. The room had bouquets of colorful flowers in every corner. Camera flashed as news reporters talked to her.

 “How does it feel to have survived such a crazy bitch?” a newswoman asked.

 “I just hope that sick woman finally found peace,” Martha drawled in her hospital bed.

 Her husband comforted her, head lowered.

 “You are so brave,” the reporter commended to Martha. “Here’s $2 million dollars!”

 The woman’s face lit up as she was handed a large golden check. “Oh thank you!” She smiled at the cameras with her husband like she was a movie star.

 The stereotypical America family lived in a house near the woods and by a lake. Martha dressed like a housewife with a long polka dot skirt. Her daughter had brown pigtails, a lavender shirt with a tie, and a red skirt, with boots. The younger boy had a beaver-skin cap, a white shirt, brown pants and camouflage boots. On the outside, they were the perfect typical family.

 “You’re a hero,” said more news people as she stood elegantly at a VNN (Vivienne News Network) podium.

 “You’re a hero, girl,” admired a brown skinned jogger with short blonde passing Martha by. Martha basked in the attention and wealth. Who knew that getting shot at would change her life for the better.

 “My mama’s a hero!” declared the son.

 “She is a hero!” The brown haired casher agreed down to him as the family went grocery shopping.

 “Ooooh…You’re a hero!” moaned her husband as he thrust his penis wildly in and out of her as they made love in their bedroom. Their walls were covered with pelvises and newspaper clippings of Martha under “local hero” headings.

 “You’re a hero,” smiled an old praying priest who stood by her at one church meeting.

 Even worse for Mayberry, a new class of children cheered, “You’re a hero!” to Martha when she taught a “How to deal with trauma 101 class.”

 “Oh you’re a hero!” another man groaned as he wildly gave her anal.

  Mrs. Mayberry woke up staring at a crimson red sky. Her form had completely changed… Mrs. Mayberry was now a purple demon with stripped curved horns on her head, wearing rectangular glasses. She wore a pale red shirt with x stitches on it, along with an eye where her pendant was. Her hair was long and white and pulled back with a black bandana. She wore a dark skirt with an upside down cross on it and heels. She also had sharp yellow teeth.

 After finding a place to live and shying out of sight from shady strangers, Mrs. Mayberry had the chance to continue her career where she left off. So she did. It took some learning and adaptation to Hell’s culture but fortunately...it was pretty simple.

 Mrs. Mayberry was soon hired at “Pentagram Penitentiary Place,” one of the top public schools in the district. It was a large school for grades K-12. The name of the school was in black letters surrounded by a red downward facing pentagram over the black front doors. “All grades in one place!” read the slogan. The building was of red-orange brick with three rows of low cracked windows facing the front. The outdoor playground consisted of rusted basketball hoops, a jungle gym, dark asphalt and a swing set that made squeaky sounds every time it was used. The slide was high up and made of metal, so that it was always painfully hot for the young demon children to slide down. A barbed wire fence with swirls of wire at the top surrounded the prison-like school.

 A bunch of middle schoolers were bouncing a demon skull around and tossing it into the basketball hoops. Little preschooler demons rough-housed on the grass-less ground, laughing. One small green dragon kept making burping sounds, emitting orange sparks much to the delight of his peers.  A dinosaur used his tail for a black eyed doll girl to use as a jump rope. There was even a little scary-go round that furry bird-like kids went on to test their flying and spin out of control in the air. One white bird crashed against the fence and slid down with a flop.

 “Loser!” taunted a bulky blue cyclops kid wearing a baseball cap. He spat on the bird’s upside-down head and laughed with his goons. An older demon with a rhino’s horn was spray-painting teal blue penises on the walls.

 “Watch your back!” he called out to a centaur who fired an arrow from a bow, startled. The green lizard demon tied to the target glanced down at the arrow that had almost gotten him in the crotch. He sighed with relief, only to have an ax lodged into his head, thrown by an orange goat teenager.

 Nearby were two purple demons with silvery snake hair sitting on a concrete window ledge, wearing blouses, sequined navy skirts and shoes. They were listening to music from their Eye-Pods. One of them was painting her nails and the other took a drag from an e-cigarette. Every kid had a multiple digit number temporarily tattooed on their necks. An E, an M and an H were before the numbers, for elementary, middle and high school. The following number indicated their grade and the last two numbers were their position in alphabetical order. K or a P next to the E stood for kindergarten and preschool.

 A loud buzzer rang at the top of the roof, signaling class starting. The children were lined up in front of their respective teachers. Mrs. Mayberry stood in front of her line of preschool demons.

 After singing a song about a demonic turtle drowning in a bathtub with the class, she counted each child as they made their way to homeroom. They all filled in and sat at their wooden desks. The demonic alphabet was listed on a nearby poster with translations into English and other languages.

 “Good morning!” Mrs. Mayberry trilled in the windowless classroom, scrapping her chalk against the blackboard before catching it with a twirl. “I hope you all did your homework.”

 The kids fearfully nodded.

 “Hmm, I don’t think you did, EP-04,” she scolded a demon boy wearing an orange shirt with no paper in front of him. “Go sit in time-out.”

 The boy groaned and sat on a stool facing the wall. The white dunce cap burned on his head.

 “The pledge of allegiance,” Mrs. Mayberry led. The class stood up with their hands on their hearts.

 “I pledge allegiance and my soul to the banner

Of His Majesty Lucifer and Her Majesty Lilith

And to the unholy Inferno

For Pentagram City

One nation under Satan

Indivisible

With liberty and chaos for all!”

 They sat back down.

 “Now let’s sing,” Mrs. Mayberry ordered.

 The demonic class broke out into song:

 “We love to do our homework and learn stuff every day.”

 “And when I throw in these hard questions, you should know just what to say,” Mrs. Mayberry sang.

 “Okay!” they cheered.

 She wrote an equation on the board. “Divide this number by…”

 “Zero!”

 “Our favorite paint is…”

 “Bloody red!”

 “And when there’s a stranger danger…”

 “You stab them in the head!” they answered, making stabbing motions with their arms.

 “A poison for a deep sleep?” she asked

 “Wormwood! Does no good!”

 “The geological components of Hell?”

 “Fire and brimstone!” added a girl.

 “If you can’t use love…”

 “Use hate!”

 “Now it’s time for us to say the day and date.”

 “Your death day was on January 8th, right?” piped up a boy in the back.

 Mrs. Mayberry stopped short. “Hush up! We don’t mention that date.” She turned to the class. “Go on.”

 “It’s 3 in the afternoon…” said a boy.

 “On October 31st,” said a green girl.

 “Hell’s heat is still hot,” said another girl, sweating.

 “Let’s watch the episode first!” reminded the dunce boy.

 The demons went “la la la” as Mrs. Mayberry stared at the board, red eyes wide.

 “Oh my suns! Stop singing children. Shut up!”

 The demons fell silent.

 “I forgot it’s the new episode! I’m supposed to be off to pursue my revenge!”

 “Maybe you could scare your enemies at a death-day party!” a girl suggested with her hands up in the air.

 Mrs. Mayberry looked at her hell-phone and saw the last seconds of an I.M.P. commercial. She stood up to walk away.

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry,” said a girl, taking hold of her hand. “Remember what you taught us. Act before you think.”

 Mrs. Mayberry pat her head. “I think not. Work on your timestamps and assignments, children. I’m off to pursue a little education of my own.”

 A horn-covered sub man walked in and bellowed, “200 pushups on the double! Or it’s back to your cells!”

 The demons got up from their seats and bent down to do the pushups.

 Mrs. Mayberry called a taxi outside and it drove her off.

 Up on a screen outside her window, Mrs. Mayberry saw a full commercial where she learned of an assassination company called I.M.P.

 “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent and I’m the funder of I.M.P.! Are you a piece of shit that got sent to Hell? Or are you an innocent soul who just so happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next shot showed a bulky red demon with horns, wearing a white Ohio shirt/jersey. A sign read, “Some guy who hired us!” The demon spoke:

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you could imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the State of Ohio killed me.” He rammed his meaty fists. “I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!”

 “Guess I’m not the only one who murdered my spouse,” she thought. “I’ve also never seen a guy with…such muscles before…”

 Blitzo appeared again. “Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…we promise to take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!”

 The sounds of the imp jingle motivated Mrs. Mayberry as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the I.M.P. building. She got out, climbed up the stairs and knocked on the office door. It opened and out popped Blitzo.

 “Is this I.M.P.?” she asked.

 “Yes,” Blitzo said.

 “I figured, since I saw the commercial. I have one bad bitch that needs to be killed. And I’ve got a lot to say.”

 “Well, come on in then,” he said.

 Mrs. Mayberry paced Blitzo’s office at I.M.P. headquarters as she told her story.

  “I was a good person before it all went down,” she narrated, pacing to and fro. “I was good my entire life.”

 She continued on, adding details about her personal life. She held a cigarette in her hand. Apparently, it was easy to get into unhealthy habits in Hell.

 “You do everything right in life, play by the rules, and still get sent down here with all the Hitlers and Epsteins of the world. After one measly massacre propelled by blind rage. So that’s why I’m here. To get my revenge.”

 “I mean was she hotter?” Blitzo remarked with a smirk.

 The demon’s eyes flared red in anger, her face partially in shadow by the drawn blinds. A lemon tree was in the background with a sign that read “no whores” beside it. Blitzo casually lounged in his office chair.

 “I’m just saying I had a hard time understanding the unprompted melodrama you just spat at me, tits,” Blitzo chuckled.

 Mayberry growled and her body briefly glowed red. Her cigarette bent in her hand.

 Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Anyway I don’t think you quite understand how we’re operating down here.” He stood up and Mrs. Mayberry glared at him. “You see we take revenge on the living and it sounds like the core cast of your sitcom of a death frankly are all probably down here in Hell with you. Boop.”

 He bonked her on the nose.

 Mayberry’s pointed tail twitched, her purple claws clenched. Her skirt was torn with holes and her feet were cloven hooves. This imp guy was worse than the demonic children she taught.

 Mayberry extended her left claws. “Not all of them. That whore survived. Now they all call her a hero.”

 She continued. “Between the talk shows and bullshit donations she made so much goddamn cash. Getting shot was the best thing to happen to her.”

 Mayberry bashed her fists into the ground, creating cracks. “She’s not a hero!” Mayberry yelled, getting in close to Blitzo’s face.

 “Yeah, okay, yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Blitzo stuttered in a rapid nervous voice. He frantically pressed a red button under the desk multiple times. The red light flashed under the “Deranged Client” label on a dashboard. The other labels read, “More Coffee,” “Soiled My Pants,” “Horny Client,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Ghost,” and “Stolas.”

 Blitzo later burst through the door, followed by Mrs. Mayberry. “Guys, I’d like you to meet, our newest client!”

 The room suddenly burst into flames…Blitzo was furious. He quickly led Mrs. Mayberry outside where she hopped into a taxi to wait back home.

 “Bye and don’t worry,” called Blitzo to her, “We’ll get that skank in less than 24 hours or your first kill is free!”

 She could only hope that crazy imp and his team could do their job.

 As it turned out, Mrs. Mayberry later found out that not only had I.M.P. killed Martha, they also killed her crazy Satanic family. Mrs. Mayberry was very impressed. She held a piece of cake and laughed with the I.M.P. members for a special celebration. Millie talked about how it was okay to kill someone if they tried to kill you back.

 “That’s messed up,” mentioned Mrs. Mayberry. Then she smiled. “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone laughed again. Mrs. Mayberry felt good among her new allies. She had embraced her past at last.

 After the celebration, she got back into the taxi but instead of heading home, she headed further into town.

 There was a red Ohio demon for her to thank.

 Part Two: The Imps’ Adventure

In another room, Moxxie was holding a black and red crossbow in his hands. In front of him was a picture of a smiling family: a father, a mother, a baby and two children. His arms were shaking as the reflector hovered around the man’s crotch area.

 “Moxxie, stop shaking!” Millie chided. “You’re gonna shoot our only hellhound!”

 Loona lay on her back on a gray couch. The family picture was in one hand and her phone was in the other. On the wall were drawings of Blitzo as a horse and a drawing of Robo Fizz with an arrow sticking out from it.

 Loona spoke in a sarcastic tone, “Wow. I feel so loved here.”

 “Just take a deep breath,” Millie told Moxxie, inhaling, “and let it out.”

 “But, it’s a family,” Moxxie argued. “Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?”

 “I mean if that’s what the client wants,” Millie began.

 “Maybe like a shitty dad,” Moxxie suggested. “Or a mob family.” He spoke through his teeth, “That’s understandable.” He then spoke normally. “But to eradicate an entire innocent, seemingly innocent, upper middle class family bloodline?”

 Loona stared at the picture for a moment before pointing to Moxxie.

 “Hey! You don’t know their innocent.”

 She pointed to the boy. “This kid probably sets dogs on fire.”

 She pointed to the girl. “Maybe this girl gets off to bullying Australian kids online.”

 She pointed to the father. “And this guy…” She narrowed her eyes and spoke lower. “This guy definitely watches.”

 “Exactly!” Millie agreed. “Humans are full of secret nasties. It’s why so many of them end up here. But guilty and innocent aren’t our business, Mox.” She cupped his cheeks. “Killing who we’re paid to is our business. Choose a target.”

 She kissed him before stepping aside. Moxxie positioned his crossbow again.

 “I just think it’s a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all.”

 Just then, Blitzo barged into the room, followed by Mrs. Mayberry.

 “Guys! I want you to meet…”

 Startled, Moxxie fired the arrow and it ricocheted around the room. Millie jumped into Moxxie’s arms as the arrow hit a computer. It then flew and poked a hole in the family picture that a startled Loona held. The arrow made impact with the bottom of an eel tank, causing it to wobble dangerously. The arrow speed toward Mrs. Mayberry but Blitzo calmly caught it in one hand.

 “…our newest client!”

 The eel tank suddenly fell down, glass and water pouring onto the floor. The eels burst with electricity, casing the room to erupt in flames. Loona, Moxxie and Millie cowered in fear.

 “Dammit, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!” Blitzo yelled in anger.

 Soon, imp firefighters rushed to the scene to put out the flames as the group waited outside. The firefighters also carried the eels away to their red fire truck. Although imps were immune to fire, the buildings were not.

 Mrs. Mayberry climbed into a taxi cab.

 “Bye,” Blitzo waved, “and don’t worry, we’ll get that skank in less than twenty four hours or your first kill is free!” He waved as the taxi drove away.

 “When did we start implementing that deal?” Moxxie asked.

 Blitzo turned to glare at him. He pulled him close, holding his face.

 “When you set fire to my office in front of a…” Blitzo screamed, “client, you fucking dipshit!" He shoved Moxxie out of the way in anger. “Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!”

 Loona stood against the wall, typing on her phone. “You mean our only ticket to the other side?” She pulled out a blue book from behind her. “Yeah, got it.”

 Blitzo came over to her and started to baby talk to her. “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Loony. You get a treat now.”

 He held up a dog treat in his hands, tossed it in the air and caught it with his long tongue.

 “Ew, stop it,” Loona said with disgust. Blitzo pulled the biscuit into his mouth and chewed.

 “You’re so gross!” she remarked.

  A nearby billboard with Blitzo’s face on it read with misspellings: “Goat an asshole in the living worlds!? Come to I Am Pee!!??! Make sure you put this sign up on the rite side. Don’t fuck this up. Also payment may take a couple of weeks because it cums in the mail. –Speech to text- -Blitzo”

 Millie drew a pentagram with chalk onto the wall. The pentagram glowed red and a portal to the human world appeared.

 “Aw stop it, I get enough of that from my therapist,” Blitzo told Loona before she left. He mentioned to the other imps, and moved his fist in front of him. Now let’s go lick some ass!” He pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face.

 “The expression is “kick some ass.” Blitzo,” Millie mentioned before she stepped through the portal. Blitzo let go of Moxxie’ face.

 “Mine’s better,” Blitzo said before following her.

 “Aw, fuck,” Moxxie sighed as he followed them through the portal.

 All three imps stood in front of a small red house by the lake as the sun set. Blitzo and Moxxie leaned against the side of the house, rising from the bushes. Blitzo stood up and peered into a window. A row of white flowers were on a planter on the ledge.

 “That’s gotta be her,” Blitzo whispered. He then chuckled darkly. “This is too easy.” He looked over at Moxxie. “Moxxie, do you want this one?”

 Moxxie looked stunned and smiled nervously. “Me?”

 “Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle. It’s just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital.”

 Moxxie stood up and looked through the window. His face fell as he looked at the happy family enjoying dinner. A pig’s head was at the center of the table. The house was decorated with axes and guns on the walls. A lamp stand seemed to be made out of a spinal column. Ralphie and Martha affectionately rubbed each other’s noses, Martha holding a dinner platter in her hand. Moxxie hesitated; there was no way he could kill any one of them.

 “You snooze you lose, Mox!” Blitzo called out.

 He got out his gun, which was black with flames painted on it. The reflector was an upside down cross and it hovered over Martha’s face. She smiled with large doe eyes and blinked innocently.

 “And I’ve got you, bitch,” Blitzo murmured.

 “Wait, are we actually killing a family?!” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “No, don’t be a puss, we’re just killing a mother,” Blitzo remarked. “We’re running a family.” He grinned and clicked his rifle, positioning it.

 “But…” Moxxie began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

 Moxxie lifted up the rifle just before Blitzo fired. The bullet hit a glass mirror in the house, causing the family members to gasp in fear.

 “What was that, Ralphie?” Martha asked her husband, who sat at the table.

 Ralphie shook his head. “I don’t know Martha, but whatever it is…”

 He stood up with a sharp-toothed grin, holding a rifle in his hands.

 “They’re gonna be tomorrow night’s dinner!”

 Martha set the platter down on the table, downed a glass of wine and smashed the glass on the floor.

 “Alright, kids! Gun’s out!” She called with an evil grin. The kids, too, grinned evilly as they pulled out smaller guns. The boy pulled out his from his brown beaver-skin hat.

 “Looks like we’ve got some rabbits to catch, youngins!” Ralphie said with an evil chuckle.

 Back outside, Blitzo was fuming. “What the fuck was that, Moxxie?”

 Moxxie breathed anxiously before letting out a croak, his snake-like tongue flickering. He fell to his knees, hands over his face.

 “I’m sorry. They just seemed so wholesome and happy.” Tears fell from his eyes. “I panicked.”

 Blitzo face-palmed. “Oh who the fuck is innocent, Moxxie? From the moment of birth, you’re already a parasite leeching off your momma’s tits.”

 He grabbed his chest in an imitation of holding breasts. He leaned in and poked Moxxie painfully on the head. “Now get the fuck over yourself you baby dick prick!”

 A bullet fired through the wall and shot Blitzo in the arm. He cried out as black blood splattered.

 “A new hole!” Blitzo cried in terror. “Scatter!”

 Blitzo and Millie leapt into the air just as another gunshot created a larger hole in the wall. A grinning Martha and Ralphie leapt through the hole and chased after them, guns drawn. Moxxie peered out from behind the bush, rapidly looking around. A child’s hand grabbed Moxxie’s pointed tail and he yelped. He only saw a barrage of fists from the children before passing out.

 Millie flipped backwards along a cobblestone trail before diving into the lake.

 “There you go, little critter!” Ralphie called, firing another bullet. He stepped onto the wooden dock. “Y’all can’t hide long from me!”

 Millie had her head above the water under the dock, a knife in her mouth. She broke through the dock with a crash before landing with a grin, knife at the ready. Ralphie swing a beer bottle at her, but she moved behind him out of the way. Millie jumped up in the air, knife in both hands. Ralphie swung the bottle upwards, hitting her in the head. The glass shattered and she fell to the ground with a loud yelp. Millie struggled weakly to stand, but collapsed onto the dock, eye twitching. Ralphie grinned down at her as the sky spiraled red. He picked her up and headed deep into the woods.

 Moxxie opened his eyes and gasped with a squeak to find his hands and body tied with rope. He appeared to be tied to a stitched up headless dead body sitting on a chair. Moxxie’s face fell in fear as he stared at the boy and girl in front of him. Both their eyes were red and devious grins formed on their faces.

 Moxxie tried to defuse the fear. “Oh. Hello there little ones. Aren’t you cute?”

 The children spoke in low distorted voices, the boy finishing shortly after the girl.

 “It’s nice to have a new critter to play with.”

 Moxxie glanced up in terror at a red spotlight above him. The light revealed a human head high up and several limbs on plaques. The wooden walls were stained with red blood. Tow plaques held stitched up faces of skin. A larger plaque displayed a dead man with long white hair, arms crossed, eyes and teeth bulging out. His upper chest was connected to the plaque. A picture frame made of bones displayed another face made of skin inside it. Human skin was tacked to the wall with “bless this mess” stitched onto it. Moxxie looked and saw a dead human body on a platter, an apple in its mouth. Organs were displayed in a nearby bowl.

 Moxxie took one look at the dead body and whimpered. “Aw. Crumbs.”

 Meanwhile, Blitzo was running for his life in the woods. Four gunshots rang out as Blitzo darted through a bush, leaves falling to the ground. Martha’s evil echoing laughter quickened his pace. The imp slide down a grass hill, landing on his feet. He crouched under the bushes, looking around. He panted, catching his breath.

 “I know you’re hurtin’, little devil,” drawled Martha in a sing-song voice.

 Blitzo darted behind a tree, taking in deep silent breaths. His back was pressed against the bark. He covered his mouth, not daring to move.

 “I promise that I can make that pain go real quick.”

 Martha walked through the woods, not too far away, in shadow. “Just come let Mama Martha put a bullet in that pretty little skull!”

 Blitzo sighed in relief after hearing the footsteps fade.

 Ring! Ring! Ahh!

 A startled Blitzo scrambled to retrieve his yellow cell-phone, which was ringing a yelling ringtone. He eventually caught the phone before pressing it to his ear. The phone had a GFY (Go Fuck Yourself) on it and a laughing devil emoji with imp horns.

 “This is a really bad time,” Blitzo whispered.

 At Stolas’ palace, the owl prince was currently lounging in an ornate bathtub, several lit candles with blue flames positioned around the edges. Astrological symbols glowed white in a circle on the floor. The midnight blue curtains looked like the night sky, with starry designs on them. Floating constellations hovered around the room. He was the prince of astronomy as well as being horny.

 “When isn’t it a bad time, Blitzy?” he mused, stretching his long slender arm. He held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like sunflowers.

 Blitzo sighed in frustration. “What is it?”

 Stolas’ four red eyes blinked. “I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my grimoire?”

 Blitzo’s angry face appeared in a bubble.

 “What did you just call me?” Blitzo asked. Stolas popped the bubble with a finger. “My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?”

 Blitzo ducked as a bullet flew through the tree he was behind. Martha’s shadowy figure appeared in the hole, her eyes and mouth glowing red.

 “I can hear ya, darling!” she called out.

 “Shit,” Blitzo muttered, scurrying off.

 “Anywho,” Stolas continued. “I have been thinking. You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfil my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?”

 He ran a finger along the edge of the tub. He then did a walking motion with his fingers as they glowed red.

 “Favors for favors? Doesn’t that sound…” He spoke seductively, “…enticing?”

 Blitzo skidded to a stop as another bullet hit a tree. He ducked behind another one and frantically whispered, “You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I’m trying to concentrate on not getting fucked in my hay!”

 Bam!

 Another bullet hit a spot on the tree.

 “Then let me keep it simple,” Stolas explained. “Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…”

 His eyes glowed red, his beak open in lust…

 “…passionate fornication.” He briefly slid lower in the tub with a blush before rising up to lean against the tub.

 “And…you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little imp?”

 “Fine, whatever!” Blitzo replied.

 Blitzo let out a happy sigh. “Oh Blitzy! I’m so excited! I cannot wait to fill your slimy **** inside of my *****…”

 Blitzo cringed as Blitzo went on about the sexual things he planned to do to him.

 Out of nowhere, Blitzo found himself being pinned against the tree by the bottom handle of Martha’s gun.

 “Got ya!” she grinned. Bltzo’s phone was on the ground, Stolas still talking.

 “So, you’re a little devil, huh?” she asked, a wide grin. “Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well not today, Satan!”

 She pressed the gun further into Blitzo. “Gonna send y’all back where ya came from!”

 She hit Blitzo hard and he slumped to the ground. She took him and headed off into the woods.

 Back at the house, Moxxie struggled to free his tied up hands and body. In the reflection of the window, he could see the orange yellow lights of fires. He gasped.

 “Millie!”

 The two kids stared deviously at him. He froze when the girl revealed a long sharp knife in her hands. Moxxie glared, determined. As the girl raised the knife, Moxxie shoved her backwards with the chair. There was a thud as the chair toppled over onto the floor. Moxxie grabbed the knife and cut the rope loose, freeing himself. A “Live, Laugh, Love” sign and a hangman’s noose hung from the wall. Moxxie burst through the round window, a shadow silhouette with glowing yellow eyes. Wasting no time, he raced into the woods and toward rows of torches. Hanging from the trees were red Satanic symbols. There were also tents around the area.

 A full moon appeared in the sky from behind thin clouds. Down below, Blitzo and Millie were tied to a stake decorated with black spikes at the top. Ralphie laughed as he poured gasoline onto the ground by their feet. Martha stood nearby, holding a torch in her left hand. Her blouse was torn and low cut, with polka dots on them. Her eyes were red and she wore skull earrings.

 Blitzo groaned in frustration. “I had that fucking shot. God dammit, Moxxie.”

 “Satan!” Martha declared. “We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!” She raised her torch. “May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!”

 Martha tossed the torch underneath Blitzo and Moxxie, who still struggled to free themselves. Ralphie laughed again. The stake soon lit up in flames…

 …leaving the imps unscathed.

 “Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, lady,” Blitzo explained. “Sorry, your fire doesn’t really hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that’ll get your dick hard.” He smirked and Millie giggled.

 “Oh. Shit.” Martha stared confused and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

 Then she got a better idea and grinned. “Well, I’ll just shoot you in your smart-ass mouth!” She held her rifle in her hands.

 “That would be more effective,” Blitzo mentioned.

 “Blitzo!” Millie spat.

 Martha laughed again as she raised the rifle, two barrels pointing at the imps. The imps closed their eyes and flinched.

 A loud bang and a yelp was heard. Martha’s eyeball flew from her socket and she collapsed to the ground.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried, seeing Moxxie hold a gun in his hands. Moxxie raced over and untied Millie and Blitzo.

 “You’re not getting your goddam paycheck for this one, Mox!” Blitzo mentioned before he fell down. Moxxie and Millie embraced each other with small smiles. They slowly moved their heads against each other in affection. Ralphie tripped over Martha’s body before fleeing the scene.

 “Oh yeah, thanks! I’m fine!” Blitzo spoke out in sarcasm.

 Moxxie helped Blitzo up, supporting him.

 “I’m sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm’s way. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

 Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug. “Apology accepted.” Then he spoke to Moxxie in a low threatening voice. “But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I’ll fuck you and your wife.”

 Just as fast, Blitzo separated from Moxxie and announced, “Alrighty! Job well done! Now let’s get off.” Millie lifted her arms in a cheer. From his chest, Blitzo pulled out a gray horse figure with a back mane like a My Little Pony toy. He put it back and retrieved his cell phone.

 “Eh. Yeah give me a moment. I need to get something I left at the house,” Moxxie said.

 “Okay, fine but hurry up,” Blitzo said. He put his cell phone to his ear and spoke loudly, “Loona! We’re ready to come home, dear!”

 Moxxie raced through the woods, determined to set things right. In the background, Stolas was talking to Blitzo, mentioning, “You and I on…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all night.”

 Back inside the house, the boy and girl were in their father’s arms in a corner.

 “Don’t move!” Moxxie demanded, pointing his rifle at them. The boy and girl looked scared and innocent. The girl even had a dark gray stitched up teddy bear with her.

 Ralphie chucked. “What are you gonna do, little guy? Kill us?”

 “I should!” Moxxie replied, stepping back. “You people are monsters!” Then he lowered the rifle. “But… you should have a chance at a life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them! You are going to face your crimes, justly.”

 He picked up a remote from a stand. “I am calling your earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with, fairly. I am handing this, my way.”

 He pressed a button and a television turned on in the adjacent room. A black and white program played. Moxxie gasped in surprise, then looked down at it.

 “Oh shit,” he muttered. The black remote had pink and white buttons reminiscent of a smiling goofy face.

 “Uh do you…do you have a phone to summon 911?”

 “Yeah, it’s in the kitchen,” Ralphie mentioned behind him.

 Moxxie held the remote. “Then what’s this for?”

 “It’s a universal remote,” Ralphie replied. “Got it for the kids.” The kids smiled and he pulled them in a hug.

 “Aww,” Moxxie smiled, eyes shining.

 He called the police and hurried back to the portal in the dark woods.

 “There he is,” Blitzo said. “Have a good wank-off session, Moxxie?”

 “Excuse me?”

 Blitzo walked over to him. “Well I don’t care where you cum in the living world, just come to your job on time, alright?” He poked Moxxie several times for emphasis. “See you at the office!” He ran through the portal.

 Millie placed a hand on Moxxie’s cheek. “You doing okay, sweetie?”

 “Better now, honey,” Moxxie replied with a smile. “I think I just needed a minute to process.”

 Millie tenderly touched Moxxie’s chest. “You have a good heart, honey.” She playfully pinched Moxxie’s nose. “Just a fuzzy head.” She kissed him and Moxxie’s heart fluttered. He smiled happily as Millie walked through the portal.

 Moxxie heard the whirl of blades and flashes of light. He turned around. There were police cars and a helicopter in front of the house.

 A voice over a loudspeaker said, “We got em’ boys!”

 A missile fired at the roof and the entire house exploded in a fiery inferno. Something hit Moxxie in the face. He stared at the ground and found the head of the teddy bear that had flown off. He stared with a shocked look of disbelief on his face. The family that had a chance to be better was now dead.

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie hard by the neck and pulled him through the portal.

 Later on, everyone was laughing and celebrating back at I.M.P. headquarters. They were all wearing birthday party hats. Loona and Mrs. Mayberry held slices of cake on plates. A white banner read “Killed the bitch,” in red letters. A white and blue cake sat in front of Moxxie, the blue icing read “We did it! :)” Everyone seemed joyful except for Moxxie. He still felt awful that they had killed an entire family. An evil family, but still…They had come close to being killed or caught. Now here they were celebrating human death.

 Moxxie wasn’t sure if he agreed to the “senseless killing” morals of I.M.P. anymore.

 Millie squealed for joy and hugged Moxxie tight around the neck. “Did you see my little Mox, Mox? We did it! Oh Moxxie!”

 “Well here’s to another mission accomplished,” Blitzo announced, “…and Moxxie finally learned not to fuck up.”

 Moxxie just stared wordlessly at his plate, dark circles under his eyes.

 “And killing people isn’t that big of a deal if they try to kill you back,” Millie added, rubbing Moxxie’s white head of hair.

 “That’s messed up,” said Mrs. Mayberry, “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone except Moxxie chuckled at that.

 “Yeah, fuck that family!” Blitzo declared, raising a fist.

Helluva Boss Episode Two: Loo-Loo Land

Part One: Octavia

 Hundreds of years ago in Hell…Stolas’ Palace

  Before Octavia Goetia was a 117 year old owl princess (Mentally turned seventeen supposedly August 15 2003), she was a cute little child owl living with her mother and father.

 At night, faint blue constellations illuminated against the exterior of the estate. On the lower jutting wall structure supporting a balcony, Stolas’ sigil symbol also glowed blue in the dark. The balcony itself was spacious and decorated with hanging see-through drapes along the pillars. Spirals and a few eyes were also part of the design above the pillars. Bushes were lined up in rows on an upper row above the balcony, with little rows of coffin-shaped windows behind them in another wall. The borders of the building were decorated with difference phases of the moon in gold. Finally, the double doors on the balcony were stained glass in yellow and orange, with a sun on the left and a crescent moon on the right.

 Inside the estate, three candles cast a dim teal light in the darkened master bedroom. The spacious room had a white tall couch off to the side and a rotary phone on a nearby dresser. Hanging on the wall was a mirror and several large portraits of Stolas dressed in red robes and a crown. Rows of small red banners hung around the top of the bed and four red curtains with gold royal symbols were draped tight around the bed. The bedspread matched the curtains.

 “Mommy! Daddy!”

 A child’s cry from another room roused the owl prince from his slumber. One of his red eyes opened halfway, another one a slit near the top of his dark feathery head. His face was white and heart-shaped. He turned his head to where his wife was sleeping. She was a white owl with long eyebrows that extended past her face. She was curled up in most of the blankets.

 “Via’s calling us, Stella,” Stolas groaned sleepily.

 Stella let out a sigh. “You get up,” she replied tiredly.

 Stolas sighed and rose out of bed, briefly putting his fingers to his head. He opened the door to Octavia’s bedroom. The wallpaper consisted of several columns of moons and stars. Astronomy books lined a shelf while tapped drawings on the wall showed stick figures of Stolas and Octavia, labeled “Daddy,” and “Me.” A nearby portrait showed a smiling Stolas giving an overjoyed Octavia a piggy back ride against a blue background.

 Stolas opened the white door, wearing his red housecoat and a pair of demon face slippers.

 “Dear? What troubles you, my owlet?”

 Octavia’s room was small, with a bookcase and strings of lights hanging around. A white and pink chest and telescope were decorated with stray feathers. Her bed was decorated with small stars and a pink crown on the white headboard, sparkling curtains on either side. A stuffed cat lay on the floor. A lavender blanket with yellow stars on it was currently quivering on the bed. A small frightened face popped out from under the covers: little Octavia. She wore pink jammies with white stars on them. Her face was white and her eyes were large and pink with white pupils. Three gray feathers stuck out from her feathery head and she also had a little tail.

 The little girl sobbed and climbed out of bed.

 “Daddy! Daddy!”

 She ran into her father’s arms.

 “I had a dream! A really bad dream!” Her mouth quivered in a whimper.

 Stolas scooped her up into his arms and yawned.

 “A nightmare.”

 He wiped a tear away from her face.

 Octavia spread out her arms. “I was looking all over the palace and…I couldn’t find you anywhere! You weren’t there!”

 Tears appeared from her eyes and she hugged her father around the neck.

 “There, there, Via. It’s okay; you’re okay.”

 He pat her several times on the back and carried her into the room. A blue grimoire with a golden crescent moon on the cover floated into the room in a purple cloud of magic.

 Stolas sat down on the bed, Octavia in his lap. The book hovered next to him and he waved his hand to turn the pages. Stolas looked at Octavia.

 “When you’re sacred and you don’t know where I am, you must remember: I will never be far away from my special little Starfire.”

 He playfully poked her on the nose and she giggled.

 Stolas waved his hand and magic surrounded it. He moved his hand to the ceiling and created a starry portal above their heads. Octavia looked up with wonder in her eyes. It was then that Stolas started singing his lullaby: “You Will Be Okay.”

 “It always seems more quiet in the dark”

“It always feels so stark”

 Both of them floated upward through the hole. A brilliant indigo night sky filled with stars was revealed. A small bright sun and a distant ringed planet hovered in the distance. Stolas stood on the surface of a large white moon dotted with craters of various sizes.

 “How silence grows under the moon

Constellations gone so soon”

 Stolas’ feet made talon bird tracks on the surface as he carried his daughter.

 “I used to think that I was bold

I used to think love would be fun

Now all my stories have been told

Except for one”

 Stolas looked down at Octavia’s innocent eyes as their faces shone from the pinkish light of the nearby star. Octavia was the ongoing part of his life that Stolas continued to live for, day by day. In all the centuries of his long life, no sexual conquests, no battles nor royal duties could compare with the unique experience of raising a child. In a sea of constellations, Octavia was a guiding light to a greater purpose.

 The ringed planet hovered beside another planet bathed in purple-pink light. A rocky meteor caught on fire and soared toward a molten planet.

 “As the stars start to align

I hope you take it as a sign

That you’ll be okay”

 Stolas sat down on a small rock and held his daughter close.

 “Everything will be okay.”

 The meteor slowly dipped into the molten planet, turning a fiery orange. The meteor broke through the planet, causing it to break into rocky pieces. Stolas and Octavia sat on a floating chunk of rock as light burst upward from between the gaps of the planet debris.

 “And if the Seven rings collapse

Although the day could be my last

You will be okay. When I’m gone you’ll be okay…”

 Octavia yawned and nestled into her father’s feathery chest with a small smile on her sleepy face. Stolas knew that even a powerful demon like himself could not live forever. Angelic weapons could kill both Hell-born and Sinners in Hell. The higher class Hell-born could respawn like the Sinners but unlike the dead previous humans, the Hell-born aged slowly and could die of natural causes like mortals.

 Stolas was a part of a powerful ancient clan of demons, one of the first in Hell. The Ars Goetia brothers in arms were very numerous and powerful…desirable targets for enemies like Valentino and the lot. The family living for so many years didn’t lessen the potential sadness that permanent death would bring.

 Like any good parent, Stolas wanted what was best for his child; to pass down some existential knowledge for her to remember later on.

 “And when creation goes to die

You can find me in the sky”

 Seven planets flew toward the sun, creating powerful impacts. The planets turned ashen black before everything burst into an explosion of light. Stolas’ vocalizing face was illuminated by the large pink smoke from the galactic explosion.

 Tears pooled in Stolas’ eyes as the portal closed behind him, now back in the bedroom. A red and gold metallic model of a solar system hung from the back wall. Stolas lifted the starry blanket and draped it over a sleeping Octavia.

 “Upon the last day

And you will be okay…”

 Stolas walked toward the door, looking at her lovingly again before closing it. Octavia slept peacefully in her bed like a happy chick in a nest.

   Stolas’ palace, Dec 9 2020, present day

 Octavia jolted awake suddenly, her pink eyes angular with constricted white pupils. Her hand rested by her face. Her eyes narrowed in anger, her fist clenched as piercing yelling from another room echoed off the walls.

 Her parents were having yet another fight.

 She got out her phone and texted Loona: “Parents fighting again. Fuck my life.”

 Loona replied: “Srry 2 hear that. Currently dealing with asshole boss and Moxxie the dick. Hang out at concert Friday?”

 Octavia: “Hope so. Mom has grudge against imps and hellhounds, what a royal bitch.”

 Loona: “Smh. Hang in there, my friend.”

 Octavia knew that her regal mother, Stella was pissed that Stolas had fucked the imp Blitzo behind her back. Octavia often worried that Stolas would go on some honeymoon with that creature and leave her behind with Stella. Stella wasn’t cruel but she was sterner than Stolas was. Octavia didn’t know which was worse, her father’s childish attitude laced with a perverted nature…or her mother’s cold critiques of Octavia’s behavior. Stella loved her but expected her to mold into the royal role she was given from birth. Stella was more concerned with tea parties, fashionable attire and her appearance than Octavia’s many thoughts.

 Currently, Octavia was just a typical emo/goth teenager who had to deal with a lot of stuff going on.  

 Octavia’s room was different as well. More spacious, it had a couple of slanted windows between purple drawn curtains that let in some light. A solar system mobile hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. A mirror hung on the wall along with several banners with suns and moons on them. A long couch in the style of white feathers sat off to the side, complete with comfy cushions and pillows. There was a smaller purple telescope as well. Her bed still had the sparkling starry drapes and above that, were hanging purple drapes with a small moon on it and a large pink eye at the very top. Her bedspread was midnight blue with crescent moons on them and the chest by her bed was plainer than before.

 Octavia sat up in bed, with her feathers ruffled, quite literally as well as figuratively. With a grumpy look on her face, Octavia inserted earphones into her ears and held a blue phone in her hand, decorated with a yellow crescent moon. Octavia got dressed in her usual pink shirt with stars on it, black pants, shoes and a crown on her head.

 A playlist of songs appeared, the majority of them were by My Chemical Romance and some were by Lilith. An icon with flames and a sad face appeared on the screen and she pressed the play icon. Pop music played in her ears as a person sang: “My world is burning down around me.”

 The screams grew with intensity as she got out of bed and walked down a hall lined with Venus Fly Trap plants of different colors. They were arranged in a pattern of brown, magenta and purple. One poor potted planet crashed to the floor in front of Octavia. She stepped over the mess as she continued listening.

 She could hear the vehement arguments form her parents as she walked into the spacious kitchen.

 There was her mother, Queen Stella in a white dress with the top part of her outfit a light pink. A crown was on her head and light gray feathers fanned from her head like long hair.

 “I can’t believe you slept with an imp, in our fucking bed!”

 “It was unexpected!” Stolas replied. “I didn’t have time to go to a motel!”

 Stella seethed in disgust. “A motel?! Like a fucking plebian?!” (Roman word for commoner)

 “You want to fuck this one too?!”

 In a fury, she grabbed a small white dressed imp butler and tossed him at her husband.

 Stolas flinched, holding up his hands. “No! Of course not!”

 Stella pointed a finger at him. “You are a god damn embarrassment! I’m not spending another moment looking at your pathetic, imp-sucking face!”

 Stella stormed out of the room, tossing and breaking more of Stolas’ beloved plants as she yelled.

 Stolas sighed in exasperation before turning to look at his sulking daughter who was sitting at a table with a box of cereal.

 “Good morning, Octavia!” he greeted. “Did you sleep well, my owlet?”

 “Was that a serious question?” she deadpanned as she drank coffee from a mug.

 “Mm-hmm…” Stolas began as he walked to an old fashioned white refrigerator with the royal crest on it. He opened the door and took out a slab of zebra meat on a plate. In a corner shelf was a can of soda and a cartoon of chocolate milk. In a zip-lock bag were three white dead mice for a later snack. (They are owls after all!)

 “What’s that you’re listening to?” he asked, with a snap of his fingers.

 “This song is called “My World Is Burning Down Around Me.” It’s by Fuck You Dad. It’s a band.”

 “Oh…how charming…” Stolas chuckled bemusedly. He shut the door and fed the meat to a large white potted plant in a small alcove off the kitchen as he pet it. The satisfied plant closed its three eyes. A starry calendar hung on a nearby wall.

 “So…you two done screaming for the day?” Octavia asked.

 “Um…” Stolas began as Stella let out another scream of anger along with a crash.

 Stolas walked over to Octavia, who had a box of Robo Fizz’s Greed Seed cereal next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know what I haven’t done in a long, long time? I haven’t taken you to your favorite place in all of Hell! Why don’t we go to Loo-Loo Land?” He mentioned to a portrait of Stolas, Stella and a happy child Octavia in a dress at an apple theme park.

 “I’m not five anymore.”

 “You always were so happy when I took you to Loo-Loo Land! What do you say we go there again, have a day, just the two of us!”

 “I’d rather kill myself,” she deadpanned.

 “There we go!” Stolas beamed, bypassing her comment. “Anything but staying in this house.” He lifted a finger. “Now, I’ll arrange our security.”

 He picked up a white rotary phone carried on a platter by the battered imp servant.

 “Security for a theme park?”

 “We are rich, and we’re hot. People want our money and our bodies!”

 “Our money, maybe,” Octavia said under her breath. Stolas rotated the dial a few times.

 “Speak for yourself, Princess. Now, I’m calling the only man who can fuck me!”

 Octavia looked with disgust, cereal falling from her hand. “What?”

 “Who can protect me! Us. Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know.” The imp collapsed.

 Octavia groaned and pulled her hat down over her eyes.

 At the I.M.P. office, there was a picture of Blitzo wrapped in a towel with the words “#1 bitch” on it, with the word “boss” in red over the letters. A paper crown rested on one corner of the picture frame.

 Blitzo played with crude representations of Moxxie and Millie made of office supplies. “Millie” was made from a stick and clips while “Moxxie” was made from an eraser.

 “Oh, Blitzo, you’re such a good boss!” Blitzo impersonated Millie. “Yeah, I really want you sir,” he impersonated Moxxie. “Me too!” he said as Millie. “Let’s three-way!” he said as himself before lowering the office puppets to his crotch. The screaming ringtone of his cell-phone interrupted his pansexual fantasy.

 “What?!” he yelled into it. He lounged in his chair, legs propped up as he drank iced coffee from a bloodstained mug. A poster with SpindleHorse on hind legs with “Wild and Free,” hung from the wall.

 “Why hello, my big-dicked Blitzy!” Stolas spoke lustfully.

 Both Blitzo and Octavia forcefully spit out their coffee.

 Blitzo spoke angrily, “What…”

 Octavia said, “The…

 Blitzo: “Fuck…”

 Octavia: “Dad?!

 “Language! Everyone!” Stolas shouted out loud before speaking into the phone. “I have a special request.”

 “Aw look,” Blitzo mentioned, “I just had a chemical peel, so you’ll have to find someone else’s face to plant that feathered ass!” He was in no mood for another intimate session.

 “It’s for my daughter.”

 A session with Stolas’ daughter? “Ah, well make sure she washes it.”

 “Oh! No! No, no, no!” Stolas cried taken aback. “I’m taking my daughter to Loo-Loo Land and I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us.”

 “We’re assassins, not bodyguards, okay? Don’t invite us to shit unless someone’s gonna die.”

 “I’ll pay you.”

 “With what?”

 “Money.”

 “Done!” Blitzo yelled in confirmation, accidentally smashing his phone against the desk. He glanced in annoyance at the shattered pieces before producing a white megaphone with a painted monster mouth on it. He put the crown on his head.

 “M and M, get in here! We’re goin’ to Loo-Loo Land!”

 Moxxie opened the door to respond. “Loo-Loo Land?” he asked in concern. An excited Millie smashed her head through the glass window of the office door. “Loo-Loo Land!” Her eyes were shining.

 “Loo-Loo Land!” Blitzo yelled excitedly through the megaphone, his long snake-like tongue flickering.

 “Shut the fuck up!” Loona yelled from another room.

      Part Two: Loo-Loo Land

Loo-Loo Land was a knockoff apple themed park located in Mammon’s Ring of Greed. The sky was blue instead of red like it was in the Ring of Pride. Indeed, there were Seven Rings in this Hell ruled by Archdemons and named after the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, Lust, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Wrath. Only sinners could dwell in the Ring of Pride; it was Lucifer’s punishment since he hated mortals. Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor and Beezelbub were the Archdemons…but Lucifer was the Ringmaster of all of them!

 A wide array of attractions spun, lit up, whirled and roared to life, some of them reaching toward the sky. There was a large Ferris wheel with a large blue star structure in the center. A star flyer swing ride spun people on swings, while a towering red roller coaster contrasted against the blue sky. A brick tower displayed an eye with pointed ears on the top of it. A white and red stripped circus tent stood between two tall pillars with red painted caramel apples on top as part of the design. Two smiling red apples wearing straw hats were the pillars that flanked the entrance. A teal sign with blinking lights around the border read “Mammon’s Loo-Loo Land” in white, the last “o” hanging lopsidedly. A cardboard cutout of Robo Fizz had an extended hand in an arch holding a welcome sign. A sign read, “Legally he have to say this,” and another sign said “Not affiliated with Lu Lu World.” Another sign read “Money please!” by a ticket booth.

 A dark gray van pulled into a parking spot and Moxxie got out. He walked with a blank expression on his face, wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses like his imp colleagues. A bold red I.M.P. decal was spray painted onto the van door. Moxxie slid open the door.

 There was the hunched black silhouette of Stolas, his four red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. He got out of the van, a happy tall owl wearing red shorts and a white Loo-Loo Land shirt. There was a brief silhouette of Octavia, her two eyes glowing violet. Octavia seethed in annoyance as she peered out through the door. Blitzo and Millie came along as well, getting up from the red seats. Stolas put on an apple hat with big eyes and excitedly mentioned for his daughter to come along. Octavia covered her face with her black hat before following.

 In a black suit and sunglasses, Blitzo strolled by Stolas with a serious expression as they walked by a booth that sold apple Loo-Loo hats. By a clock with a black crown on it that read 7:30 AM, was another booth with “Balloons Attack” on it.

 “Now remember, this is work and work only,” Blitzo reminded Stolas. “Me and my crew are not here to satisfy your perverted bird needs, alright?”

 “Hey, dad, do we have to…” Octavia complained before Blitzo cut her off.

 “Okay, yeah, hold on right there, sweetie.” He turned to Stolas, holding an accusing finger at him. “If you try fuckin’ my little ass in that park, I swear to…”

 Stolas leaned down and playfully tapped and booped Blitzo on the nose. “You are so cute when you are serious!”

 “I am literally going to be sick,” Octavia deadpanned.

 “Oh crumbs!” exclaimed Moxxie, rummaging through his small gray bag. “I knew today would be a lot! What do you need?”

 Moxxie fished around in the bag, retrieving pill bottles. “Antacids? Ibuprofen? Morphine?”

With a sharp toothed grin, Moxxie showed Octavia eight hypodermic needles with a glowing green substance in them.

 “That was figurative, old man,” Octavia replied, arms crossed before walking away.

 “Oh, right,” Moxxie chuckled sheepishly as he casually tossed the needles into a baby stroller by the cotton candy booth. A red baby imp wearing a bib with a pentagram on it stuck out his tongue and cooed as he reached playfully toward the deadly looking needles.

 “But she said it was ‘literally,’” Moxxie muttered under his breath.

 On a wall of a Plush booth were Robo Fizz posters and several taped signs that read: “Not Lu Lu World! Stop showing complaints,” “Does Lu Lu World have a sex robot? No! Stop asking!” “I would never do that to my BFF Lucifer.” “Everyone is so mean to me.”

 Millie took off her sunglasses and beamed. “Wooow! I haven’t been to this place since I was a tot!”

 An R on an “Apple Core Roll” sign fell off and squashed a poor teen imp below it. Moxxie flinched.

 “It hasn’t changed a bit! Oh! Look! It’s Big Lovely!”

 Near a gray Extermination booth with exterminator plush heads stood a blue animatronic T-Rex dinosaur wearing a shirt with a planet on it. It had yellow lopsided eyes. Three imps stood to watch it. It suddenly opened its mouth and let out a fierce roaring shriek.

 “That is…deeply upsetting,” Moxxie mentioned. Millie pulled him toward her. “Oh come on! It’s fun! You’ve never been here?”

 “No,” said Moxxie. “Theme parks always disturbed me. Especially the mascots,” he shivered.

 The park’s apple mascot suddenly appeared behind Moxxie. It was a large red apple with a big row of teeth with several holes in them. The top of the apple was green and a black top hat rested on top of the costume. The eyes were big, the black pupils shaped like Pacman symbols. The mascot also wore gloves.

 “Well hey there!” the mascot called in a goofy southern accent.

 Moxxie screamed in fright as the imps both turned around.

 “I’m Loo-Loo! Welcome to Loo-Loo Land!” said the mascot, spreading out his arms. “If y’all get hurt here, just try and sue us!” The mascot stood on an apple design on the ground as the animatronic head fell onto another imp. Stolas and Octavia stood near a carousel with monstrous looking horses and a small triceratops dinosaur. Some of the horses had bat wings, painted eyes all over and fiery shaped manes.

 Stolas’s eyes glowed with childish excitement, while Octavia stood embarrassed. “Look! Via! It’s Loo-Loo!”

 “I have a question,” Octavia stated, holding up a finger.

 The mascot leaned in close to her. “Well ask away, little girlie!” The mascot bounced around, an eyeball hanging out as he made “a-hyuk, a-hyuk a-hyuk” sounds.

 “Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off of Lucifer’s far more popular Lu Lu World?” Octavia smirked as Stolas looked at her with a pleading frown.

 The mascot paused. “No?”

 Octavia narrowed her eyes and scoffed. “This place reeks of insecure corporate shame.”

 Stolas chuckled in embarrassment before leading Octavia away. “Why don’t we go check out the rides?”

 “That chick’s creepy, huh?” the mascot asked.

 “Ah, wait till her dad tries to diddle your holes,” Blitzo deadpanned.

 “What’s that mean?”

 “Don’t talk to me!” Moxxie called in suspicion, poking a finger at him. “I know you’re a pervert under there!”

 Moxxie and Millie left. The mascot hung his body in dejection as he sighed “Yeah.”

 Moxxie and Millie headed down a pathway while a sweating Moxxie stopped to catch his breath. “You really like this place, huh?”

 “I love this place!” Millie exclaimed. “My parents would bring me and my siblings here, when they could swing it, Money-wise.” Willie and Lillie were Millie’s brother and sister and sometimes they were just as excited as she was. Unlike Blitzo’s mean father Donner and Moxxie’s parents, Millie’s parents tried to do what was best for their children while also attempting to survive.

  An imp wearing loose clothing and a baseball cap pushed a wheelbarrow full of money into a nearby toy shop. A nearby sign on a brick wall showed a Robo Fizz doll and the words, “New! Fizzy Buddy! He laughs, he sings, he swears! Tell your parents to buy me! Over 100 lovable phrases! Posable! Only 48% asbestos.”

 The two imps approach a window where apple plushies and apple shaped novelty cups with Ls on them were sold for $29.

 Moxxie mentioned, “Yeah, the prices do seem rather criminal. I mean, that much for a novelty cup you use one time?”

 “’Cause it’s Loo-loo Land!” Millie said excitedly. Blitzo walked over, slurping from a straw in a novelty cup. He wore a hat with an apple on it and two can holders and straws attached to it. Loo-Loo Land brought back memories of him and his sisters doing jokes and performing at the circus.

 “Listen to your ho’ Mox,” Blitzo said, mentioning behind him. “How ‘bout I take the first watch while you two…” he winked, “have a little fun.” Stolas held up a white shirt with an apple on it to Octavia who frowned.

 “Oh!” Millie cried. “We gotta do my favorite ride!” She picked Moxxie up and carried him as she ran.

 “Oh yeah? Whi-Which one?”

 Millie and Moxxie raced over to The Lawsuit roller coaster, the carts were red with the front displaying a green grin. The ride plunged at a sheer 90 degree drop while on fire. A lone rider hung on for dear life and screamed as the ride plunged into a tunnel in the ground. The mascot posed by a height rules sign. Later on, Moxxie threw up in a trash can as an angry vomit covered imp family glared at them. Even the red three eyed dragon from the petting zoo glared at Moxxie.

 Stolas happily carried a balloon in his hand while Octavia slouched on. They walked by a stand that read “Funnel Cakes: Eternal Suffering” with popcorn and a sausage on a fork. Blitzo snuck around like a secret agent with his sniper rifle. He appeared on a teal-green tent roof of an “Ice Cream Bugs” stand. Blitzo slid with his rifle and knocked over cups at a “Hot and Cold Drunks” stand. The imps glared at him as he toppled backwards onto the ground. A nearby blaster game was titled “Stop that Soul” and showed a frowning sun and cardboard angels in clouds with xs over their eyes. Another sign read “Hax Away.”

 Five grinning imps with knives and weapons peered out from an alleyway at Stolas, itching to kill him and steal the prince’s money. Blitzo slid along the floor, then glared at the imps, causing them to scatter away. Blitzo aimed his sniper again, near a game where imps could knock out mechanical clown’s teeth at “Teeth Off!” Stolas tilted his head upside down and stroked Blitzo’s horns from above. There was a game where one could toss balls into skulls and a ring toss with real spikes to toss them onto.

 “You know, it’s quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.”

 “Save it, bitch. I’m working.”

 Octavia rolled her eyes. “You both need to get a room.”

 “Hey!” Blitzo called. “I am not a day-hooker!”

 A nearby imp mother and her baby glared at Blitzo.

 “What? I just said I’m not one, prude!” He flipped her the bird. A nearby film sign read “Pirana.”

 Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie walked along a line of booths, one read “Muppet” and one read “Knock a Bottle.” Millie suddenly beamed and pulled Moxxie toward another vendor. A smug imp wearing a yellow hat and a red shirt spotted them.

 “Hello, hello!” he called. “Step right up and win a thing!”

 Millie’s eyes shone as she gasped and pointed upwards. “Oh, look Moxxie! A thing!”

 The “thing” was a purple stuffed animal wearing pink overalls with stripped imp horns. It had a yellow beak, an upside down cross on it and a tag with “Thing?” on it.

 Moxxie looked at her with a grin. “Oh, you like that thing?”

 “Yessss!” Millie exclaimed, drawing out the word. “I don’t know what that thing is, but I want that thing!”

 Moxxie straightened his bow tie with a smug look. “Finally something I can handle.”

 He walked up to the vendor, took out some money and handed it to the carnie. “Okay! One game, please!”

 The carnie rolled his eyes and handed Moxxie a clown-like blaster with his tail. Moxxie pulled the trigger with one eye shut and the cork projectile hit the bullseye on the cardboard smiling apple’s behind. Millie clapped in the background. Moxxie made a “ricochet” noise and blew the black powder smoke clear of the gun.

 The carnie just grinned. “Strike one, little man!”

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “But I hit it!”

 “Hmm, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy. The target, see? It didn’t go down. So yeah, no go, bro.”

 Moxxie slammed another dollar bill onto the counter, picked up the gun and fired again. He hit the bullseye but the cardboard apple stayed in place. He slapped the pistol in annoyance. “The Heaven’s wrong with this thing?!”

 The carnie smirked. “Oh man, a real shame I tell ya. Whaa, whaa!” He pretended to cry and rub his eyes.

 Moxxie hissed in anger and slapped another bill on the counter. “Another!”

 Again and again Moxxie tried to hit it, but the carnie rigged the game, not making the apples go down. Soon, the carnie was holding 600 souls of Moxxie’s money, the dollar bills had Robo Fizz on them. He rolled one bill up into a cigar and put it in his mouth.

 “Wow! Man, you’re really starting to make this sad. You know, if you suck, you suck! Guess you won’t win your honey here a prize.”

  Moxxie seethed in anger.

 “Let me try!” Millie said, taking the blaster from Moxxie. She fired it and the cork flew far off between the apples. The carnie grinned mischievously, and pressed a foot pedal, making an apple target go down.

 “Oh, look at that! Lucky shot, baby,” the carnie said. He wiggled the rolled up bill against Moxxie and dropped it. Millie laughed and clapped.

 Moxxie yelled, “Are you kidding me?! You…you…charlatan!”

 The carnie pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face. “Hey, uh get lost pipsqueak, I’m talkin’ to the lady.”

 He leaned toward her and made a purring sound, causing her to flinch back in disgust.

   Meanwhile, Stolas pulled Octavia close with a gasp, letting go of his balloon.

“Look, Via! You used to cry such tears of joy at this show!”

 Stolas mentioned to a large circus tent with promotional signs of Robo Fizz on either side. A mother imp tried to drag her crying child toward the tent.

 “Oh no…” Octavia breathed, her white pupils constricting. A flashback of when she was a young girl came back to her. She was pushed against the stage by other cheering imp children. Robo Fizz was a robotic imp jester who posed on the stage with his arms spread out. An animatronic band was behind him. A neon sign above read “Fizzarolli and Friends,” with the “R” burnt out which made it look like “Fiends.” Robo Fizz sparked and cackled, wiggling his fingers and leering over a crying Octavia. Off to the side, a scowling Blitzo was dressed in clown makeup and attending a food cart.

 Back in the present, Octavia and Blitzo muttered at the same time: “I hate that fucking clown!”

 Meanwhile, Stolas happily waved as he was being held captive in the air by the gang of imps pointing weapons at him.

 “Oh Blitzy! I need my bodyguard, please!” Stolas smiled unconcerned before another imp jumped up and put a purple cloth sack over the owl’s head. Another imp grinned and held Stolas’ wallet. One imp jumped, trying to skewer him with a pitchfork. Blitzo turned around and fired his rifle, shooting the imp in the torso. Black blood splattered against the cloth sack over Stolas’ head. The imps dropped him and quickly scattered away. Blitzo carried Stolas into the tent and set him down on a wooden bench before leaving. Octavia sat next to him, rolled her eyes and removed the blood-soaked cloth form Stolas’ head. The owl blinked, wondering where he was.

 Two spotlights merged into one on the stage and Robo Fizz flapped open the curtains. He wore a jester outfit and his horns were covered with stripped cloth and little bells hung from the ends. A happy face and sad face pin were by his shoulders along with a string of lights as a necklace. His pants were stripped and he wore gloves. His shirt had small white hearts near the bottom and his eyes glowed an eerie green.

 Six lit up arrow signs pointed to him and read: “Fizzarolli,” “Robot property of Mammon,” “Look at him go!” “Yes! Love 2 c it!” “Wow!” “He.”

 Robo Fizz held up a sign with “Lu Lu” crossed out in red with “Loo-Loo, the better one,” on it. He also briefly held out a red and gold contract signed by Mammon: “This is a statement regarding the unfair accusations that my theme park “Loo-Loo Land” is trying to profit off my friend and ruler Lucifer’s park Lu Lu World. This is false. These allegations are baseless and untrue. You are all just dicks. Fuck right off and stop saying that, alright? They are legally distinct. I checked. Signed Mammon.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey implings!” he said in his showman voice. “It’s me, the Robotic Fizzarolli! Shipped from Mammon’s factory to bring you a wonderful show celebrating Loo-Loo Land (spelled with O’s to avoid lawsuits!) Hit it!”

 Rows of spotlights lit up and he began to sing. The curtains opened and Robo Fizz’s Five Nights at Freddy’s band played. An open clown mouth served as the stage backdrop. Robo Fizz rapidly pointed at a boy imp and a girl imp and made his rounds toward Stolas and Octavia. He moved back to the stage just as Blitzo aimed his sniper at him in warning. The band played on a rising structure shaped like a cake, decorated with eyes and sharp spikes.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 An animatronic bear and a smaller rabbit meshed together played a red banjo with a pentagram on it. A lopsided dinosaur played a guitar decorated with flames. A green frog with large human teeth played the Robo Fizz head drums and a brown dog played the triangle. The two speakers on either side were shaped like weapons and had skulls on them. “Fizzarolli and Friends” sign glowed at the top.

 “Loo-Loo Land! Loo-Loo Land!

Everything is beautiful in Loo-Loo Land!

Ugly children holdin’ hands

In Loo-Loo Land!”

 Robo Fizz briefly pulled a crowd of imps into a hug before spinning around and tossing them aside. They crashed back into the stands. He hugged the animatronic dinosaur which fizzled and slapped the bear and rabbit, which squirted black ink at a nearby imp.

 He poured gasoline onto a pile of “cease and desist” papers, causing them to go up in flames.

 “Everybody’s friendly, and nobody is mean

No copyright infringement’s ever seen!”

 In an imitation of Princess Charlie, Robo Fizz then posed on top of a piano. He stood on top, hand over his heart in the spotlight.

 “I have a dream (he has a dream)

I’m here to tell (he has to tell)

About a magical fantastic place called Loo-Loo Land!”

 He spun his body around and landed in a pose with arms and legs spread out. Octavia watched with disgust and boredom.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 The show ended with a pyrotechnic display. Green flames ate up one of the curtains and Robo Fizz laughed as he did a final pose up front. Octavia leaned her head back and pounded her fist on the bench in annoyance. Stolas cheered and rapidly clapped.

 “Ohhohohoho! How delightful! Haven’t had this much fun since the last Harvest Moon Festival…” Octavia hid her face in her hat again.

 Behind Stolas, an imp armed with a wave-shaped keris sword rose from beneath the seats, ready to stab him. The imp’s head was quickly blown apart by Blitzo at the back seats.

 “Oh! My, what aim you have, Blitzy!” Stolas praised.

 “Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!” Octavia shouted in frustration.

 “Octavia!” Stolas reached out in concern as the owl teen stormed off. Stolas chased after her as Blitzo followed suit. Robo Fizz cackled as he spotted the imp dashing along.

 “Ha ha ha hoho-oh! Is that Blitzo my sensors spot up there?” He emphasized the silent “O” in his name. “I bet the kiddies are still running away from you, huh?”

He spun his head around in loops and cackled.

 “The “O” is silent now!” Blitzo stopped and yelled.

 Robo Fizz mocked him some more and did wild dance-like poses. “Uh huh! Just like your audience always was when you to-told your lazy jokes here!”

 Blitzo tossed his sunglasses aside. “I make more money killing people than you do being a cheap-ass ripoff of an overrated sell-out jester!”

 “Oh ho ho! Someone’s salty! Real or not though, people love me! Does anybody love you…”

 His face turned dark and his eyes glowed menacingly, grin stretched wide, “Blitzo?!”

 “No. But I’m really good with guns now!” Blitzo took out his sniper. “Dance, bitch!”

 Blitzo slammed a new magazine into his rifle, switched it to full-auto and opened up on Robo Fizz, who cartwheeled out of the way of the rounds. He rapidly spun like a wheel up the stairs to where Blitzo was. He coiled himself around Blitzo like a snake, before using his momentum to launch the imp out of the tent.

 “Fuck meeeee!” Blitzo yelled.

 Outside, Wally Wayford, an imp with a southern accent was selling lit torches. There were two posters of Robo Fizz, the first was “Fizzarolli and the Handy Dandies.”

The other showed Robo Fizz with handcuffs:  “Robo Fizz Personal Companion. Gives and receives. Ribbed for your pleasure. Real tentacle action. Ten speed vibration. BDSM feature. Machine Washable.”

 “Torches, I say, I say!” Wally said in a southern accent. “Get your inconvenient torches here!”

 Blitzo landed on the cart with a yell, which scattered the green torches everywhere.

 “Ow…I say ow!” Wally yelled.

 The flames lit the big top of fire. The flames rapidly spread to all corners of the park. Burning animatronics fled the tent as Robo Fizz cackled with demonic glee at the chaos.

 Back at the blaster game, Blitzo had crash landed through the roof and into the pervert carnie just in time, saving Millie.

 “Sir?” asked Moxxie, surprised.

 “Oh hey guys!” a dazed Blitzo replied. “You should probably go and uh…make sure Stolas is okay! I got some…unfinished business to take care of.”

 Blitzo stood up and drew a brown flintlock pistol and fired. Robo Fizz swayed creepily toward Blitzo, a red eye showing on his burning grinning face, green flames behind him. The impact spun Robo Fizz’s head around…but the jester was unharmed by the shot.

 “Oh what a mouth!” Blitzo exclaimed as Robo Fizz caught the bullet in his mouth and spat it out. Blitzo grimaced as Robo Fizz rolled at him again. Moxxie, Millie and Blitzo jumped out of the way as the jester hit the booth, destroying it in a large explosion. Shrapnel and several white imp head prizes flew through the air on fire. The piece of a stuffed animal hit a young imp boy on the head, leaving him unconscious. The photographer then snapped the picture of the imp family.

 “Goddammit Nathan!” the fat father yelled. “You ruined another bloody photo! Why were you even born?!”

 Stolas wandered around other booths: Aim and Fire Shoot Apple, Happy Ducking, and a bomb themed Knok Knok game. One was called Eggs in the Basket, Poison Apples sold caramel apples decorated like slimy skulls and a dunking game was called Drown the Sinner.  

 Stolas then gasped. “Octavia!”

 Octavia ran into a fun house shapes like an elongated head of Lucifer. The face was white with the blushes on the cheeks and the eyes were green and snake-like. The steps were positioned onto a long tongue and the fun house entrance was shaped like Lucifer’s fanged mouth. A top hat and an apple reading “Fun House” was at the top. Stolas followed her inside as two grinning imps held rope and weapons close behind.

 The neon interior was filled with eyes, tubes, swinging pendulums, mirrors and disembodied hands. Stolas went further into the room and looked around. A sign reading “Smile” had an arrow pointed down at a tunnel. A shadow appeared behind Stolas as a random imp jumped onto his shoulders.

 “Um, I think I’m supposed to be body-guarded right now!” Stolas said, annoyed.

The imp covered Stolas’ mouth with his shirt sleeve, but was shot in the head, falling to the ground. Moxxie and Millie appeared in the entryway, Millie had just shot the imp.

 “Ugh. That’s better,” Stolas said, brushing his sleeve. “Where is Blitzy? He’s my knight in shining armor, not you littler ones.” Even his apple hat got an annoyed expression on it.

 The imps came over to him, Millie hugging the thing stuffed animal. “He’s…uh busy.”

 “Being a fool,” said Moxxie.

 “What kind of fool?” asked Stolas.

 “The “everything is now on fire,” kind,” Moxxie replied.

 Stolas left the imps, dodging two swinging pendulums, and headed down a tunnel into an adjoining room filled with eyes on the wall. He then spotted Octavia sitting in one of four apple-themed rail cars, crying.

“Octavia…” Stolas breathed. He took off his apple hat and it fell to the floor, the goofy face now a sad face, reflecting Stolas’ emotional state.

 Stolas scooted next to Octavia, leaving a bit of space between them. “I take it you are…not having fun.”

 “I didn’t even want to come here!” Octavia protested.

 “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought you loved it here.”

 Octavia glared at her father. “When I was a kid and my parents didn’t hate each other, and my dad didn’t flirt with some weird red dickhead the entire time.”

 Both owls looked downcast.

 “I’m sorry, Via,” Stolas said. “I’m sorry for everything happening right now. I know it’s a lot but I…uh…I should have listened.”

 “I just want to go home, but home doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You ruined it.” More tears fell from Octavia’s eyes as she shook her head and wiped more away with her arm.

 “You need to understand, you mother and I…” He stroked the back of his head, nervously. “I just…I felt…she’s always been…I haven’t been” He stuttered, “…we weren’t in…” He buried his head in his hands, “I’m sorry, I-I-I don’t have the words.”

 “Are you going to run off with him? And leave me behind? Go away where I can’t find you?”

 “What? No!” He pulled her close. “No, no, never. I’d never do that. Never.” Both of them embraced in a tight hug. “I think it’s time to leave this place,” Stolas said. Octavia smiled a bit through her tears. Despite his mistakes, her father loved her dearly. It wasn’t too hard to forgive him. Stolas lifted her up into his arms and continued, “You were right. You are too old for it, anyway.” He walked through an apple shaped opening.

 Stolas carried Octavia out of the Fun House as an imp grinned manically in the space above the drop-ceiling. The imp dropped down and flicked open a switchblade behind him. Stolas immediately turned around, his red eyes glowing brightly. The frightened imp was turned to stone on the spot, then was knocked over by a pendulum.

 As dusk feel outside, the park was reduced to pandemonium. Millie tried to shoot Robo Fizz who wildly rolled around. The red dragon picked up Robo Fizz, tossed him into the air before catching him and swallowing him whole. On the dragon’s back, Moxxie gaped in terror.

 Stolas and Octavia left the park gates.

 “So, what would you like to do now?” Stolas asked.

 Octavia smiled. “Oh, can we go to Stylish Occult? They sell weird taxidermy there.”

 “Hmm,” Stolas said reluctantly, but then said “Okay.”

 Octavia let out a small laugh. “Thanks, dad. You’re okay sometimes.”

 Stolas smiled down at her, his face bright against the starry sky above. It was nice to get a compliment from her. “Thank you Via. Thank you…”

 A massive explosion rocked the park, sending green flames shooting up into the air. The I.M.P. imps hurtled through the air, screaming before all three landed in front of the owls. All three were covered with smoke.

 “Way to ruin another good thing, sir!” Moxxie strained at Blitzo.

 “Worth it!” Blitzo replied, holding up a shaking finger. “That slutty toy clown had. It. Coming!”

 Moxxie and Blitzo then fell unconscious.

  In the darkness, Valentino’s hairless black dog Queef sniffed the unconscious Millie, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her still form away…

 Helluva Boss Episode Three: Spring Broken

Part One: Verosika

 The ground-shaking rock music blared as a gray van rolled along the street at high speed. The front hood of the van was loose and rattled up and down, showing a dark opening. The front headlights looked like a dark grate with a few yellow lights at the very ends. The small license plate at the front read “IMP-666” in black letters. Two red stripes streaked across the side of the van while the bold red and white I.M.P. decal was proudly displayed on the side door.

 “I love this song!” exclaimed the leader imp, Blitzo. He was wearing his usual work outfit; a navy blue coat with red buttons and a red pin at the front. Above Blitzo hung small red and white flags. In the center was a white toy horse with a blonde mane and tail. With his hands on the wheel, Blitzo belted out the lyrics:

 “You were the little spicy…uh… demon with the bleach blonde hair Fiendin' for some semen when I caught your stare Thought it might be love but you went too far Fucked all of my friends and blew up my car

 Lit me on fire made me watch rom-coms Made a secret sex tape and showed it to my mom You were a bitch kinda generally Now I'm a wet wild stallion and I'm running free

 You stepped on my nuts and you tore me apart Slapped up my booty and tangled my farts Cut off my dick when you shattered my heart But it grew back twice as long

 MUSTANG DONG!”

 Memories of him and a former lover were already rushing back to him. The song perfectly described his previous love life and though not very pleasant, was still fun to sing to. There were many times in his life where he considered horses to be better companions than his peers. An array of endless horse names and adventures he could conjure up in his head…

 Blitzo made “horn” rocker symbols with his hands as he nodded his head to the beat. In shotgun, Loona made a face of annoyance as she glanced at her black and white cell phone in her hands. She wore her usual shorts, torn gray tank top and black strings in the shape of a downward facing pentagram below her neck. In the back of the van, Moxxie covered both ears as he sat in the long red seat. He wore his usual dark coat and red bow tie. Millie rolled down her window and smiled as the breeze blew through her wild black hair. She had on her black tank top and torn pants as well.

 Blitzo drove the van into a reserved parking lot, surrounded by graffiti-sprayed buildings. A worn white banner on one building read “Buck you Flitzo” in bold capital letters. One of the buildings was decorated with a large red eye made of glass. Bizarrely enough, there was a billboard that advertised holy water. Blitzo haphazardly drove through the lot opening. He was just about to pull into the remaining empty space to the right when a pink convertible car beat him to it.

 “Holy shit! F…” Blitzo yelled, he and Loona both fearful. Blitzo rapidly turned the wheel and the horn sounded. He slammed on the brakes and the van skidded to a stop. The pink car had a red heart with gold trim on the back and a golden border. The license plate read “SUCK-4-LIFE.” The wheels had small white hearts on the dark inside, white rims surrounding them.

 An angry Blitzo rolled his head and turned off the radio.

 Oh, you “suck for life,” do ya?!” he asked as he glared at the car. He pulled out his white megaphone and leaned out the window.

 “Listen up, you unoriginal pink cum dump!” he yelled through the megaphone. “You have three goddamn seconds to get your dick out of my parking spot…”

 A pair of tall high heels lowered to the ground. The shoes were black with pink hearts on them. The figure wore black tight pants with three pink xs on the side. She wore a black and white dress, a black star on the lower half and a large X and O over her breasts. A sparkly light pink fluffy coat covered her shoulders. Her face was dark pink and a black choker was around her neck. She had a pointed tail, little bat wings and curved pink horns with a few black stars on them. Her hair was long and pinkish white, and sunglasses with pink hearts on them obscured her eyes.

 Blitzo lowered his megaphone in shock at the sight of the familiar succubus.

 “Oh shit! Verosika?!”

 The succubus blew a bubble of pink gum before it popped.

 “Blitzo,” she greeted, arms folded. She had pronounced the “o” on purpose to annoy Blitzo.

 Blitzo glared. “I should have known you’d be here. I could smell fish for miles. Which is odd because I believe the nearest ocean is…”

 Blitzo fell out through the window, face-planting onto the ground. He quickly stood up, pointing at the ground, “…three rings down!” He was referring to the Ring of Envy where the oceanic ruler Leviathan resided.

 “And I should have known you’d be here when I heard the Amber Alerts,” Verosika retorted. She held a white and brown flask bottle in her left hand. It was decorated with a small red and white heart near the top. “I.M.P. is a scam!” and “Swear word” were painted on a nearby brick wall.

 “Oh yeah?” he asked. “I’m surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab. I can see you’re still a drunken whore, clutching onto that beelzejuice juice bottle like it’s the last cock in Hell.”

 “They let me out because I’m still famous,” Verosika bragged, flipping back her long hair dramatically, “and rehab is for sad, loser wash-ups.”

 She took a drink from her bottle and wiped her black lipstick mouth with a gloved white thumb.

 “So your sister says hi,” she smirked, implying a temporary sexual relation with Tilla or Barbie Wire.

 Blitzo stomped over toward Verosika. “Why are you parking here?” he growled. “This is the only parking spot my company has. So take your tampon race car somewhere else.”

 Verosika leaned slightly toward him. “Actually prick, it has my name on it.”

 She pointed down at their feet, where “Verosika” and a heart was spray painted in purple over the previous black “I.M.P.”

 Verosika stood up. “I’m doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building…”

 “No way,” Loona breathed as she peered from the van.

 “…and they wanted to have me come in this week to lead their team during spring break.”

 “A week?!” Blitzo exclaimed. “No, no, you are not parking here for a fucking week!”

 Verosika removed her sunglasses, revealing pink irises with yellow sclera.

 “Aw, you mad, Blitzo?” she cooed in a mocking tone. “You gonna run off, leaving someone else to pay for the hotel room, steal their car…”

 Verosika and Blitzo talked over each other, “…and run three Rings to Wrath and back and max my credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons?!”

 Blitzo stomped his foot. “God dammit whore, you will not let that go!”

 Verosika walked past him, showing a middle finger. “Choke on a sandpaper cock.”

 Loona lowered her head as she walked by. Blitzo angrily followed Verosika.

 “Hold on, you better move that pussy wagon right now or I’m gonna…”

 Blitzo froze as he heard a low growling sound behind him. Towering over him was a beefy dark gray Hellhound man. He wore a torn black jacket decorated with red spikes along the shoulders. A black tattoo of a wolf with sharp teeth and a tongue out was on his left shoulder. He had thick eyebrows, torn pointed ears, a black nose and a scar over his milky left eye. His right eye was red.

 “You’ll what?” he grunted, showing his sharp white teeth.

 Blitzo stuttered and looked around, fearfully. “Or I’ll…um…I’ll…I’ll call HR.”

 Blitzo, Verosika and the Hellhound burst into sudden laughter before they calmed down.

 “Anyway,” said Verosika, “Meet my new Hellhound, Vortex. Unlike you, he actually does his job well.”

 Vortex walked by Verosika’s side as she left. She flipped off Blitzo again before saying, “Ta ta, fuck stain.”

 “Ugh, I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that,” Blitzo muttered in annoyance.

 Just then, Loona stepped out of the van. “You know Verosika Mayday?!”

 “Huh?” Blitzo asked. Then he casually answered, “Oh yeah, her, yeah, we dated.”

 “Was it before or after she became a pop star?” Millie asked in curiosity.

 Blitzo crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

 “You dated a popstar?!” Moxxie added as he stepped out of the van.

 “Okay, why are you all acting like that’s such a shock?” Blitzo asked.

 “Hello. It’s Verosika Mayday?” Loona replied.

 “It’s you?” Millie said. Moxxie and Millie were surprised that a famous person like Verosika would consider dating someone who was perceived to be far below her league.

 Moxxie scratched his head. “I just…Is she blind? Suffering some form of brain damage?”

 “Okay look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be,” Blitzo said. “I don’t pry into your stupid personal lives.”

 Loona, Moxxie, and Millie did overlapping yells:

  “You do that all the time, sir!” yelled Moxxie.

 “Come on, you do that,” added Millie.

 “You totally do that,” Loona agreed.

 Millie grinned mischievously, her eyelids lowering. “What was sex with her like?”

 “Millie!” Moxxie yelled, taken aback.

 “What?!” Millie shrugged. “It’s a pop star! You’d wanna know what sex with Michael Crawford was like.”

 Moxxie paused in mid argument. “Touché.”

 “Okay look, let’s just drop it!” Blitzo demanded. “Millie, find a temporary spot for that truck.”

 He tossed a pair of keys to a gleeful Millie, who caught them and scampered off.

 “Okay, Loonie, Moxxie, let’s go handle this shit.”

 In the building, Loona led the way between the imps as the three stepped out of an elevator. The dark brown walls were decorated with yellow webbed cracks. I.M.P. was painted in red on an office door window. The Hellhound nervously stepped forward, hands together.

 “Did they see me? Fuck! I did my makeup shitty today!” she muttered. Blitzo stared at her with shining eyes.

 “Oh you look perfect, Loonie. Like always.”

  She flinched away from him, arms crossed as she passed by a water cooler. A look of annoyance crossed Loona’s face at Blitzo baby-talking her.

 “Oh shut up da…” Loona began before seeing a look of adoration and wide eyes on Blitzo’s face. She had almost said, “dad.”

 “Urgh!” she caught herself and shoved him aside. “…Blitzo!” She checked her face in a small hand mirror, a wolf design on it. She then bumped into a long furry arm.

 “Oh. Whoa,” she breathed. Glancing down at her was none other than Vortex. Redness crept up to her cheeks and she wagged her tail. Blitzo briefly smiled at Loona before gasping in shock. He dashed between Loona and Vortex, arms out.

 “Hi big man,” he said. “Where’s your bitch bag of an employer?”

 “She’s in her office,” said Vortex in a low voice. “There wasn’t room on the second floor so they rented one here on this one. It’s way cheaper.”

 Vortex mentioned toward a room down the hall, across from the I.M.P. office. Three neon hearts stood right above two blue double doors. A large pink “V” and a pink “M” were painted on the door windows, standing for Verosika Mayday (and Vivienne Medrando, creator of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss!)

 “Oh come on!” Blitzo yelled.

 Vortex chuckled with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry man,” he said before walking away.

 “Oh no you don’t, bitch,” Blitzo muttered.

 “Sir,” Moxxie began. “How about you let me go in and try to reason with her. I don’t really listen to what’s classified as “pop genre” music, so her status to me is…”

 Blitzo tuned out Moxxie’s rambling.

 “Moxxie,” he said, “Shut the fuck up.”

 “All righty then,” Moxxie replied, pushing open one of the blue doors and going inside. Electronic music briefly sounded from inside the room. The room had been converted into a dimly lit recording studio, with mixing consoles, effects units, microphones and separate booths. The neon pink border just under the ceiling gave it a club-like atmosphere, as did the rows of beer bottles on the counters. The silhouettes of Moxxie, Verosika and her gang of demons were visible from a large glass window.

 “Hello Miss Verosika was it?” Moxxie asked, his eyes golden and glowing. “I work for Imp and it is actually rather important for us to retain the singular parking space we were assigned because…”

 A woman succubus with a bob of hair pointed at Moxxie. “Aw, look at the little one. He’s got a wittle bow tie!” The gang snickered.

 “Please don’t condescend me, ma’am,” Moxxie replied. “I…”

 A male incubi leaned close to Moxxie. “Wanna kiss, you little guy?”

 Moxxie stepped back. “A…A kind offer, but…I’m married.”

 Verosika stepped forward as her gang surrounded Moxxie. “Hey, why don’t you send a little message from me back to your limp-dick boss?”

 Verosika and her gang hissed with sharp shadowy mouths over Moxxie. The imp screamed “Don’t touch that!” Blitzo raced over and pressed both hands on the window pane.

 “Moxxie, do not let her access any of your holes!” he cried.

 Moxxie raced back into the hall, his back against the closed doors. He was shaken and battered, with red lipstick kisses all over his face.

 “I…I gotta go lie down…now,” he stuttered as he walked away.

 Blitzo fumed, veins popping in his yellow eyes. “Oh this won’t stand!”

 He boot-kicked both doors open, gaining the attention of his ex and her crew. There were other succubi and incubi with reddish pink skin, horns, pointed tails and small bat wings. A white-haired man wore a black collar with a black upside down cross around his neck. He wore a black short sleeved shirt with a red logo that read “burn forest burn” on it. His taller male partner wore a ripped black tank top with a circled X on it. His hair was black and he had a black goatee. Two demon women partners sat together as well. The first had long dark hair and wore a fishnet top and leggings. The white-haired succubi next to her wore short revealing overalls. Verosika stood poised in the middle.

 “Alright, (censored)! That’s it!” Blitzo yelled, marching over toward Verosika. “If you’re gonna be shitty to my employees…” he pointed a finger at her, “…then I challenge you to a fucking…challenge!” He leaned his head back in frustration. “Fuck, I said that twice.”

 The woman with long dark hair chuckled. “Is this imp boy starting a demon duel?”

 “I think he is,” Verosika replied with a snicker. She bent over toward the imp. “What’s the game then, Blitzo?”

 “Every year, you STD spreaders go topside for easy pickings while spring break is a prime time for crime of all kinds!” Blitzo responded. He grinned, “So I bet…you succu-bitches can’t fuck as many people as we can off by the end of the day.” He briefly made a hand gesture of a gun.

 Verosika and her gang burst into laughter. Blitzo glared in determination. Verosika and the others stopped laughing. “Oh, you’re serious?” Verosika asked. She leaned in and spoke to Blitzo in a low whisper, “Game on, bitch.”

 Later at I.M.P. headquarters, Blitzo stood in front of an easel full of paper and a large whiteboard flanked by bat wings near the top. There was a large bar graph drawn on the board along with horse drawings. On the left hand corner, Blitzo had written, “Potential Horse Names: ‘Grape Fiesta’, ‘Paperclip’, and ‘Soap’, -32.”  Moxxie, Millie and Loona sat in their usual spiked chairs around a long table to listen.

 “Alright, shut your assholes, here’s how were gonna do this shit,” Blitzo announced.

 “First, we find a fuck ton of clients…”

 The animated childish drawings on the paper showed Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie and Loona standing together. A crowd of imps and clients surrounded them and gave them hugs and piles of money.

 “We portal up…”

 The Blitzo drawing snapped his fingers and the I.M.P. figures fell down to earth.

 “We have our fun murder time as per usual…”

 The I.M.P. figures used guns to kill the human figures around them.

 “We pile all the bodies into a big fucking canoe…”

 Drawing Blitzo tossed the dead humans into a canoe that read “S.S. Cum Gutter.”

 “We push said canoe into some water. We light it on fire to attract the sharks and eagles and maybe a goose, too. Fuck it…”

 Animated drawings of sharks, snakes, eagles and a goose ate at the bodies on fire. A large octopus sea monster snapped the boat and everything up in its mouth.

 “They come and eat the bodies, we win the bet…”

 The I.M.P. figures cheered, while the Loona one wore a party hat and blew a noisemaker.

 “We rub it in that sloppy bitch’s drunken whore ass face.”

 The Verosika drawing burst into tears on her knees as the I.M.P. figures flipped her off several times.

 “Do you have any questions?” Blitzo asked as the real meeting continued.

 “Uh yeah, why was that nonsense?” Moxxie deadpanned.

 Blitzo walked over to him. “That wasn’t a question.”

 “That wasn’t a plan,” Moxxie retorted.

 Blitzo put a hand around Moxxie. “I’m sorry, but that was a flawless presentation of what we should do, Mox. It’s not my fault you’ve got a smooth little brain upstairs.”

 “A what now?” Moxxie asked, eyebrows raised.

 “I’m calling you slow, Moxxie. God, why don’t you learn to take criticism, you talentless baby dick troll?” He pointed his finger into Moxxie’s chest several times as he spoke.

 An angry Moxxie stood up on the table. “Well why don’t you take an art class?”

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie by the collar and threw him back onto the chair. “Why don’t you see how expensive they are?!”

 Loona interrupted the argument, still holding her cell phone. “Hey, is there a way I can come with you guys this time?”

 Blitzo crossed his arms in disapproval. “Absolutely not. I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. Spring break is no place for young vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks up there who drool all over you.”

 All four characters glared into the camera, breaking the fourth wall.

 “Well, I can blend in with humans easy enough,” Loona explained. “Just let me tag along.”

 “Wait, say that again,” said Blitzo.

 “I can blend in?” Loona reiterated.

 “You have a human disguise?” Millie asked.

 “Yeah. Don’t you?”

 The three guilty imps nervously looked at each other, eyes darting from side to side.

 “You three have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time, without human disguises?!” Loona asked in disbelief.

 “Okay, new plan!” Blitzo called, rapidly scribbling on a piece of paper. He placed the paper on the easel, showing Loona surrounded by human figures with tiny hearts around them.

 “Loonie can help lure the humans to us and we’ll take care of the rest. Okay how about that?”

 “Flawless logic,” Millie smiled in agreement.

 Moxxie held up a clawed finger. “I think you’re missing the biggest issue, sir. Isn’t it crucial to have a client who demands enough kills to win this bet? We aren’t just going up to massacre.”

 Blitzo smirked in response. “I got that covered, Mox.”

 Not long after, Blitzo stuck a flyer onto a pole. It read “Spring Break Victim 50% Off!” It had a drawing of Blitzo, a dead victim and little cartoon horses.

 Blitzo strode to Moxxie. “Now, we wait.”

 Moxxie shook his head. “Sir, there is no way we are going to get enough clients by the end of the day with one poorly spelled bad grammar flyer!”

 Both Moxxie and Blitzo paused and looked over to see a line of a dozen creatures looking in curiosity at the flyer under the Pride Ring’s blood red sky. They arrived in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some of them were imps and others were sinners. There was a pink fluffy monster with black eyes, an orange fly trap plant wearing librarian glasses, a fox with thick white hair, a humanoid dog with pointed ears and a hook for a hand. Next to a teal lizard lady with dyed hair stood a tall man wearing a blue suit with a deer skull for a head. Even Travis, a gray owl demon, was there.

 Blitzo elbowed Moxxie with a smug grin before strolling over to the other demons. “Now, who’s first?”

  Part Two: At the Beach

 The beach in the human world was alive with humans from everywhere. Men, women and children happily walked around, relaxed under umbrellas, or had snacks. Several surf boards stood up in the sand by a decorated teal wall with a wavy orange design taking up the center. The crowd was positioned between a wooden dock and a makeshift stage. Two women wearing sunglasses got comfortably close and kissed each other in the shade. A muscular dark skinned man talked with a red haired woman while a blonde guy wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap shook a bottle of pills into his mouth. Above the beach lay a small row of shops. One sign read “Pawn Paradise.” One sign read “hotel” in red letters while another sign read “Sea cream” with a teal ice cream cone structure next to it. Another sign read “Pico Puncho Pizza” and another read “Dagon Juice” and had a green fish with a sailor’s cap on it.

 In the shadows under the dock, the I.M.P. crew emerged from algae covered rocks.

 “Now remember, we can’t be seen, alright?” Blitzo reminded them. “And loose shots will likely cause a panic, so Loona can help with leading targets to a better spot to off them. You got the list, Loonie?”

 Loona skimmed the list in her hands and gave it a sniff. “Got it.”

 She dropped the paper, stood up and walked into the light. A rush of swirling blue magic enveloped her before it vanished.

 Loona was now in human form. She opened her red eyes and brushed her thick light gray hair with her hands. She wore her same dark crop top and high black shorts but she now had white skin, two bars in her right ear and a partially shaved head. She had gray eye makeup on and a black choker around her neck. Her pale midriff, arms and legs were visible.

 All three imps stared in amazement.

 “Oh Loonie, look at you!” Blitzo breathed. “You look downright awful!”

 Loona glared at him.

 Blitzo wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.” He pointed ahead. “Now go fetch!”

 Loona peered in front of her with a hand over her eyebrows to help block out the light. Her target humans were outlined in red in her vision. Loona smirked and strolled over to a tall dark haired muscular man wearing sunglasses. She moved a finger toward his chest and gave him a flirtatious grin. She mentioned behind her to a private alleyway. Loona led him into the alleyway and leaned casually against the wall. The man reached out to grab her in lust but was immediately shot in the head by Blitzo spying on the roof. He gave Loona a thumbs up.

 Later on, a blonde man ran to Loona in an alleyway with a hungry lustful look on his face. He was caught in a noose by Blitzo. A random “music band” poster hung on the wall. On a rooftop, a brown haired man leaned in to kiss Loona, but Millie knocked him off the roof with a kick. The man fell into a green dumpster that Moxxie slammed shut. Loona walked with a fat man down the sidewalk and a flower pot crashed fatally into his head. Blitzo killed a woman with a knife, Millie killed a white haired woman with a spiked baseball bat, and another woman got shot in the head.

 Blitzo and the gang put the bodies in bloodstained dark trash bags, closing them. In the background, Millie happily jumped on another body.

 “That’s nine kills in the bag!” called Blitzo. “I’d like to see that waily snatch orgasm that many…”

 The imps froze when they heard a voice through a microphone. It was Verosika Mayday on stage, in her human form. Her shadowy silhouette in the clearing smoke resembled her demon form. She had blonde hair, tan skin and wore black leggings and high heels. She wore a pink skirt and a matching frilly top that revealed her right shoulder. She had a small black heart on her right cheek. The background lights were pink, giving the appearance of moving hearts. “Verosika Mayday” was on a pink banner overhead. Verosika appeared on two screens on either side of the stage, showing moving hearts of red, pink and white for the background. Six pink spotlights shone on her.

  “All right spring breakers! Are y’all ready get fucked up and make some bitching bad choices?!”

 The crowd cheered in affirmation. A white teen boy with short blonde hair tore off his shirt and yelled “Verosika!” He had her name written in pink on his bare chest.

 Verosika sang her song:

 “All aboard

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 V-time, free time, baby relax

Self-care, no hair, Brazilian wax

Hardtop succu-bus to the beach

Catch some rays while catching some D

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 Hot dog, hot bod, sausage and buns

Threesome, fivesome, having some fun

Back to my place, welcome to Hell

Sun’s out, hormones out, how does it smell?

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown”

  Verosika performed her song on stage and took a drink from her bottle. “Fuck you Blitzo” appeared on the screens as Blitzo seethed. The humans made out with others around them. The humans kissed, hugged, and gave each other anal. One dark woman succubus showed a love-struck man a popsicle with semen-like saliva on it. She grinned and threw herself onto the human male. An incubi with dark hair in human form smiled and snapped his fingers at a blonde man…his sunglasses fell off his surprised sunburned face. Several more succubi and incubi grinned and snuck up on the humans.

 Blitzo was furious. “God dammit, that bitch started her godish mating call! Now she’s gonna win all those sex maniacs. We gotta pick things up, guys! He on the list, Loonie?”

 Blitzo mentioned to a vomiting long haired blonde man in boxer shorts.

 Loona appeared distracted, not even looking at him. “Huh? Yeah I think so.” Loona was staring at a tall muscular black skinned bouncer by the stage: a human Vortex.

 “Good!” Blitzo called.

 The blonde man looked up at Blitzo in a stupor.

 “Whoa, what are you? A leprechaun? Hahaha!”

 Blitzo raised a sharp black and red ax. “Oh yeah, pretty cool, huh?”

 Blitzo smashed the man’s head open with the ax, causing blood and brains to splatter.

 “But you sure as shit ain’t gonna tell nobody.” He looked over. “All right, next one, Loonie, come on.”

 Blitzo rapidly glanced around, but Loona wasn’t where she was a moment before.

 “Where’s my baby?!” he cried in a panic. Millie pointed toward the stage. “Look!”

 Loona nervously made her way through the crowd, avoiding a French-kissing couple and tossing aside a bra that landed on her head. A squealing fanboy ran toward Verosika but Vortex punched him into the ground, head first. He dragged the teen away in the distance as Loona watched. A male incubus appeared as a white skinned human with short white hair. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at her. With a roll of her eyes, Loona landed an uppercut on his chin, causing him to fall.  

 “Now, who wants a piece of this?” Verosika called as she took one last gulp.

 She tossed her flask into the ocean, creating a small golden portal. A fish appeared, which rapidly grew in size.

 Loona walked sideways over toward Vortex.

  “Hey, you,” she tried.

 “Hey,” Vortex replied. “You’re the hound working for my boss’s freaky ex.”

 “Yeah. Sorry if that’s weird.”

 “It’s cool,” he shrugged. “Her beef ain’t mine. I’m not paid enough to care.”

 Loona laughed nervously. “Yeah. Yeah.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m Loona!”

 “Okay.” In her giddy tone he repeated, “I’m Vortex!” Both chuckled.

 “That’s hot,” Loona said with a grin. Then her face turned red and flustered. “I mean like literally you know because vortexes, you know, they give off heat. Probably.” She pointed both fingers in a snap, trying to act cool.

 Vortex chuckled lightly. “Uh, yeah. I guess. But my friends call me Tex.”

 “Oh yeah. I wish I had friends. I mean no, I mean, I don’t. I…I don’t have friends.”

 Just then, Blitzo arrived, moving himself between them.

 “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Nah man. Just having a conversation,” Vortex replied.

 Blitzo narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at him. “’Conversation’ leads to HPV!” Loona clenched her fists in frustration.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hid behind several metal beer barrels.

 “And… we lost him,” Moxxie declared. “Huh, it’s looking like it’s up to us handle this list.”

 Millie’s face shone in excitement. “Hell yeah! Team M and M, getting shit down, making the money!”

 Moxxie and Millie ran off holding hands in the sunset and killed more people. A sign read “Senpai, notice me.”

  Loona pinched her nose. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Loona said to Blitzo in concern. “You’re gonna get us all into shit.”

 “I just wanted to see what was so important that you’d be distracted from your job.”

 Loona angrily pulled Blitzo away from Vortex.

 “What, I can’t have a break?”

 Blitzo yelled at the top of his lungs. “We have a parking spot on the line!”

 “Hey dude,” Vortex mentioned as he walked over. “Why don’t you chill out?”

 Blitzo wagged a finger. “Why don’t you stay out of it?”

 He turned back to Loona.

 “Okay, this is our business.” He pointed to the ground and in his tail was a drawing of Blitzo killing a person, a horse followed by an equal sign and dollar signs. “Literally.”

 Loona clenched her fists and briefly leaned forward in anger. “Oh fuck Blitzo! Why can’t you stay out of my face for like five minutes?!”

  “Because I adopted you! And that should mean something.”

  “Oh what does it matter? You’re not my real dad! I was almost eighteen.”

 “It still counts.”

 “Well it shouldn’t. I didn’t need you then, asshole! I don’t need you now.”

 A tense silence followed. Both of them crossed their arms, their backs to each other. Both faces showed hurt expressions.

 As a young pup, Loona had been left to fend for herself by her real neglectful parents. She had lived a life of meth addiction, sex, fighting and insecurity with no real friends. Blitzo was perhaps the first person to truly care about her. He took her in as a teen and adopted her…and she had worked at I.M.P. ever since. Loona already felt bad at what she had just said. But there was no taking it back.

 She stuttered, trying to say something.

 “Uh, Blitzo…I…”

 “Enjoy your break, Loonie,” he replied. “I’m gonna go kill something.”

 Loona sighed sadly as he left.

 “Damn, girl. That was savage,” Vortex remarked sympathetically. He placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

 Loona blushed heavily, forcing a smile.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. He’ll get over it. He usually does.”

 “I’m glad you could stick up for yourself, at least,” Vortex mentioned. “Hmm. Takes guts.”

 “Thanks,” Loona smiled.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie looked to the left and right from behind the beer cans on a table. Beer can and bottles were everywhere. Moxxie ducked back behind them, watching as Millie loaded her crossbow. The two imps smiled and kissed.

 A man with a baseball cap, sunglasses and a tie-dye shirt that read “Kool” threw down a beer can. “Yeah! Party!” he yelled. The man pointed both fingers in the air and then promptly flipped the table, sending the imps flying. Moxxie landed on the ground as the beachgoers stepped back.

 “Eww!” exclaimed a red haired woman in disgust, pointing down at him. “Oh my god! It’s a fucking possum!”

 Moxxie tried to scurry off, but a man picked him up. “Oh crumbs!”

 “I got it!” called the guy with “Kool” on his shirt, holding up Moxxie in the air. A muscular blonde man held a large beer barrel. The first guy tossed Moxxie inside while the second one closed the lid. “We put him in the keg,” one of them said. The other people cheered as Moxxie was carried away. “Beer is awesome!” they cheered. While he was inside, he gulped down the beer around him. The people tossed the barrel and played catch with it before leaving it behind.

 Millie dashed from behind the beer cans, arriving at the barrel Moxxie was in. The barrel wobbled, surprising Millie. She placed her ear to it before tipping it over. Moxxie spilled out on his back with the remaining beer.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried.

 “Millie! Hi! Hey!” Moxxie slurred, rolling onto his back and looking at her upside down. “Hey, when did you get four heads? I wanna kiss ‘em!”

 He made smooching noises before Millie picked him up.

   Suddenly, a large gush of water rose up from behind them. A dark shadow passed over their faces, darkening the sky. The humans glanced up in shock. Even the demon gang and Verosika looked on in fear and surprise. A woman pointed upwards and several people ran off. A giant foot crushed a man lying on a turtle towel. Blood splattered everywhere and onto the crowd of humans. Another woman screamed and the humans ran for their lives. Blitzo was in the process of chocking a drinking man from behind, when he, too, stopped to look.

 It was a giant black Leviathan fish monster!

 The fish had large teal eyes, fins, white whiskers and dozens of blue sharp teeth. The beast let out a fierce, ear-shattering roar.

 “Oooh, fish,” Moxxie grinned stupidly in his drunken haze.

 Like a deadly vine, a long spiked tongue wrapped around Moxxie and pulled him toward the fish. Millie watched in horror as Moxxie was wrapped up above the large maw before the fish snapped its jaws shut.

 Millie got into a fighting stance. She glanced to her left and spotted a fat man drinking and wearing sunglasses. She stabbed him with a knife and tore off a piece of his towel. With her knife in her mouth, she lit the cloth on fire over a vodka bottle, creating a Molotov cocktail. Millie tossed it toward the monster, sending the fish stumbling and crashing down into the sea.

 Wasting no time, Millie swam toward the monster and cut upwards along its scaly body with her knife. Using all her strength, she pried open the monster’s mouth. Moxxie was punching the monster’s uvula, still wrapped up in the tongue.

 Millie reached for him with her hand. Moxxie reached too, then gave her a high five. Millie grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him up. She used her other hand and foot to support herself on the monster’s teeth. She pulled as hard as he could, but Moxxie wouldn’t budge.

 Just when she lost her grip, she slashed her knife across the tongue, slicing a piece off. In a roar of pain, the monster spat Moxxie out. Moxxie spread out his arms, enjoying the feeling of flying. Back on the beach, a man flinched as the tongue piece landed on the ground. Moxxie landed in Blitzo’s arms. The man cheered before Blitzo shot him with a gun. Moxxie cheered drunkenly.

  Back inside the monster’s mouth, Millie rapidly punched at the tongue, trying to get out. The monster roared in pain and anger, slashing around as Millie wrestled with it.

 “I love that woman!” Moxxie declared.

 Blitzo smirked. “Oh she totally pegs you, doesn’t she?” Indeed, Millie was dominant in the bedroom and Moxxie loved it.

 Millie leapt into the air, knife aimed downward. She fell back inside the mouth…then sliced off the fish’s head from the inside. A gush of blood flowed out from the monster before it landed with a final thud into the water. Millie walked back to shore and dropped her knife, exhausted.

 Blitzo and Moxxie cheered. “Oh yeah, way to show off, Mils!” Blitzo called.

 “Is Mox okay?” Millie panted.

 Blitzo glanced at the drunken Moxxie. “Oh yeah, he’s fine,” he casually said before dropping him onto the sand.

 Millie raced over and held Moxxie in her arms.

 Moxxie grinned at Millie with a doped expression. “This is funny. I’m soooo… drinky.”

 Millie just smiled and hugged him.

 Blitzo scowled and crossed his arms. “Okay, this is too wholesome for my liking.”

 “Blitzo!” Verosika called.

 “Oh perfect,” he said sarcastically. He turned around to the human-disguised gang of seducer demons. “That must be the whores!”

 Verosika was flanked by four succubi and an incubi disguised as humans. “That was handled rather…obvious, don’t you think?” She grinned a smug grin.

 Millie held up Verosika’s flask. “I don’t think this belonged to any of us.”

 Millie tossed the flask to Verosika who caught it with one hand. She dropped it into one of the succubus’ hands.

 “Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world,” Millie added with a grin.

 Even Moxxie laughed out loud, pointing at them. “Oh Satan! You all be so fucked!”

 Verosika briefly looked concerned, then sneered. “Yeah, well you three nasty ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises.”

 Moxxie fell to his knees and face-planted into the sand. He lifted his head up. “A human called me a possum. I am not a possum.” He face-planted again.

 Blitzo stepped forward and moved Moxxie out of the way with a foot. “You know, we could keep this little B movie scene on the down low if you agree to let us use that parking space.”

 Verosika, not wanting to get in trouble, relented with a sigh. “Fine.”

 Blitzo raised both arms in the air. “We fucking won!”

 “Fuck yeah!” Millie cheered.

 “In your face, bitch!” Blitzo taunted Verosika, who scowled.

 She glared at Blitzo one last time. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Tex!”

 Vortex stood with Loona not too far from the empty stage. “Well, guess it’s time to bounce, but hey, if you’re ever down to party, I’ll give you a ring sometime.”

 Loona smiled in excitement. “Really? I mean, Yeah. Yeah.”

 “Yeah. My girlfriend throws a ton of crazy hound parties.”

 “Nice. Can’t wait for my first one.”

 “Let’s get you some friends, girl.”

 Vortex gave her a playful punch before following Veroskia. Loona looked downcast at seeing Vortex leave and being reminded of her confrontation with Blitzo. Vortex already had a girlfriend and he wasn’t coming with her. Now she would go back to doing her usual secretary work. With Hell being “every demon for themselves,” it was hard to make true friends, especially if one was of lower class and lost in dark thoughts all the time. Loona could not deny to herself that she often felt like a lone wolf.

 Millie carried Moxxie and jumped into the portal.

 “Come on, Loonie tooney!” Blitzo called to her. “Let’s go back and park our fat fucking car in our fat fucking space!” He ran off into the portal.

 Loona followed Blitzo and fell through the portal on her back.

 Blitzo mockingly gave Verosika double middle fingers through the portal from behind her. Verosika growled in anger after noticing. She and her gang made their way up the stairs and onto the street.

 A policeman yelled, “Put your hands up, you sick deviants!”

 The gang huddled in fear as guns were trained on them. They were surrounded by police cars, a SWAT team, men on horses and a helicopter. A clown and a mime robot were also with the police.

 Verosika sighed in defeat. “Alright, sluts, get ready to suck a lot of pig dick.”

Her gang members groaned in disgust as they raised their hands in surrender.

[irelise]

the yew tree 3.3a/3.4

Erik has worked with Sebastian Shaw ever since Shaw rescued him from human experimentation when he was a boy. He is reluctantly enlisted to assist in Shaw’s newest scheme: seducing the wealthy and enigmatic Lord Xavier to claim his vast fortune. With Shaw posing as Xavier’s doctor, Erik goes undercover as Xavier’s personal manservant to convince him to fall in love with Shaw.

But Xavier has secrets of his own, and it isn’t long before Erik starts having second thoughts about the whole thing…

Featuring mysteries, hidden agendas, and a whole heap of master/servant tropes.

(the handmaiden inspired au - no canon knowledge required

part one and two now on ao3!

beginning of part 3)

Warnings for this part: Canon-typical violence and death Rating: M Word count: 2917 Notes: holy shit i’ve been so late with these updates, but the end is in sight! Next part is definitely the last, we only have two scenes left to go \o/

Shaw is waiting to spirit them away. He stands in the middle of the road, a tall dark figure idling by an automobile. Under Shaw’s watchful eye, Erik clambers into the driver’s seat while Shaw ushers Charles into the back, his voice dripping like honey as he fusses over Charles, all false solicitousness, and Erik grits his teeth and seethes quietly to himself.

The engine purrs to life under Erik’s touch and he spares a moment to admire the fine workmanship, knowing this journey may be their last moment of calm before all hell breaks loose. Before, he might not have particularly cared. Now, he takes the time to run his senses across the metal, enjoying its pleasant hum as he taps on the accelerator. The ink-dark countryside unfurls in front of him as he drives, and the journey would be perfectly tranquil if not for Shaw. In the rearview mirror, Erik can see him gathering Charles close. Shaw knows how to play the role of a doting lover; he leans in, mouth brushing against the shell of Charles’ ear as he murmurs something. Charles’ lashes flutter in response and Shaw smiles, arranging the two of them so that Charles’ head is pillowed against his shoulder, and Erik frowns at the way Charles just lets him, pliant as a little ragdoll. It isn’t long before Charles’ face goes slack with sleep, but Erik can see a small line of tension furrowing the space between his eyebrows, and he knows Charles is less at peace than he appears.

Still, nothing prepares Erik for the sudden whisper of Charles’ voice: Erik? Erik, can you hear me?

Erik’s fingers twitch violently on the steering wheel, shock flooding his mind. You’re in my head. Charles had never used his telepathy with him before. He thought Charles’ abilities would be weak from disuse, but the hint of Charles’ power brushing against his mind feels impossibly vast, deep and boundless as the sky at dusk.

Yes. Is that fine with you? We need to talk.

Of course. Perhaps he should be uneasy with a telepath rummaging around his head – certainly, he would never trust Emma in the same way – but right now, Charles’ powers are simply breathtaking.

He can feel Charles’ surprise colouring his mind, quickly followed by warm gratitude. Thank you.

Talk to me, is Shaw planning anything we need to know about?

The marriage ceremony will be carried out tonight. Afterwards… Erik can feel a chill creep through their connection, a gathering of dark clouds. He’ll consummate the marriage.

No!

Charles continues as if he had not heard the red-hot flare of denial. Within the week he’ll have secured the fortune. He plans to kill you after that, although he’s yet to work out the specifics. We were planning to fake my death so Uncle won’t have any reason to search for me; Shaw intends to stage an automobile accident. A rather explosive one, shall we say. The sort that leaves behind nothing but a corpse charred beyond identification.

Using my body, you mean. Well, it’s a sound plan. No reason we can’t turn it back around on Shaw.

Charles’ presence in his head goes pensive and thoughtful. No. No, I don’t see a reason to stage my death anymore. I can’t spend the rest of my life running from Uncle.

And Shaw?

What about him?

He needs to die, Charles, you know that.

…Yes. Yes, I know.

Erik thought he would feel triumphant at dragging the concession out of Charles, but instead he’s left strangely unsatisfied. So you’ll help me?

That was never in question. But I’m concerned about the potential fallout.

What do you mean?

Uncle’s research. I’m thinking about the best way to help our people. I think I may have a plan, but it would require me to step into the spotlight – and the last thing we need is for a bloody, brutal murder to be traced back to the two of us. If we must deal wi– if we must kill Shaw, then let’s do it in a manner that is more subtle.

I don’t care how we do it as long as we don’t leave him to walk free. What do you have in mind?

Shaw promised me something at the start of all this. A tool to escape my uncle for once and for all. Let’s see if he keeps his promise.

***

The wedding is a hurried, emotionless affair. The officiant rushes the couple through their vows, and when Shaw bends to kiss Charles, Charles merely blinks at him placidly even as Erik sees red. He calms only when Shaw steps away to sign the marriage document, especially when he feels Charles' presence slips into his head once more.

The officiant has been handsomely paid off, he won't ask any questions. Whatever Charles is feeling, it's locked tight away somewhere Erik can't reach; all he senses is a steel wall of resolve. After we're gone, he'll conveniently forget to file the marriage certificate.

Are you going to wipe all his memories of tonight?

Erik glimpses a flash of regret, then the walls rise up once more. I should, shouldn't I?

You know it has to be done. You won't cause any permanent damage, I've seen Emma Frost wipe memories all the time.

You're right, of course. I'll do what I have to. To keep us safe.

Charles' presence fades away again. The sham of a ceremony ends; Erik sees Shaw pull Charles to one side, and he strides forward just fast enough to catch the tail end of what Shaw is saying: "-not to use it so soon, hmm? We have a fun night ahead of us." Shaw’s thin lips twitch in a familiar, mocking smile, and light glints off his hand as he passes something to Charles.

"Ah, Erik!" Charles feigns surprise as he turns to face Erik, his eyes wide and blue. I have it, he says directly into Erik's head, even as he asks, "Is it time to leave already?"

"Just about, I'll go get the car ready. If you'll come with me, sir?"

"Yes, let's not delay. Sebastian?" Charles favours his newly-wed husband with a beaming smile, so brilliant and charming that Erik might have believed it if not for the lingering darkness that shadows Charles' thoughts.

Shaw, still playing the role of the perfect gentleman, offers Charles his arm with an indulgent chuckle. Charles takes it, the smile never leaving his face.

But as they walk past Erik, Charles - hesitates, a barely perceptible flinch. Certainly, Shaw doesn't notice. But Erik is attuned to Charles' moods after months spent by his side. Stick to the plan, he warns Charles, sending a pulse of reassurance even as he tries to stress the urgency of the situation.

Charles responds with a wordless brush of acknowledgement. A second later, Erik feels something small and hard pressed into his hand.

He turns away, hiding a grim smile.

***

Shaw promised me a wedding gift, you see. He doesn't want to murder me outright, but he thinks I'm not strong enough to survive the outside world. So he intends to give me a painless way out and claim the entire fortune once I'm gone.

And this gift is...?

A vial of opium, concentrated enough to kill. I'll be sorry to part with it. But Shaw is known to indulge in alcohol and opiates and the like - it won't be so strange if he accidentally imbibes too much during tonight's celebrations.

Replaying their earlier conversation in his mind, Erik stares down at the innocuous crystal vial resting in the palm of his hand. There's only a small amount of liquid inside, colourless, catching the light in a glinting prism of colours as Erik tips the vial from side to side, watching the opiate swirl around.

Strange to think that something so innocent-seeming will be the end of a mutant as powerful as Shaw.

Stranger still is the thought that he'll be the one killing Shaw, killing him with poison and treachery, this man who had raised him and called him son.

It's not too late to back out, a voice at the back of his head murmurs. Erik can't be sure if the thought belongs to himself or to Charles. Either way, he shakes his head, drawing on the bottomless reserves of his anger. Shaw had his parents killed. Shaw sold out his own kind. Vengeance, justice - they're one and the same. Erik has a duty to see this through.

He looks down at the modest spread of food in front of him. Currently, he's alone in the kitchen of one of Shaw's safehouses, still playing the part of Lord Xavier's dutiful manservant. Shaw had tasked him with preparing dinner - "Oysters, perhaps," he had said with a chuckle that almost made Erik hit him - and, more importantly, Erik is to serve their drinks. Well, dinner is as finished as it's ever going to be. He rings a bell to signal the start of the meal, bringing the appetizers out to the cozy round table where Shaw and Charles are seated. Too close, Erik thinks angrily, only for Charles to smooth calming mental fingers against him, a feeling not unlike having his hair stroked.

The main course is next, with the wine alongside. In the closed confines of the kitchen, Erik stares down at the glass of dark red liquid, rolling the crystal vial around in his hand.

Shaw made him into the man he is today.

And Charles... Charles is making him into someone better.

Erik tips the entire vial into one of the glasses. Then he carries both glasses out, setting one in front of Charles, one in front of Shaw. It feels like a goodbye.

Charles dips into his mind again, and his presence already feels so familiar that it makes Erik ache with the enormity of all he feels. It's done, he tells Charles, and Charles surrounds him in a warm blanket of reassurance and love.

Then it's almost over. I'm glad.

Don't get too comfortable yet, he might still have a trick or two up his sleeve.

It doesn't take long for Erik to be proven right. The effects of the opium start subtly at first: a yawn, a lazy blink, a flirtation trailing off into drowsy silence. Shaw keeps drinking - but not fast enough.

Erik! Charles' mental shout of alarm sends Erik grabbing all the nearest metal just as Shaw surges to his feet and slams his hands on the table in a deafening crack.

"You!" He thunders at Charles, lurching forward. "The hell did you do to me?"

The effects of the opium have made Shaw clumsy, but he's still a deadly threat - Charles had scrambled up to his feet already and is now backing away, glancing between Shaw and Erik. He lifts one hand and presses two fingers against his temple.

Then he drops his hand, eyes wide.

"Hold him, Charles," Erik snarls. There's plenty of metal orbiting him, sharp knives and heavy tools, iron banisters fashioned into deadly points to stab and pierce. He doesn't know if any of it will do any good against Shaw.

Shaw spares him a look. Fury twists his face into a snarling mask.

Then he smiles. It's a chilling, poisonous expression. "Charles," he croons, sickeningly sweet. "Have you turned my Erik against me?"

"Charles did nothing except give me the truth." Erik clenches his fist, reshaping all the metal around him into long, flowing lengths of chain. Brute force won't work against Shaw; he must keep him contained somehow...

Shaw gives him a contemptuous look, dismissing him as easily as he would swat a fly. Erik's heart leaps into his throat as Shaw advances on Charles again, menace roiling off him in waves. "Did you seduce him? Does he know what you do behind closed doors, little Lord Xavier?"

"Hold him, Charles, what are you waiting for-"

Be quiet, Erik, he's stronger than I expected. Charles' fingers go to his temple again. He stands his ground, staring Shaw down, a quiet fury in his eyes that Erik has never seen before.

But Shaw just keeps going, looming over Charles, and Erik's panic grows. “Get away from him!”

He hurls the chains forward with a jerk of his hand. They snake around Shaw’s neck and chest, a strangling noose of iron powerful enough to break bone. Erik yanks at the chains; he needs to force Shaw back, anything, anything at all to get him away from Charles…

Shaw only laughs. The air around him ripples with heat, and his skin churns nauseatingly as he absorbs the energy of Erik’s frantic attempts. “I taught you better than that,” he chides.

With nothing but a light flick of Shaw’s wrist, the chains snap. The fragments crumble to the ground and Shaw treads carelessly over them. He’s only three feet away from Charles now. Two.

Erik sees red. He doesn’t think, just hurls piece after piece of metal at Shaw, Shaw’s sick laughter ringing in his ears as all his efforts crash and break against the unmovable wall of Shaw’s body, useless, powerless.

Keep it up, Erik, it’s working, you’re distracting him–

Charles’ presence in his mind vanishes abruptly. His face is blanched of all colour, but the blue of his eyes remains stark and fierce, and he never once blinks in the face of Shaw’s advance.

But courage isn’t enough against an enemy like Shaw. Neither is brute force, Erik thinks, even as he sends the chains lashing forward again. Subtlety, that’s what he needs here, that’s what Charles had taught him; mere anger isn’t enough.

“Once we’re done here, I’ll tear down every single one of your projects,” Erik promises. He winds the chains around Shaw’s neck again and again, and when Shaw shatters them, Erik reforms them once more, implacable. “The Brotherhood will know everything you’ve done. Your memory will be a curse.”

Shaw is snarling now – his pride and greed have always been his weakness, and Erik presses his advantage.

“Mutants will flourish without you. All along, you were the one holding us back–”

“After all I’ve done for all of you – I was the one who made you–“

“You lied to me!” Erik roars, fury surging. “All my life, you’ve been using me!”

“For the greater good!” Shaw whirls around to face him, eyes blazing–

–And then his eyes go empty. He is a statue, frozen in time. Erik darts a quick glance at Charles and finds his expression drawn tight with strain. Blood is trickling down his nose, a shade of red so dark that it’s almost black. But his voice is even as he says: “Hurry, Erik. Remember the plan.”

Erik picks up the wineglass and approaches Shaw. His eyes are so dead. It’s as if he’s already a corpse already – and perhaps that’s not so far from the truth, when Shaw will never move under his own power again, will never speak another word, never tell another lie…

Vengeance should be more satisfying than this. Erik only feels numb as he prises Shaw’s jaw open and forces the rest of the poisoned wine down his throat.

Shaw collapses. His eyes are closed, his breathing shallow. Erik knows he’ll never wake again.

Then Charles crumples to the ground as well, and Erik moves before he registers what he’s doing, rushing to Charles’ side and dropping to his knees. “Charles! What’s wrong?”

Charles’ eyes are cloudy, blood still trickling down his nose, splashing his lips red. “Did it help?” He asks quietly.

“You’re not making any sense.” Erik gathers Charles into his arms, registering with dull surprise that his hands are shaking. Charles is trembling as well, swallowing convulsively, his breathing rapid and shallow. “Talk to me, Charles, what’s wrong? How can I help?”

“Did it help?” Charles repeats insistently. “Killing Shaw. Did it help?”

Erik shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. It’s impossible to think about Shaw when Charles looks worse with each passing second. Erik fumbles for his pulse, finding it dangerously weak and thready. “Forget Shaw. You’re, are you–” He grips Charles’ hand. “Fight it, Charles, whatever it is, you need to fight it.”

Charles reaches out, gently running his fingers against Erik’s cheek. “I think I’m still in his head.” His voice is soft, almost dreamy. “You were magnificent. You made him so furious at the end, he forgot about everything else. He was determined to take us down with him. He still is.”

“He won’t succeed,” Erik vows, even though he’s cold with dread. “Stay with me. Focus on my mind, not his.”

Holding tightly onto Charles’ hand, afraid to let go, Erik guides him to press the tips of his fingers against the side of Erik’s head. Stay with me, he calls to Charles again, trying to project warmth and comfort, candlelight and memories of the long hours they had spent in the study. He grasps hold of the little details: the feeling of parchment paper under his fingertips, the play of light across Charles’ hands when he gesticulates, the cadence of Charles’ voice as he argues a particularly fine point…

They stay together like that, Erik holding grimly onto Charles, an unmovable anchor as their minds bleed together, intertwining. Behind them, Shaw’s breathing gradually slows, then stops, and with his passing Charles goes still as well, peace falling over him.

(next part)

[k-drabblebabbles]

Program Me To Love You (Pt. 1)

Program Me To Love You: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 (Coming soon!)

❥ Fandom: Seventeen

❥ Pairing: Joshua x Reader

❥ Genre: Heavy angst, slight fluff (Warnings: Death)

❥ Word Count: 1,644

❥ Synopsis: It’s been five years since the passing of your first love. Can the government’s newest technology and your advanced skills of computer science and engineering bring him back?

“Almost there… Almost there… Come on…” You stared at the loading screen with wide eyes of hope and fear. The green loading bar of your lab’s computer monitor inched closer to the end. The racing of your heart increased with each passing second, and if you held your breath any longer, you would’ve passed out.

If this attempt was a success, not only would it mean the newest achievement in global technology, but it would also bring back the light that left your life. You didn’t care about the money, awards, or recognition that would come from a successful project - you only cared about what you were about to create, and what that creation can revive.

“Come on…!” The loading bar reached full capacity. For a moment, you felt your heart stop. Could it be…?

- ERROR 404: FAILED INITIATION -

Your heart dropped with the umpteenth failure message you saw since you began this project. “Of course,” You let out with a disappointed sigh, then proceeded to shut down your computer.

With a quick glance at the clock, you decided that you reached your mental and physical limits for the day. You walked around your lab to do your routine disconnections, clean-ups, and inventory checks. In the middle of your lab, a long operation table stood with a large object covered by a gray cloth on top of it. That was always your last check of the day, only because it was your hardest.

You soon approached the table, always careful of the veiny wires that connected the object underneath the cloth to multiple CPUs and charging outlets in your lab. Once you stood right next to the table, you took a deep breath and unveiled the object.

At first sight, it would look like a beautiful, sleeping boy. At second sight, with attention to the unmoving chest, it would like a fresh corpse. But with the million sights you took, especially considering the hunk of metal and wires this body was originally, you knew it was only a half-completed android. You touched the cheek, partially with the hope of touching soft, tender flesh, but mainly to check if it’s internal CPU was overheating. When all you felt was the cold cushion of faux skin, you swiftly moved your hand back to the cloth to re-cover the imitation body.

With that, you coldly turned to the exit, shut off all the lights, and made your way out.

With your lab being your basement, you didn’t need to embrace the brisk, winter air outside and instead walked up a simple flight of steps to enter your home. However, you didn’t consider it as such - you preferred to call it your temporary living quarters.

Home was hundreds of miles away. Home was a small town where your classmates were your neighbors, every adult was a friendly aunt or uncle, and every occasion was like a grand holiday. Home was where you were just a young girl with dreams of moving to a big city to become an IT specialist. Home was where you fell in love with the boy-next-door, your best friend, the person you were meant to grow old with and make fond memories to pass on to future generations.

Now… Home was the only piece of decoration in your minimalistic bedroom: a small picture frame on your bedside table. As natural as it was to breathe, your hand automatically gripped the picture frame as your body collapsed on the bed.

The picture was of a young you with a young boy, one not too different from your slumbering project downstairs, smiling on top of a picnic blanket in the middle of a park. You held the camera phone to take the picture while the boy posed with the guitar on his lap. Both your smiles reached your eyes.

You stared at the picture with a blank expression, waiting for the tears to well up. Had you already numb yourself to the pain memories brought you? As usual, you followed through with the experiment…

It was a bright, beautiful, sunny afternoon in a luscious, green park. The air smelled of fresh picnic food and light sea water. The wind carried distant chatter, children’s laughter, and light guitar strumming of the boy seated across from you.

You leaned against the tree with your knees pulled up to your chest. Your nose was buried in your sketchbook, the tip of your pencil stroking the page with precision and gentleness. Your eyes darted between the boy strumming the guitar and the sketchbook, making it your mission to capture every little detail.

“I don’t think you’re doing your computer science homework anymore.” The strumming stopped. You curiously looked up to find the boy staring at you with a raised eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I’m just taking a doodling break, that’s all,” You shrugged innocently, trying to subtly close your sketchbook.

“Uh-huh. You’ve been doodling for quite a while, let’s see what’cha got~” The boy put down his guitar and crawled closer to you, one hand reaching for your sketchbook.

“Ah!” You quickly got up and pulled your sketchbook away, then stepped back while hugging the book to your chest. “You’re going to have to catch me first, Jisoo!”

“Challenge accepted!” The boy, Jisoo, jumped onto his own two feet and proceeded to chase you as you made a run for it. You were able to maintain a good distance from him, especially as you zigzagged around different trees, but his long legs were soon able to catch up with you.

With two arms reached out, he was able to hold you in place around the waist and pick you up to spin you around. You giggled and playfully begged him to put you down. “Alright, cough it up, Picasso,” Jisoo stated in your ear, putting you down to instead rest his chin on your shoulder and hug you from behind.

“Hey~ I’ve been drawing faces properly since I was nine, you can’t hold that one ‘second-grade art contest’ nickname forever,” You complained with a light tone.

“Alright, alright… I’ll be the judge of keeping or losing that nickname,” He nuzzled your ear and hugged you tighter, then looked down at your sketchbook with hopeful and curious eyes.

“Fine… If you make fun of me, I’ll beat you up.” You jokingly threatened.

“Hmm~ I’m not scared.” You lightly bumped your shoulder with his chin, earning a soft chuckle as he firmly re-planted his chin.

You carefully opened your sketchbook as your pulse picked up its pace. You couldn’t help the nerves from streaming in as you flipped to the page you were working on.

It was a sketch of Jisoo playing his guitar, the shading alluded to the sun streaming over his angelic form. Although you were getting better at drawing realistic portraits, you didn’t really show Jisoo your recent work since you felt they weren’t good enough. When Jisoo fell silent as he observed each line and stroke, you felt like your heart was going to stop.

“You hate it, don’t you?” You mumbled, ready to close the sketchbook. Jisoo immediately stopped you.

“No, no, I love it! I just…” He looked at you with eyes filled with admiration. “I’m always surprised at how talented and amazing you are.”

“Eyy, you’re just saying that to butter me up,” You teased, your cheeks reddening.

“Maybe~ But only because I’d like to keep the drawing. With your autograph, of course,” Jisoo replied, letting go of your waist to face you properly.  

“Now you’re pushing it.”

“I’m serious! I want to frame it in my room and show it off to all my friends and family when they come over,” Jisoo declared.

“Oh my gosh, no!” The idea had your face flame up.

“Come on,” Jisoo held your shoulders and looked deeply into your eyes. “If this sketch is the way you look at me… Then I want everyone to know that I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” To further prove his sincerity, he leaned down to place a soft, affectionately sweet kiss on your lips. That was all you needed to later gently tear the page out of your sketchbook, scribble an exaggerated cursive of your name on the back, then hand it to Jisoo who proceeded to dramatically fanboy over it - all to get a laugh from you.

Little did you know as you two walked home, hand in hand, that a mandatory induction notice from the military waited on the doorstep of your beloved, guitar strumming boy-next-door…  

“Yup, there they are,” You touched your damp cheeks with a humorless chuckle. After placing the picture frame in its original position, you stood up and walked over to your dresser. Sliding open the very first drawer, you looked down at the only three contents of the drawer: a folded piece of old paper, an army tag, and a crumbled ball of another piece of paper.

You picked up the crumbled ball and army tag, briefly remembering how Jisoo’s sobbing mother hugged you as you screamed and grabbed the once pristine death notice. You angrily scrunched it up, refusing to believe anything she tried to tell you. Your shouts of disbelief were silenced only by a folded, slightly browned piece of paper that Jisoo’s father said was from your beloved’s bunk. Of course, it was your drawing - an inked version, as requested by Jisoo before he left to serve.

You now looked at the drawing, edges curled with dried tear stains. Your chest caved in with the gaping hole that felt like it only grew bigger - despite five years having passed. You returned the items inside the drawer and fell to your knees, proceeding to cry and gasp for air as painfully and brokenly as you did the day you heard Jisoo Hong was no longer in your life.

✯ CONTINUE TO NEXT PART ✯

[lubdubsworld]

Under my Skin. ( Namjoon/Oc) (Yoongi/OC)

Author’s note : i would like to apologize for the completely unoriginal titles. i clearly suck at naming my fics, smh. 

Chapter 3 

“this is weird.” I say softly, propped up against the headboard of the bed, the thin white sheets covering me up, shoulders bare and stinging a bit from the cold air. Yoongi is lying on the opposite end of the bed, leaning back on huge pillows, my camera grasped firmly between long ivory white fingers as he snaps away a few pictures. He’s shirtless, chest bare and starkly white against the sheets, bed cover hanging lazily off his sharp hip bones. He’s all smooth skin and lean muscle, skin faintly flushed and sweaty. 

After a nice dinner, we had spent the night walking across the skywalk, while i snapped off some truly spectacular photos of the Seoul skyline. I realized during the course that Yoongi was a lot like me, laidback, casual and an easy going guy. 

“You have some amazing post-coital glow thing going on, seems a shame not to record it.” He says, going back to check the pictures. I’m pretty certain at least a few of those pics have nipple-slips. I make a mental note to delete them before my roommate accidentally saw them. 

“For posterity?” I grin. 

“For posterity.” His gummy smile is blinding, displaying sparkling white teeth and the whole thing is just unfairly adorable. 

  i shake my head and fumble for the bra that’s hanging off the lamp shade and his hand shoots out, gripping my wrist. 

“Don’t. You’re pretty this way.” He protests and I tug my hand away. 

“I’m cold.” I mutter in protest and he sits up, the camera placed to the side, forgotten already. I smile as he crawls over, drawing me in till I was cradled against him. 

“I’ll warm you up.” His lips pressed briwfly against my ears and I sigh. 

“What am i even doing here? “

“Having bomb sex and playful banter? Why’re you complaining?”

“Because, you’re an idol  . This is stupid. whatever this is, it’s reckless and dangerous. ” I shake my head. 

“It’s too soon to think that far , come on. It’s just... you’re really pretty and you’re intelligent. And I love Photography and honeslty it’s like all my favorite things in a girl and I feel like letting you get away would be like, the worst mistake of my life.”

“That’s oddly creepy but very sweet.” I laugh, burrowing closer to the warmth of his body. 

“Tell me more about you. Where’s home?” He says curiously and i hesitate. 

“Busan...” I say softly. 

“When did you come to Seoul?” he asks. 

“When I was fifteen. I got a scholarship to the School of Performing Arts. And then after High School, another Scholarship to the Seoul university. i got into the photography department three years ago. I’m in my final year. Working on my thesis and hopefully I’ll land a nice job by the time i get out...”

“Parents?” He lightly stroked back my hair. 

“Dead.” I say shortly. 

He doesn’t reply, just hums. 

“SO how did this happen? How does a photographer suddenly start taking fancams.” 

“Beats having to work in a supermarket. “ I say drily. “ Mostly because it pays and i get some experience too. i mean, i know I can’t actively build a portfolio on what I do, it’s all copyrighted stuff after all but, I’ve learned a lot. Lightings, angles how to make the subject look good. It’s a learning process.I don’t see it as anything different from one of the classes I take in college and i work just as hard. ” 

“Am I too?” He says curiously. 

“Are you what?”

“A course you’re taking and working hard at? ” He grins. 

“Something like that....You’re just... an interesting elective that i’ve taken up for fun.” 

He laughs at that. i hesitate a bit before turning over. 

“What about you?” 

“I came here when I was eighteen. No scholarship though. Came on my own bucks. Ended up sleeping on the pavement some nights but.. yeah, was worth it at the end I guess.” 

I swallow. 

“you should be pretty fucking proud of what you got done.” i say firmly. 

He shrugs

“It’s just luck, most of it. The right people at the right time. Mostly it’s about grabbing on to opportunities when they come around. “

“And the right people.” He adds. “ I’m nothing without my bandmates. I’d die for them. Especially Joon ah and Hoseok... ”  

I swallow. 

 Didn’t yoongi hyung pay you yet? You know you aren’t special right? 

“ Do you do this with a lot of girls?” i hate myself the moment the words were out. 

“Take them to bed? Sometimes. Take them to an expensive  hotel ? I’ve done it once or twice before.... Tell them about my life story and take naked pictures of... no. You’re the first. ” 

I feel worse. 

“Then why-”

“You’re honest. True to yourself. You know there’s a distinct lack of genuine people in the world. I like people who act the same with everyone. And i feel like you’re one of those people. “ 

I didn’t reply and he pulls me closer. 

“Besides, I think you’re good at what you do. I spoke to my PDnim ... you can give me your portfolio and maybe the next photoshoot you can sit in. If they like your work they’ll hire you as an assistant. At least it’ll be experience you can put on your resume. Don’t waste your time chasing idols. That’s not something a girl with your talent should be doing... ” He says seriously and i go still.

“what?” i stiffen , pulling away.

“ It’s just an opprtunity. i’m giving you an opprtunity. Don’t overthink it. “ His voice is awkward and a little annoyed and i try to still my pounding heart. 

In the end, it’s not really an option. i’m not an idiot. An opportunity like that is invaluable.  I promise to send him my portfolio and he agrees to call me once he talks to his boss. 

“I’m busy the next few months. Our Comeback is next month. October 12... I’ll get you free passes for the stage, if you promise to come without your camera.” 

I laugh. 

“i get passes anyway. and sorry , i don’t go  anywhere  without my camera” 

~~~~~~~~

“ I need just 100 dollars! What fucking use is a scholarship if you can’t give your old man , 100 dollars?” My father is gripping the edge of the couch with blue veined fingers, the inside of his wrist and elbows littered with needle marks and he has that feverish look in his face that i’ve come to associate with hurled abuses, broken glasses and bruises that couldn’t be hidden with make-up. 

“i didn’t get paid yet. I still don’t have a job, you know that.” I grit out impatiently. My landlord hates me. She’s in her early thirties and she once tried to make me sneak her into the backstage of a BTS concert because she ‘ wanted to find Jung kook. Aside from the fact that Jung kook is a baby( barely legal) my neighbour was beyond creepy. I’d yelled at her to stop being a pervert and to find someone her own age. 

In return, anytime my father came around to visit, the stupid woman let him into my apartment. 

“You’re shitting me. Gimme that stupid camera then, if you’re not making money off it. I’ll at least sell that piece of crap and buy myself some stash.” 

I clench my fists. This was tiring. I had classes in an hour. i grab my purse and get the money i got for my last assignment. i count it out carefully, keeping just twenty dollars for the food this week. There was a GOT7 comeback and an ASTRO stage as well. They would pay less but maybe if i took on a couple more (  but you have two papers to turn it, fuck..) I’d be able to make rent this month. 

 “ i have forty dollars. That’s all i have. Take it and leave.” I snap, grabbing the cash and thrusting it in his face. 

My father stares at me with a seedy look in his eyes. 

“I’ll be back for the rest , later this week.” He says, snatching the money out of my hands and stalking out. 

I watch him leave and sigh, dropping my head into my hands. 

There went six hours of shivering in the cold and making Min Yoongi look good. 

~~~~~~~~~

The next three weeks were a frantic mess of shows and concerts, lots of bruises from being jostled in crowds , finishing two papers and finally finding a muse from the fashion department to pose for my piece on Extravagance. Now all i had was my final paper to turn in and i would be done for this semester. The last semester would be my finalk thesis presentation and ?I would be done with college. 

And honestly, it was the thought of getting it over with, that kept me going. i was busy all day and Min Yoongi almost completely slipped out of my mind ( except when i occasionally felt too stressed out and took that snow globe out of the closet and stared at it . i couldn’t help it, because that trip to Florence had been one of the best times in my life. ) 

As October came around with  rainfall and winds, my boss told me that i would have to go for the BTS comeback stage at M! Countdown. He’d managed to get a special press pass for me and I was beyond flattered that he’d actually given me and actual journalitsic work. This wasn’t just recording. i could get pictures backstage for the offical article. This was actually something i could put on my resume. 

I quickly, nod, grinning ear to ear when he drops the bombshell. 

“ You’ll be focusing on Namjoon, this time.” 

i freeze in place. 

“what?”

“Kim Namjoon. He’s the leader. He’s the one our journalist will be interviewing backstage. JJ will ask the questions and you’ll just have to take a few snaps. it’s easy work. “ 

“The fancam..”

“That too. Because you’ll be busy backstage, i’ve asked other kids to cover the fancams. You can just watch the concert. No need to film. “ 

I nod wordlessly. 

I was screwed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kim Namjoon still hates me. 

That much is obvious, as i stand to a corner of the stage, clutching my camera while JJ took notes next to me. The screaming is unbelievable and as the rest of them do their soundcheck, I try to ignore the way Namjoon keeps tossing glances at me. Yoongi gives me one subtle wink and a small pouty kiss that send the fans into a frenzy and ignores me completely afterwards. Or So I assume. i’m too busy trying not to spontaneously combust from the heat of Namjoon’s gaze. 

In the seductive lighting , with his perfect make up and insanely well fit clothes he looks like something straight out of a Grimm’s brother’s fairytale. A wayward prince . I can’t believe how utterly sinful their attire is, expensive jackets and in Namjoon’s case, a poet shirt with a firm black waist band and ruffled lace in the front. His hair is off his forehead and his legs look like they’re a few miles long at least. His pants are skin tight and tailored to perfectly fit his thighs and his calf muscles and honestly, there’s nothing more disconcerting than the way his dimples keep peeking out at sudden intervals. 

I’ve never been happier about not filming. My brain is turning to mush. 

But as the first strains of the music start, i can’t help turning my camera on, simply because i felt naked without it. It’s easier, safer to look at him from behind the lens of my trusty friend. I grip it harder and it’s better , through the lens he’s just another subject. Someone to record. 

focus. Lighting. Angles. Posture. Learning Process.

Except the only thing i could learn was that his legs were too long, his waist so mouth-wateringly lean and everytime his palm moved over his waist and caressed his crotch, I felt like dying. 

But really, why were they grabbing their crotch?!

 the worst part was, Namjoon kept glancing at me, and each time he did , i felt my throat constrict. He moved sharply and i realized that he wasn’t even a bad dancer. He was just too tall and too.. manly . Namjoon would look so much better in a suit in a board room , gripping a glass of scotch and playing God. 

The choreo was brutal , and by the time they were done with all three songs, the boys ( men really ) wwere sweaty and tired. Me on the other hand, I was completely zoned out. My breath came in stark pants and it felt like there was cotton wool in my lungs and I felt disgusted, my shirt sticking to my skin and the hair at my nape dripping with sweat. 

i feel saturated with feelings of inadequacy, like i’m doing something wrong and it feels a bit like I’m going to overflow, like all these miserable feelings are going to spill out of me and make a mess on the dirty floor . I choke on air as I grip JJ’s sleeve, letting her lead me to the backstage door. 

“Hello. Nice to meet you, Rapmon ssi..” JJ shakes hands and bows and I just stand there, too stunned to react. 

But he does it for me. 

“Hello, Ae Rin.” He says, voice low and polite and so respectful, not at all the rough angry tone I’d heard the last time. He sounds amazing. Whisky smooth and attractive. 

 My name. How did he know my name?

“ So about this comeback..”Jj began her questions and I pulled the camera up, trying to get the right angle. The first two clicks are easy. And then he glances at me and my mind comes undone like a ball of wool in the hands of a kitten. I stare stupidly , wondering how his stare was all it took to unravel me. What the hell’s happening? 

i drop my gaze to the camera and review the pictures, frowning when I notice the smudged lipstick in the pics. I look back up and it’s there , on the corner of his lips.

“You’ve got...” I stop, picking at my own lips to try and tell him that his gloss was smudged, except all the gesture did was draw his gaze to my lips and the way he stares at my mouth... it’s not good. 

“Fix it..!! Come Here!” Jj hisses and pushes me in his direction and I stumble forward, stunned. Did I really have to ..

I slowly get down on my knees in front of him and my throat is parched. 

He stretches out, offering his face to my touch and I feel cross eyed, staring at him as my thumb presses against the plush softness of his lips. I swallow, audibly, loudly and his gaze slips to my throat, and I wipe at the smudge, once and then twice. When I do it again, in a trance, his tongue sneaks out, without any warning, tip brushing against my finger and I yank my hand back in shock. It’s enough to almost send me sprawling and his hand shoots out , fast, gripping my wrist firmly. He pulls me back up and I topple over, my palm landing on his thigh and my fingers curling on the lean muscle of his leg without conscious thought. 

“I’m sorry about the last time. i was out of line.” His words catch me off guard and i feel like I’m sinking and the sensation is so foreign and unexpected. His thigh feels firm beneath my fingers and his grip on my wrist is hot and firm and oddly grounding.  I wonder what it would be like to have those long , firm fingers on other parts of me and a whimper bubbles out before i can smother it. 

Namjoon looks even better upclose and there’s something unreadable in the way he looks at me. His gaze is heavy and fond, affectionate and curious and almost sad. I feel like i’m drowning and I have to tamp down the urge to press my palms against his face and slot my lips over his. To climb on his lap and just kiss him senseless. 

But he’s sitting with JJ and I’m kneeling on the floor in front of him, the camera forgotten, my hands on his thighs and this is not how this is supposed to go at all.

“I.. it’s.. fine. I’ll just go.” I stumble back and stand up. 

My legs feel weak, my heart feels battered and my mind is still on stand by. I go through the rest of the interview like a zombie, my brain complete mush. When he finally leaves, JJ gives me a look that is part disbelief, part annoyance. 

“God, why didn’t you tell him you had a crush on him?! i mean could you be more obvious...” 

I shut her out, my mind running in circles. 

I didn’t have a crush on him. I was sleeping 9 or had slept 0 with his best friend. 

I didn’t. 

I  couldn’t. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE : Oh wow, this just took me back to college when i had this super huge crush on an older guy.i would literally start tapdancing when i saw him, hahaha... Thank fully he never knew...  kekekeke... 

What do you guys think? 

[yuki-d-raizel-blog]

Hero

Chapter 7/??

Relationship: Todoroki Shouto x Reader (Your/Name), (Full/Name)

Summit: It all begin at the Sports Festival when Shouto’s other half met Endevour by mistake. The student never thought to see his partner fight against his father just to show him that he is wrong. It started from that instant, Shouto’s new path started exactly from that moment thanks to his friends and his beloved one.

---

Shouto went to look for his girlfriend, she was too late just for buy some drinks. While he walks down the corridor, All Might runs toward him. The half-hot half-cold student doesn’t want to see him right now, but he guesses that something happened if he is running like a crazy man with that face.

<<Young Todoroki, I found you!>> the hero stops with a pose and joins his hands together, <<Would you come to the infirmary please? Or maybe you are busy at the moment?>>

“He was looking for me?” <<The infirmary? Why?>>

<<(Y/N) got hurt and asked for you. She was saying about some beverages->> the student runs as fast as possible, <<What- Wait for me, young Todoroki!>>

 ---

The heroine, Recovery Girl is treating your wounds on your hands while scolding you. This old woman is alike to your grandma.

<<You certainly swear a lot if you lose your composure.>> Midoriya is there with you holding your bag, he got caught when All Might was pushing you away from Endevour, <<It was a bit surprising.>>

<<Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.>> the girl sighs and drops her head, <<People are scared by my quirk, so I try my best to not bring that side of me out, but I guess I failed this time. Please don’t say anything to Shouto->>

<<Say what?>> your boyfriend is panting and certainly has the worst timing ever, <<What did you do?>> he walks in and sees your bandaged hands, <<(Y/N), answer me.>> All Might walks in too and stands next to his pupil, while the heroine is staring at the young couple.

<<I’ve said bad words…>>

<<What? Explain it better, please.>> his voice isn’t angry at all, he’s just worried and you can see it inside his mismatched eyes.

<<Let’s say that I cursed a lot when I fell down the stairs.>> your partner isn’t buying that at all, <<I was coming back and I saw Izuku. I was about to say hi to him but I didn’t see the stairs very well and... I fell.>>

<<Eh? You were worried that I could hear your curses? I’m not a kid and it was helpless since you got hurt. It was a natural reaction.>> he makes a relief sigh, <<Is it that bad?>>

<<Since I used my quirk on her before, her body can’t resist the last game if I do that again, so I’ve put some stitches on her palms. She’s under some relaxing drugs to reduce the pain now.>> the old woman explains, <<Do you feel like you can go through the last challenge?>>

<<Yes ma’am.>> you get up and Shouto stands by your side ready to catch you if anything happens.

<<Are you sure, young (Y/N)?>> now All Might speaks, <<If you don’t feel it, Recovery Girl can write something down to->>

<<I’m really fine All Might-sensei, thank you so much for your concern.>> she bows and when raises her head, she feels dizzy, so she lays a shoulder on Shouto’s arm, <<Guess I moved too fast…>>

<<Don’t force yourself, you can stay here more.>> the little heroine is so gentle with you.

<<With all due respect, I would like to rest on a different room.>> she looks a bit pale, <<I don’t like hospital scents. I’m really thankful for your help sensei, but I must refuse your kind offer.>>

<<I wasn’t forcing you, sweetheart.>> the lady smiles, <<You can go.>> after a little bow, the girl walks towards the door, while All Might waits for her, <<Ah, Todoroki-kun.>>

<<Yes ma’am?>> the boy is listening carefully.

<<If you see something that don’t convince you, bring her back here, ok? Maybe the meds are too strong for her body. I leave her under your safekeeping.>>

<<Yes. Thank you for your hard work.>> he bows deeply to show his gratitude and leaves with his beloved one, following All Might that leads the way in a safe room to relax a little.

When they’re about to sit, Mic’s voices recall everyone inside the arena.

 ---

After ten minutes, corridors are full of students who are walking to the stage. While Mic explains the new program, he interrupts himself to stare a group of cheerleaders… They are the female students of the A Section… What?

(All right, everyone! Let’s have fun competing with the recreational games for the one who cannot make to the final stage! When that’s over, the 16 from the four winner teams that made it to the final round, will duke it out tournament style, one-on-one! Midnight, go on baby!)

<<Now, let’s lots to determine the bracket! When the bracket is determined, we’ll have the recreation games and then start!>> the woman takes the lead quickly, <<The finalists can choose whether or not to participate in the recreation. I’m sure some of you want to rest or save your strength.>> now she walks near the edge to let the students draw a number, <<Now, from the first place team->>

<<Um… Excuse me!>> one finalist raises his hand and wait the permission to talk.

It’s your classmate Ojiro, who with a regretful face, announces his will to withdraw. Everyone is shocked, why he is throwing such a big opportunity to get noticed? He explains his problem with a sad voice, his classmates are trying to change his mind, but he doesn’t want to participate due to pride issues. After him, a few students from the other sections are expressing the same will.

(This is an unusual turn of events… The scheme of the tournament is drastically changed.) Mic speaks and now Aizawa say something better.

(We’ll have to see what the chief umpire, Midnight, has to say about this…)

<<The audience will decide!>> she hits the ground with the whip and asks to show the new scheme if those requests would get accepted, <<As you see, the fourth rounds will be almost erased, the fortunate one who will get in, will fight only a match and he/she will be automatically on the final one. For the other vacant places, we allow the same amount of students from the fifth team to fill them. The final match will be a fight with the stronger three fighters. How about this?>> after a few seconds of silence, the crowd shouts the approval and the heroine accepts the withdrawals.

“She decided that based on her tastes…!” the others who remain are the same person right now.

(Ok buddies, this is the bracket based on the results of the drawing!) a huge screen shows it, (What?! (Y/N) is in the fourth round? So this mean if she wins, we can see her fight against two strong guys! Lucky! I like that girl, what about you, mummy hero?)

(Stop being stupid and do your job...)

“All Might, Midoriya and Recovery Girl covered me thankfully, Shouto would be so angry if he knows that I met his father and argued with him. If it wasn’t for All Might-sensei, I think I could kill that piece of shit right away. Even when I was with Recovery Girl, my muscles were so tense that she couldn’t make her job with the needle, so she gave me the relaxing meds but I don’t feel their effect at all. It would take just a little to bring back by rage- No, no I can’t do that. I could kill someone if I don’t regulate my quirk and more importantly, I must lead Shouto away from this stupid path, I need to be his light in this darkness. Stay strong (Y/N)!”

“It’ll be sooner than I expected…” Shouto is holding your body with an arm just to be sure that you don’t force yourself too much, but his mind is focused on one name, “If he has something that is similar to the number one hero, then I have one more reason to win this festival. Come, Midoriya. I’ll defeat you with this hand!”

(All right! Let’s leave the tournament aside for a momentary interlude! Let’s have fun with the recreation!) fireworks open the game but not everyone participates to it.

Midoriya and Ojiro are talking about All Might’s successor’s opponent, the girls are cheering for the classmates, Bakugou is on a room by himself to focus, while you and Shouto are in another room to relax. He sits on the couch while you are sleeping on his lap. After the funny recreation activities are done, 15 minutes are spent to create a ring where the students will fight against each other. When the pro hero Cementos gives the ok, Mic speaks loud as always to fired up the arena.

(Thanks buddy! Guys, are you ready?! A lot’s happened, but it’s now come to this! A serious battle where you can only depend on yourself! The first participants, stand ready in the corridors please!!)

---Continue...

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 21.5, 22, 22.5, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, Last Chapter

[the-lady-ren]

Hello, hello

Hello my friend!Thank you so much for your patience in waiting for this. WOW. I loved writing this for you. Before receiving your prompt, I never even really thought much on Kitty’s origin. But here we are! I hope you find this as interesting to read as I did to write.

Again. Thank you so much for this fun prompt. Shoot me a line and let me know how you like the outcome. 💜

Back when the cathedral still stood, curled in his strong arms, you ask Kylo one day how he came to be. Kylo has mentioned from time to time that he is the only one of his kind that he is aware of. He always remembers living in the cathedral, fending for himself since he was about ten years of human age. While he can’t recall specifically how he got there, he has some ideas, but he has never delved too deeply into his past.

Sighing heavily, Kylo unwinds his body from yours in the warm, nestlike bed. You sit up, watching as he moves through the shadows, drawing a warm scarf around his neck. It’s always a bit drafty in the cathedral, especially deep within where his room is, and he’s always wearing a scarf of some sort and wraps you in them as well whenever you come visit. After moving some boxes aside, Kylo finds what he is looking for. A battered and patched suitcase, the handle worn. Lifting it with a grimace he brings it over to the bed and turns the combination locks with his broad thumb, clicking the latches open.

“This is all I have,” he explains, lifting out folders and tattered Manila envelopes. “I don’t know much about where I came from, and I think that it was purposeful that I forgot. Maybe to protect me, maybe to protect them, I’m not sure.” Opening one of the large yellow envelopes, he thumbs through the papers within and hands you a thick file folder, the pages faded with age. “This should answer at least some of your questions,” he says, his tone apprehensive and sad.

As you flick through the pages, you realize that these represent the years long documentation of some sort of experiment. The terms are unfamiliar to you, but you learned enough in high school and college science classes to grasp at least some of it. Genetic engineering, selective hybridization, all of these terms with calculations, diagrams and observation reports.

Kylo rakes his hand through his hair, flattening his ears briefly as he paces the room, his tail flicking sharply, nervously behind him. “There were more before me,” his voice is soft and full of untold sorrow, “but I was the only one to survive past infancy.”

Coming back towards the bed he lowers himself down and sits next to you as you scan over the documents. He reaches into the suitcase and pulls out an envelope. This one is full of pictures. As he flips through them, he puts certain ones aside. “These came out of order somehow,” he murmurs, his voice irritated. Your eyes stare, wide with wonder at what he’s sharing with you. Handing you a stack of photographs, you go through them, staring at each one individually.

In one, a group of people in white lab coats, wide, proud grins on their faces as they hold up a Petri dish of unknown contents. Kylo points a long index finger at them and explains, “Their specialty was mammalian hybridization. Uh…cross breeding, through manipulation of DNA, different kinds of mammals. Not hard with non-human species. There are hybrids that live among us all the time. But crossing that barrier…introducing animal DNA into a human embryo,” he pauses, swallowing and clearing his throat, “that’s a whole different subject,” Taking the stack of photographs from you, he places the top one at the back of the stack, bringing the next one to the front. This one shows an odd series of scientific instruments, different tanks and tubing.

“From what I can gather,” he says, “these were the incubation chambers for the hybrid embryos. Modeled to replicate a womb and an amniotic sac as much as possible, once the embryos were deemed viable, they would be placed here for development. Closely monitored. Many didn’t make it past the first few days here…” Brushing his hair out of his eyes again, you look up at him, the solemn expression on his face, his brow coming together in his obvious discomfort and lingering sadness. Feeling a pang in your chest you wrap your arms around him in a quick hug. He smiles, a thin, tight smile, and turns your attention back towards the photos.

Spreading them out on the bed in a sort of chronological order, he goes through each one. Most of them are for documentation purposes only, just showing the labs, instruments and unrecognizable information on a computer screen. “Ah, here,” he says, handing one to you. In the photo you see a tall, smiling man, his labcoat pristine. In his arms he holds a plump baby, but not just any baby. This baby is very obviously Kylo. Tiny cat ears stand up from his round head, his black hair plastered low against his baby scalp. His eyes are different, though a lay person wouldn’t see it right away, and draped over the man’s arm is a long, black tail. The baby is chewing on something, as babies do.

“This is me, I guess,” Kylo says. He points out other pictures of himself, showing his growth and development over time. The same man is in every picture with him, whether it’s a more formal pose for the official record or something candid, watching him stalk a tiny toy mouse, interacting with non hybrid kittens or playing with blocks and toy cars like a normal child. “I can’t say I was mistreated,” he tells you, “at least from what I can tell. Again, these pictures serve as the only memories I have. I don’t recall these specific moments, that specific man. Just a vague sense of…observation, an overwhelming curiosity. He seems…"Kylo pauses again, gathering his thoughts before moving on, "kind?” Again he sighs, his broad shoulders slumping as he scans his mind for anything, even a shred of a real, concrete memory. You’re in awe of him, all this information he’s sharing with you. The trust he has in you is overwhelming.

“Here,” he says, taking the folder of documents from your hands. You’d been clutching it, your palms damp with sweat and your heart pounding in your chest as you listen to him explain these things to you. He flips to the back of the folder, pulling free the last few yellowed pages. “These pages mark the end of the experiment,” Kylo lays the pages on his thick thigh, his index finger scanning the words, pointing to the sentences he wants you to read. Your eyes follow his finger, reading the cramped, sloppy handwriting of a scientist. They explain that the lab is to be closed, these are really the final days of the experiment. Funding has been pulled, redirected to something more “worthwhile”. The last few sentences demonstrate an attachment, unexpected certainly, but there nonetheless, as the scientist in charge of the lab struggles with what to do with the subject.

“And as we conclude what can only be described as a more than successful hybridization, what to do with Kylo? Any remaining embryos have been destroyed, the incubation tanks broken down, drained and packed away. But still Kylo remains, playing in his room, reading books and daydreaming like any relatively normal human male. I cannot take him home. How would I explain it to Lydia, how could we keep him safe when he was scheduled for euthanization? Could I take him to a hospital or to Child Protective Services? Absolutely not. He would be ostracized and brought somewhere that he would be experimented on. There are enough DNA markers to connect him to me, to this lab and this corporation. No, I am too connected to him to take him home. I have to find a place where he will be safe. I have given him the knowledge and the tools to make a life for himself, now it is time to put those tools to good use. I had hoped for just a little more time…he is still so young.”

Here it cuts off, the fading signature of whoever this person was scrawled below, illegibly. Your eyes fill with tears realizing that he was supposed to be killed. This living, breathing man sitting next to you could have been “put to sleep” like so many unwanted animals. The kindness of this unknown scientist prevented that. Throwing your arms around Kylo, you hug him tight, your face buried in his chest, struggling to control your tears. “Did you ever want to find him?” You murmur, your voice muffled by his shirt.

Kylo shakes his head, “No, ” he answers, “there is too much risk involved. Not only for him, but for myself. Who knows what could happen were I to reach out. That he saved my life, brought me here,” he sweeps his arm in a grand gesture, drawing your attention around the room. “As far as I remember, a lot of this stuff was here. There was food here, books and tools to begin to grow my own. I may not remember where I came from, but I remember what I learned. With the books and tools left for me, I was able to grow food, reconnect the electricity, make sure the water was safe and clean…” he shrugs again, “and now with you,” he swings his arm around your shoulder, pressing his full lips against your temple, “I have everything I could have ever wanted.” You nuzzle against him, smiling softly. Sliding slowly away from him and off the bed, you begin gathering the papers and photographs, placing them back into the envelopes and folders and back into the battered suitcase.

“Thank you,” your voice rings out softly in the cozy room that Kylo has made his own. He raises his yellow eyes to meet yours, a crooked smile on his handsome face. “I mean it. Thank you. I…I don’t know why you trust me like this, you could have lied, told me you fell from space and I would have believed you. The risk you face…” Kylo places his large hands on your hips and pulls you towards him, burying his face in your middle and sighing with relief.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” he says, lifting his gaze to meet yours, “In such a short time, you have not only accepted me and what I am wholeheartedly, but you’ve made me trust another living being in a way I didn’t think I was capable of.” He raises himself onto his knees, wrapping his arms around you again, holding you close, making you feel safe. “You are my home,” he says, “and you are the closest thing to family I have ever had.” A single tear rolls down your cheek as you crush your lips against his, sealing a silent promise that you are more than happy to make.

[adapted-batteries]

You Sultry Land Pirates Ruined My Dig! Chapter 3

Fandom: The Librarians

Rating: General Audiences/sfw

Ships: a little bit Jazekiel, little bit Jassandra, and some Cassekiel in a bit

In a world where Cassandra and Ezekiel are top tier land pirates, and Stone is an expert in archeology and history but new to being out in the field, there is a weird, impenetrable tomb in some Sumerian ruins, with things that don’t quite make sense.

Inspired by the lovely story line (and outfits) in episode 3x09 “And the Fatal Separation” where Cassandra and Ezekiel smuggle Stone, Baird, and Flynn in while they pose as land pirates.

Posted on my Ao3 here.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

---

After a break (which turned into a mini nap, a common way she recovered), Cassandra went back to work, with Ezekiel’s watchful eye on her every move. With the start she made for herself, she was able to construct a few phrases using the Sumerian letters and the Hebrew YHWH.

“We have no clue of knowing those people’s attitude to the Hebrew god, and throughout the time later it fluctuated from indifference to hatred. With that in mind I’ve gotten some not so nice phrases, and some better phrases we can try,” Cassandra concluded, zipping up her boots. They decided their darkest outfits would be best for sneaking, which also happened to be their sexy land pirate outfits at the moment as their last job ruined their full on black outfits (they both learned fire is not fun when it is on your body).

“Great. I don’t know what type of reset the door has, but that won’t be too hard to figure out,” Ezekiel said as he sorted tools into a small bag. Not knowing what they’d encounter tonight, he was bringing everything he had. “When you read the sentences, read it in map grid style ‘cos I don’t know the letters like you do.”

“Can do. You got all you need?” she asked picking up her own bag, with a couple things in it.

“Yeah, I hope.” He put his bag on his back and looked at her, grinning. “Let’s go rob a tomb.”

They arrived at the dig an hour after midnight, to ensure everyone was either gone or asleep. It was quiet, only the rustling of some canvas as a light wind blew through, carrying chill night air. There were no lights on in any of the tents, nor anyone about at 1 am. For the most part they skirted the tents to prevent as much chance of being seen as possible.

Cassandra led them through the dig by memory, trying to avoid any flashlight use until they were well below the surface. Thankfully they hadn’t done any major excavations after the two had left; within a couple minutes they arrived at the bottom of the mansion, squinting through the dark at the door.

“Hold a light up for me,” Ezekiel whispered, getting a closer look at the door. She did as requested, shining the modified flashlight at him, providing dim but useable light.

“Ok, I’ll give you coordinates, you press. Let me know if anything happens,” Cassandra said, remembering the phrases she had picked. “Ready?”

“Go for it,” he answered, standing beside the door so he didn’t block the light.

“Let’s see how well they stuck to Southern Sumerian syntax,” she breathed. “Ok, B  two, B four, A two-”

“Hold it, after A two, something clicked on the other side differently from when I pressed the first two, probably a reset. So the first two symbols must have been right,” Ezekiel hissed, lifting his head from where he was pressed against the wall to listen.

Cassandra swiped one hand in the air, carefully controlling her movements as if it would keep her from overloading. “Ok, hmm...I can modify the phrase I think...yeah that may work. Ok so B two, B four, D one-”

Ezekiel cut her off again. “Same thing. Next.”

“Um...ah ok, B two, B four, C one,” she paused, assuming he’d cut her off again.

“Didn’t reset. Keep going,” he whispered.

“D three, D five, E one-”

“That reset,” Ezekiel cut in again.

“That’s ok, The besides the E one symbol, that was a whole word. Now I can get rid of those phrases,” she thought out loud, swiping at the air more. “Ok it has to be one of these three phrases, because the others wouldn’t make sense.”

“Three’s a nice number from four hundred fifty,” he chimed, trying to encourage her.

“Well I still don’t know how long this code is. I’m hoping they stick to what I’ve compiled,” she responded.

Apparently the third phrase was the key. Something behind the stone ground and shifted, allowing Ezekiel to push the door into the chamber before it slid to the side on a track. They picked an odd phrase, Cassandra thought, even for the weird stuff they had encountered over the years. “Why would they guard a door with the phrase ‘Do not let God enter’?” She asked the musty air that poured out of the chamber.

“Who knows, maybe it was an inside joke for all we know,” Ezekiel said as he flicked on his own flashlight and looked in the room. It sloped down into the earth, steep enough they would need to watch their steps. It must have went down over twenty feet because the angled ceiling cut off his view from the bottom. “I don’t see anything so far. It’s steep, so hold on to me.”

Giving one last glance up to the lip of the pit, and thankfully seeing no one, Cassandra linked her right arm with his left. “Ok, let’s go. I don’t want to spend too long down here,” she whispered into his ear before looking down the slope.

Ezekiel led them down in a slow shuffle, stopping every few feet to examine the bricked walls and floor for any traps. However, nothing happened as they reached the bottom. The floor leveled out but there was only a few feet until another stone wall and door stopped them. Pulling away from Cassandra, he checked the door, seeing no symbols or anything suggesting it was locked. He pushed the slab to the side, with some strain, until they could both slip through the space.

The air in this narrow room was not pleasant. Something had died in here a long time ago and no air had gotten out. Both put their sleeves over their noses while Ezekiel checked for more traps. This time he found something. The ground had six-inch square tiles two feet from the doorway, different from the slope they had just descended. All of the tiles had things on them, some were symbols like the ones on the entrance, but others were shapes, hieroglyphs. “You see the floor, Cass?” he asked, flicking his flashlight from tile to tile. They didn’t have too many options per row, since there were only three tiles, but there were probably twenty rows that stretched into the room.

“Yeah, that’s a mix of stuff there. I know the symbols that match those above, but the others are images. It could be a long shot, but I think this may be a type of brain teaser. You know those pictures where if you read the drawings and words right, it says a phrase? Like the number 4 in the middle of the word ‘stance’ would be ‘for instance.’ I think it’s one of those,” she suggested, studying the floor intently. “Only problem is I don’t know for sure what those hieroglyphs mean as the people who made this thought of them.”

“There are several ways to work around a floor puzzle,” Ezekiel added. “I can try the first row and see what happens, or better yet, what doesn’t do anything, and you can go from there. It just depends on how sensitive these tiles are.” He always brought a couple heavy stones with him when he knew there was a chance for a possibly trapped tomb raid like this. He took one out of his bag and unwrapped the cloth he had it in to keep it from clanking against other metal things, looking at the tiles to pick one. “Any suggestions for a first try?”

“Um, well there’s one neo-Hebrew symbol in the first row, on the left, maybe try that?” She suggested, backing up against the wall just in case.

“Why not,” he said, gently tossing the stone onto the tile which then indented into the ground. They both froze, holding their breath for any noise, but nothing happened. “Cool, got it first try. Ok so next row,” he said, replacing the stone with his left foot, “is there anything that makes sense?”

“Well, all three could go next, but the row after has a picture which makes things different. Once I know the next, it will limit what sentences or phrases I can make,” she said.

“Ok, going for the middle then,” he decided, tossing his rock diagonally from his foot. The tile pressed down, but this time there was the sound of shifting stone in the wall on the right. A short spear whizzed in front of Ezekiel at high speed, going into a hole on the other side. Another grinding sound happened, and another spear flew by, this time from the left wall. He crouched and grabbed the rock, halting the spear trap. “Ok, not the middle.”

“Try the left one then,” she suggested, calculating what phrases could come from that path. He complied, dropping the stone in front of him. The tile depressed, triggering nothing. “Ok good. Now there’s two main ways this could go. It could have the hieroglyph, though I’m not sure if it’s supposed to represent a man running from a snakes or running into water...neither really make sense.”

“I can always work through with the rock method,” he suggested.

“It could be a metaphorical meaning, or partial, like the emphasis of running to something-”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” a voice boomed behind Cassandra. She squeaked and jumped instinctively to her right, away from the voice without knocking Ezekiel over. Ezekiel aimed his flashlight at the intruder, revealing Dr. Stone. He was furious, face going red. “You sultry land pirates ruined my dig! In the middle of the night no less! Of course you weren’t antiques dealers, not the legit ones anyway.” He mumbled the last part to himself, but not low enough they couldn’t hear it.

“Hey! We happen to be very good at what we do,” Ezekiel retorted, failing to restrain himself.

With the element of surprise, Dr. Stone leaped at Ezekiel, locking an arm around his neck to drag him off the tiles. He quickly put Ezekiel in between himself and Cassandra, preventing her from firing the taser she was about to use. “Now, before you try anything, I can and will knock your buddy out,” he growled. Ezekiel sputtered and squirmed as Dr. Stone’s grip was none too delicate, which apparently amused the archaeologist. “I’ve been in too many bar fights to let your little scrawny ass get away, son.”

“Let him go, or I’ll-” Cassandra started, but Dr. Stone wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

“Or you’ll what? Hmm?” he pressed, trying to overpower her. When she didn’t respond, he chuckled bitterly. “That’s what I thought. You know, I’ve got no reason to keep your friend awake,” he decided, tightening his headlock. Ezekiel coughed, trying to kick out against the wall to unbalance Dr. Stone, but he was planted.

“No! Don’t-” Cassandra reached towards them, but somehow Dr. Stone managed to knock out Ezekiel in seconds before she could do anything. She tried to math her way out, try to see if she could get both herself and Ezekiel out of this, but her brain grape decided it had enough use for one day, making her head hurt and the ground suddenly wobble.

Instinctively, Dr. Stone dropped Ezekiel to the side and caught her before she tumbled onto the tiles. “You could’ve made a mess there,” he said, pulling her arms behind her back to restrain her, but not as rough as he could’ve.

“No...spears, would’ve missed me, ow,” she sucked in a breath in pain, squinting her eyes shut until it passed.

“Normally I’d not help the folks breaking into my site, but I’m feeling a little generous,” he mumbled, setting her down on the ground. He then went back over to Ezekiel and rummaged through his bag, finding what he wanted: rope. He bound Ezekiel first, then used the rest to tie her arms and legs to restrict most of her movement so she couldn’t run. “I can carry him, but I can’t carry you both, and I’d rather keep him unconscious.”

Cassandra figured her best bet was to comply until Ezekiel was awake; it’d be hard to somehow drag him out of camp once she managed to untie herself. So she followed behind him, attached to Ezekiel who he was fireman-carrying back to camp. No one else was up in the camp; she thought about making a ruckus but there wouldn’t be any point.

Dr. Stone’s tent was half the size of the artifact tent, enough room for a cot, a chair, a foldable table with papers and books on it, and space to walk between them. For lack of space, he put Ezekiel on the cot, and motioned for Cassandra to sit in the chair, leaving them tethered together. He had turned on a small lamp so they could see.

“Now, I should be furious with you both, but we’ve been stuck on that door for a week, and you cracked it within a day. How?” He asked, anger still in his voice, but less than it had been before.

“I’m sure if you had the resources we did, you would have had it open just as quickly,” she responded, not making eye contact with him. Thankfully she could concern herself with watching Ezekiel breathe slowly.

He noticed her concern, it painted her face. “He’ll be fine. Maybe a sour headache in the morning, but he’ll live. Cutting off the artery knocks someone out quicker than the airway,” he explained. She looked at him like she wanted to take his head off, but he kept going. “Why this life? With skills like that you be the top of your specialty in academia.”

“I didn’t get a choice. And he’s not cut out for the academic life, too stationary for him,” she responded, glancing at Ezekiel again before looking back to Dr. Stone. He stared at her for a few moments, thinking about something.

“What if I don’t turn you two in, if you help me get to the end of that tomb?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. “And you can’t take whatever ends up being in there either, obviously it’s going to a museum for further study.”

At the mention of museum, Ezekiel moaned, mumbling incoherently, before going quiet again. Dr. Stone looked over at the still-unconscious thief on his bed, confused, before looking back to her. She shrugged, as if it was something he did often.

“How do I know you won’t turn us in?” Cassandra asked, already planning away in her head.

“Once I get to whatever’s at the end of all that, I could care less where you two end up running off to. It could very well be the find of the decade,” he clarified, quite obviously thinking about the fame he was going to get in the archeology world.

She looked back over to Ezekiel, knowing he’d hate her in the morning, but love her again when they got to the end of this mess. “We’ll do it. And I’ll keep him in line, don’t worry,” she said. He watched her for a few moments, studying her face.

“Much appreciated,” he responded, dripping with sarcasm.

Though she was tired, she was still curious why Dr. Stone suddenly surprised them. “How did you know we were down there?”

“Actually, I didn’t know until I saw the door was open, and didn’t know it was you two until I found you,” he chuckled at himself before continuing. “I couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking about the door, and then I had an idea so I was going to go try it out. Did the code have to do with Yahweh?”

She looked at him wide-eyed, silently thanking Ezekiel for their ability to research so quickly. “Uh, actually, yes. They guarded the door with ‘Do not let God enter.’’

Dr. Stone looked confused, gears going in his head with that information. He then looked at the watch on his wrist, pushing a button that made the display glow for a few seconds. “Well there’s still four hours till sunrise, and I don’t intend on doing a dungeon crawl on no sleep. I suggest you mimic your friend there and get some rest too. Don’t want you goin’ down on a trap like you about did tonight.” He sat down on the ground at the foot of the cot, leaning against the frame and the blanket that had been bunched up from putting Ezekiel down. The folding chair wasn’t going to be comfortable, but Cassandra had been in worse situations than this. A poor night’s sleep was a worthy sacrifice for whatever was in that tomb.

---

Ch 3 post notes

Some good old Librarians puzzle action for ya’ll. On the puzzles, I don’t really know what is time-appropriate as I just wrote without consulting google on it, but I think it doesn’t feel too advanced or anything.

Writing that last scene was kind of weird because I had to get Stone to not freak out so much that he’d automatically turn them in, but not seem so lax with them like they were the librarians together. Not an easy balance, but I think I managed.

One more chapter left guys, which I need to finish tonight. Tuesday is my busiest day so I will try to upload it sometime, but it may happen Wednesday.

[dawnkiwi-blog]

Fortune of A Broken Man - Chapter 3 - Avengers Fanfiction | Bucky Barnes-centric |

Word Count: 2,340

Chapters: 03/50 Status: Finished prior to publishing

Trigger warnings: Vulgarity / allusion to schizophrenia / mentions and explorations of mental illness / war and PTSD

[ could not find a good enough gif and the gif loader hates me lol bye ]

Chapter 3: Snakes

"You see that? Eyes of a killer. Stone cold and cruel," Lizbeth sighed.

An intern named Pamela stood beside her, doing her best not to quiver in fear.

"You do see it, right? The way he stares at you, just waiting.."

Pamela nodded vigorously. She stared wide eyed at Barnes who sat stock still in the center of the room on the floor. "He's so scary," she whispered.

Lizbeth barked out a laugh and clamped her hand down on the shorter woman's shoulder. Pamela is very, very short.

"I'm just fuckin' with you, love," Lizbeth giggled. "When I look at him, I actually see a very sad man. Probably a romantic. Aren't those eyes just dreamy."

Pamela wasn't sure of what to say. She leaned closer to the window, as though it could shatter if she so much as sneezed. "I... I mean, yeah, actually.."

Lizbeth's lips quirked in a smile but she didn't say a word.

Pamela continued, placing both hands on the window as she peered at him. "He's kind of got that James Dean vibe, I guess. Aw, he needs a hug."

"What he needs," Lizbeth said as she draped herself across Pam's shoulders, "Is for you to realise his eyes aren't telling you anything. They're just blue, and quite tired."

They stared at each other, amusement meeting confusion. "What...?"

Lizbeth steered her back to face Barnes, "Look," she pointed out, "The man is just sitting on the floor, staring at the mirror. There is nothing else to be said. He isn't anything but really, really fatigued. He can't even see you, this is mirrored glass," she said, tapping it, "He's just staring in our direction because logically, he's aware there's probably a bunch of prudish lab coats analyzing him right now."

"But... you said.."

"I know what I said. At first you thought he was evil, or something, and now he's your own Romeo, or maybe a frog that needs a kiss. And a shave. Nothing changed except what I said. It's all too easy to read too much into something. Pretenses kill."

Pamela blushed a deep scarlet, "Sorry," she muttered.

"Hey, it's fine. You're interning to learn, and look! Active learning!"

It had been nearly four hours since she had left Pam to colour coordinate the dossiers and categorically compile her research notes. It was completely unnecessary, of course, but it certainly made it easier for Lizbeth to decipher her own chicken-scratch.

According to the nightly recordings from JARVIS, Barnes had not slept a wink, but at least attempted to rest by taking up the cot offered to him. He had exceeded her expectations by a mile, and that bothered her more than she cared to admit.

Watching him now, it remained obvious that the man was in a deep fugue state. He would twitch every two minutes with less than a second of difference in the repetition. Every ten to fifteen minutes he would get up and wander seemingly aimlessly around the room before returning to his hunched perch on the side of the bed.

It made her restless just to watch him. Like clockwork, each calculated action resembled a man strung up like a doll in a childs play room. But it was impulsive, and reeked of fear.

Barnes had thankfully eaten Steves meal, and the cornflakes Pam had slid through the delivery slot on the door that morning. Even if she had nearly dropped the bowl in terror.

Lizbeth crinkled her nose at the memory of Steve's 'homecooked delight'. SPAM, with bonebroth soup. Smell is a powerful memory, and Lizbeth did not want to remember the heavy tang of preservatives. At least he'd taken her words seriously and gone with something Barnes would be hard-pressed to forget. She certainly wouldn't forget it any time soon.

Even now, Barnes was coiled tight like a grenade. He watched her through the mirrored glass. A wild animal calculating her intentions and tracking her habits. She stared back unflinchingly, perversely taking delight in the unease it brought him.

She had lied to Pam. Despite the mirrored glass technically obscuring them, Barnes seemed to be unhindered by it. His eyes bore into her. How he did this, Lizbeth did not know, but she'd hazard a guess it had something to do with his super serum abilities. Even the documents SHIELD had swiped from HYDRA prior to their collapse did not fully detail the extent of the super serum. Steve had kindly (re: waspishly) informed her that Barnes had been administered a bastardized version of his WW2 serum. But that really didn't tell her much.

One had to wonder, naturally, what went through his head. As far as she knew, the Ol' Doctor Strange could peer into the heads of those under his care, whether by force or permitted. Wanda, alike, could view the on-goings of his brain. Lizbeth had her own methods of examination. But if she forced her way in.. it would likely be easier to get through to the Hulk than James Barnes.

She pressed the buzzer forcefully.

"How do you feel, Mr Barnes?"

He stiffened almost painfully, eyes widening a fraction. Internally debating with himself as to whether or not to respond, he stayed mute.

"That's no fun," Lizbeth muttered. She pressed the buzzer again. "Would you like Mr Rogers to visit?"

He eyeballed her as though she'd kicked his cat.

"So much rage," she mused, "No wonder he was the perfect weapon for HYDRA."

As though doing so would bring him grevious harm, James nodded reluctantly.

"I'll have him sent up, then," she informed him, "My name is Miss Burke, by the way. Tony Stark hired me to get through to you. You know who he is, don't you?"

More silent rage.

"Well, he remembers you, Mr Barnes. Yet his morality has him showing you kindness. Like it or not, you won't come to harm here."*

He, obviously, did not believe her.

After the good Captain had responded to her summons, she had taken a seat on the leather couch. Her clipboard held sheets of crinkled paper dotted with notes, scribbles, and lewd drawings of the two men in Barnes' illustrious accommodation.

Steve had practically hurtled through the door, having apparently misunderstood JARVIS' request. He must have come from the gym, as he was dripping in sweat, and looked ready to fight a god.

Lizbeth wondered who would win a fight, Steve or Thor.

She started another graphic drawing.

Beyond the mirrored glass, Steve sat with James, trying to coax him into talking. While he had been fairly vocal yesterday, it seemed his situation had sunk in, and the man refused to even sigh.

It infuriated Steve for reasons he couldn't fathom. Lizbeth herself didn't care- she had all the time in the world, a nice salary, and access to whatever resources she wanted. She could probably kill in cold blood and have it hushed up.

"I'm telling you," Steve said, "Miss Burke is harmless."

Lizbeth snorted without looking up. Barnes looked no more convinced than she did.

"She's just a shrink Stark hired to help you. We just want you back, and in control, Buck," Steve sighed, wringing his hands. "HYDRA can't touch you here. We're actively hunting them, and their numbers have been reduced drastically. While you were in cryo in Wakanda, T'Challa signed a defense sanction with the White House. There's a North American task force scouring earth for any sign of them."

'Nice choice of words there, Steve,' Lizbeth thought, 'Specifying earth to a man who isn't aware mythology is actually history won't raise alarm bells at all.'

As if to prove her right, Barnes' eyebrow nearly floated off his face. Rogers mistakenly took this as a sign Barnes remained doubtful of his words.

"Our team has expanded, too," Steve said, nearly pleading, "It isn't just the six of us anymore. We have Wanda, Peter, Sam, Vision, and a number of SHIELD agents on board."

"Who the fuck is Peter?" Lizbeth said to herself. She ran through the faces of the Avengers and realised it was probably the Spider dude who like shooting sticky white stuff at people. She snorted, and returned to her drawing.

"Wanda is from Sokovia," Steve continued, staring at his feet. He spoke almost as if Barnes was in a coma, not sitting nary a foot away and scrutinising him. "And is an enhanced. HYDRA took her and her brother, and really did a number on them. But Wanda helped us destroy the Sokovian and Ukranian HYDRA bases during Ultron."

"Who he doesn't know," she sighed. "You're gonna give him an anxiety attack at this rate, Cap."

The hammer she had artifully sketched for Thor looked more like a popsicle.

"Peter is just a kid, but he tries his best. You remember him, right? He managed to pin you down on the hellicarrier."

Barnes frowned.

"Ah, a-and Sam is ex-military. A pararescue. You threw him off the helicarrier," Steve stuttered.

Barnes frown grew heavier.

"But, well, ah," Steve grew flustered, aware he was only making things worse, "Vision is nice. He was Tony's AI, but he stole the body Dr Cho made, before Ultron could have it."

"Jesus christ, you idiot," Lizbeth sighed, dumping her x-rated drawings and stomping over to the mirror. She stabbed the buzzer. "Steve," she cut in irritably, "Why don't you try not to give the man a stroke. You've now convinced him half the people in this building want his head on a stick."

Steve's head snapped back to glare at her. Barnes looked ready to explode. She sighed again, forgetting her finger was on the buzzer. A creepy woosh filled the air.

"Wanda is a telekinetic and telepathic enhanced who swore allegiance to the Captain. If that's worth anything to you, Mr Barnes. Peter is an idiot who is afraid of his shadow, and more specifically you, Barnes. He can't handle gore and hates HYDRA like the rest of us. Sam has forgiven you. I spoke at length with him about it, and he admits that, if he were you, he would have done the same thing. Vision is an artificially created human who put his newborn existence on the line for earth. None of these people pose a threat to you unless you are trying to harm them or their loved ones."

Silence reigned as Steve alternated between glaring at her and peering with concern at Barnes.

James himself had resumed his boring stare through the mirror. Completely at ease, Lizbeth stared back with a blank face. She wanted to shriek boo but the consequences could be mortal, so she refrained. Instead, she settled for meeting his eyes and displaying a weak sympathy on her face.

After a moment, he relaxed. Her actions indicated her honesty, and while he couldn't trust her, he could believe her.

Lizbeth knew how to lie through teeth, even better than she could breathe. Which can be hard, when one is a chronic smoker.

When Steve stepped from Barnes' room, he looked like he wanted to smack her through the wall and out into the muggy Manhattan air. She smiled breezily at him, curling her fingers in a suggestive manner.

"What are you playing at?" he spat, nearly shaking with rage.

Her eyebrows raised. "I didn't do anything, Rogers."

"Yes," he roared, uncharacteristically pissed off, "You did. You nearly f-you- what do you think that was, huh?"

She swallowed, contemplating the right answer. Truth wouldn't work in her favor, but if she lied, he'd smell it a mile off.

"I corrected you. Barnes' began to exhibit signs of an anxiety attack, which in his current state, could land one or both of you in the ICU. Given his past, the best thing for him is blunt honesty and no tip-toeing around sensitive subjects."

Steve stared at her with barely restrained something simmering in his blue eyes. She sighed and stood up, taking a step towards him. He briefly showed surprise before he closed himself off to her again. Unlike most, she casually walked towards the man who could crush her skull with two fingers as though she weren't a frail human, and he wasn't the big bad wolf. To be fair, Barnes' would probably be the wolf in this situation.

Although, frankly, Lizbeth embodied the Black Adder snake that would snap at a dogs heels.

Very slowly, giving him time to step away from her- which he didn't- Lizbeth placed a calming hand upon his forearm. "Steve," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I know I showed you up, and that wasn't my intention, but I also didn't want you to push Barnes' back into his shell and set us back a week. You didn't do anything wrong. You know your best friend better than I know my left hand, but Steve, I'm a shrink, and I'm here to help. That includes you. You can tell me how you feel- about everything, towards Barnes, Stark, even me. But don't let yourself act in a way that will give you shame latter."

Her words cut through him like he was a sponge, and it rocked his composure. She had spoken like she knew him and it frightened him.

"You're here for Bucky and it should stay that way."

She gave him a knowing look. "How about we cut today short. Could you still prepare a dinner for him?"

He nodded sharply and nearly pushed her off him as he strode away hurriedly. After the door clicked behind him, she shook her head. "Definitely feel shame in the morning."

"Oh, Mr Barnes, what have they done to you?"

A/N:

*Anybody know what I'm referring to? First person to get it can have an OC named after them.

I would like to apologise for this late update. I had to leave my previous home rather suddenly and the last few days have been me settling into a new place. I needed to edit over this and make sure a few small details line up with what happens in the coming chapters.

The next chapter will be up tomorrow. I know this is somewhat of a filler chapter but it didn't flow right to be 1 super long chappy. Sowwy.

BAI

[kathyprior4200]

Helluva Boss (Remix)

Not too far away from Pentagram City lay a shady place in the bowels of Hell. “Welcome to Imp City: est. 1981” was posted on a worn wooden sign with a white painted eye toward the top. Under a crimson sky, a wide array of buildings made up the city, some with spikes on the roofs. Downtrodden imps of various colors and sizes mulled around the streets and ghettos. Mugging, sex, drugs, poverty, and murder were common aspects of their everyday afterlives. Indeed, being considered “lesser demons” and the “lowest of the low,” not very many had opportunities granted to them.

Well, save for a unique family of imps, trying to get their business running.

 Just who were these imps?

   A nearby screen showed old fashioned numbers ticking down, 3, 2, and 1. Blitzo, a red and white faced imp, appeared on stage in front of purple open curtains. “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.” He put out his hand and the logo appeared above it. The “M” in I.M.P. looked like imp horns, black and white in color. Down below were the words “Immediate Murder Professionals.”

Blitzo spoke again. “Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?” A picture of Blitzo with a mustache and two black top hats over his horns was grinning evilly as a building burned in the background. The sign nearby read “Orphanage for elderly, blind, and newborn dogs.”

“Or are you an innocent soul who just happened to get fucked over by someone else?” The next image showed Blitzo in a white angel costume, throwing away a Styrofoam coffee cup in the garbage in an office.

In the next shot, Blitzo held up a sign which read “Some guy who hired us!” A buff horned red demon wearing a white Ohio shirt stood not too far from the camera, a 666 News billboard in the background. He punched one fist into his hand.

“After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the state of Ohio killed me. I really wish I could stick it to that yapping charter who saw me hiding the body!”

Blitzo appeared again, this time with his fellow imps Millie and Moxxie in the background. A white-clothed altar with a mirror and skulls on it was in the very back. White candles were spread around the room. The two imps were sitting at a pentagram drawn on the floor. Blitzo held a blue Satanic ritual book in his hand.

“Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…”

He waved his hand and a flaming portal appeared in the center of the room, causing Moxxie and Millie to scatter.

“…we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!” He happily fell through the portal on his back.

 Then the musical jingle started:

 “When you want somebody gone

And you don’t wanna wait too long

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals”

  “Whether grenade or cyanide

We’ll make it look like suicide

The Immediate Murder Professionals”

 “We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell…”

 “We’ll kill your husband or you wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife,

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals.

 Kids die for freeee!”

  A white person appeared with a thought bubble of his enemy with a red x. A demon fell to the floor and the person looked up. The I.M.P. logo appeared, Millie with a spear, Moxxie with a gun and Blitzo in the middle, spreading out his arms to make an “M.”

Fast paced shots flashed through the ad.

 Moxxie throwing a grenade out a window as his companions grinned.

Blitzo hanging a person in an office building while Moxxie watched. Millie held a piece of paper in her hand.

 Then more killing scenes flashed: Blitzo electrocuting a person, Millie using a mace, Moxxie choking his victim.

 Blitzo led the way through a portal to Earth, Millie and Moxxie following. Moxxie tripped on a book and landed on his face while the others posed. They then stood shocked…at the people in a church staring at them.

Millie killed a naked couple with a chainsaw while Blitzo looked greedily at a woman’s underwear.

Blitzo repeatedly stabbed someone else tied up.

The three imps used more methods to kill Earthlings: Medieval torture racks, shark attacks, fire and gasoline, pillow suffocation, crushing someone to death with a grand piano, electrocution in a lab…

 “Kids die for freeeee!” ended the ad.

 Moxxie and Millie sang a murder love song in their living room before the meeting. Moxxie played on his purple guitar as Millie watched him with love in her eyes. It reminded them of the good times when they would shot at demons together in the streets, drag a bloody sack behind them and when Millie got a grenade as a present and used it to blow up a building.

  “Oh what a thrill when the crimson starts to spill

And my Millie goes in for the kill

She takes away my breath

She’s the angel of death for me

Oh Millie

Queen, it’s like a dream

When I hear her victim start to scream

Get him out of the sack

She’s a maniac for me

Oh Millie

When the blood starts dripping down the sides

And the bodies start to fall from the skies

My heart skips a beat

When my Millie’s guns a blazing in the night

That’s in love

She makes the murdering fun for me

A lottery for all the wins of Hell

It’s for her that I fell…”

 Both of them hummed before Moxxie finished,

  “Of all the imps in Hell…

Millie joined in, “It’s for him that I fell…

“Oh Millie.” They leaned in for a kiss.

  They paused. Moxxie yelled, while looking out the window. His boss, Blitzo was pressed against the window with a video camera. “Are you fucking filming us right now?!”

Moxxie sighed, as a smiling Blitzo held up a sign which read “Meeting in 20 min: nice job banging yo’ wife!”

     Just before the meeting, the head imp, Blitzo walked into the receptionist room.

“Blitz!” called Loona, the hellhound, holding a bone shaped phone in her hand. “That clingy rich asshole’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you!” Then she added in a lower voice, “Sounds a little DTFy.” (Down to Fuck)

Blitzo spilled water on himself as he talked with Moxxie by the water cooler. “Oh god that was one time! We wouldn’t have access to the living world…if I hadn’t slept with that privileged asshole!”

“You what?” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

“Blitz!” Loona barked in outrage.

“I heard you already!” Blitzo yelled. He stomped into his office and picked up his red cell phone. He played with little bobble heads of his imp coworkers, Moxxie and Millie. Signs were tacked to the wall, reading: “The Incredible Blitzo! One night only! Tickets now at the Big Top!”

 “So…” Blitzo beamed nervously, “What can I do for you, Stolas?”

The owl overlord replied, lounging on his couch in a royal red robe and a crown.

“Remember that time when I told you that a political candidate was causing problems on Earth? That he tried to convince the world that global warming existed?”

“Yes?” Blitzo answered.

“And that it does, but more people die when nothing’s done about it? Oh, how lonely I felt.”

“That make sense,” Blitzo said.

“But now…” he hooted in laughter. “There are tons of new sinners coming down here every day! I just had a feast and a murder party several nights ago. I wondered why a horde of people arrived and it’s because of a disease called the coronavirus! My, it’s the best thing to ever happen since my wedding with my queen Melody and my darling daughter Octavia’s graduation from flight school. Oh, how marvelous!”

“Well…I’m very happy for you, sir,” Blitzo said. “I hope that…corn-ah virus does its thing.”

Stolas sighed. “My wife wasn’t happy with me, though. She said you fell onto a cake in the middle of a lunch with the queen and the royal officials. What did you say to her?”

“I said…sorry I fucked your husband.” He gulped.

A tense silence.

Blitzo examined his chest and arms. “I still have the talon scars and peck marks to prove it.”

“And she also said that you stole one of my books, is that true?”

“No! No way!” Blitzo lied, with a nervous laugh. “That was another imp long ago. Can I tell you how great it felt…sleeping with you?”

“Indeed,” Stolas agreed with a contented sigh. “Your sharp horns and claws ruffling through my feathers, and my talons and beak exploring your multicolored flesh…”

“Oh fuck a dick…” Blitzo muttered.

Stolas’ eyes grew red. “Don’t get into trouble, Blitzy. When I’m angry…or excited…which I am…I become hungry. Want to know what happens? I want to choke on your ****lick your *****, tear through your **** leave you screaming as I ***** as you scream like a fucking baby!”

Blitzo hung up the phone, the words reading “creepy mouth: aka one night stand bird dick.” and smashed it with another old phone. He threw the pieces into a blender and mixed it up.

“Here, eat this,” he told Loona who walked in and drank the red liquid.

“And you know that bridge over the freeway?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Shit off it. It’s time for the meeting, let’s go.”

   The imps currently resided in a tall office building that seemed to stand out among the other structures. Along with spikes jutting from the roof and sides, there were a pair of giant black and white imp horns attached to the sides of the building for decoration. The lights inside near the top floor were on.

Posted on a door were the words “IMP Headquarters” with “IMP Meeting in Progress” written on a piece of paper taped to the door, a smiley face off to the side.

On a white board was a bar graph and a line graph, the line graph pointing lower at a drawing of a raging horned demon. “Fix this shit!” was written in big bold letters that took up much of the board. “Blitzo is the best, by Blitzo” was scribbled off to the side. Several tall chairs with spikes jutting from the top boarders were set near a brown table in the center of the room. A white pentagram was drawn in the center of the table.

 Up front, a black, white, and red colored imp paced back and forth, sprouting long curved striped horns: Blitzo. He wore black fingerless gloves with what looked like a yellow eye design on each glove. He was dressed in a slender navy blue business suit with light red buttons. A small round pink pin with black eyes and a stitched mouth was attached onto a red undershirt below his slender chin. What looked like a black two-clawed print mark lay over his red forehead. Along with sharp teeth, the imp has red iris eyes with yellow sclera. Like a typical devil, he also had a red pointed tail. He had four red finger-shaped claws on each hand.

Blitzo began to speak, pacing back and forth. He looked toward his audience of two imps and a hellhound sitting on chairs around a table.

“All right, now I know business has been…a bit slow, lately.”

He mentioned to the board at the downward sloping line. “In fact, there seems to be less people seeking out our services; 1,056 in comparison to the 1,066 from last month. We’ve basically spiraled from the True Blue Market to that of the Raging Bull.” He pointed at the roaring demon head drawing on the board.

“Shouldn’t it be the Bull Market is good and the Bear Market is bad?” said a voice.

“Loona, nobody cares,” Blitzo said. He continued.

 “Any decrease could spell disaster for us, not to mention how lots of people use our services and yet look down on us.” Blitzo cleared his throat and spread out his hands. “Now, I’m not saying it’s, *cough* Moxxie’s or anyone’s fault…”

Moxxie raised his eyebrows. The serious imp had a red face, yellow eyes, white hair framing his face and stripped horns jutting off to the sides in slight curves. He wore a large red bow-tie and a navy blue suit. White freckles were present under his eyes.

Blitzo continued, “…but let’s discuss how we can improve. Now does anyone have any ideas on how to get business drumming up again?”

Millie, the bubbly demon raised her hand. She had a red face, messy black hair with a white flower patch near the top, and short black horns with faint white stripes. Her eyes were also yellow and she wore a black top, black torn pants, high heeled shoes and a little black choker around her neck. Her eyelashes extended past her face.

Millie waved her hand and beamed, eyes shining. “What…about…a car wash?!”

“This is Hell, Millie, no one cares about cars being clean here, okay?!”

 Just then, there came a coughing from the other room. A small cyclops demon with hot pink hair with a patch of yellow opened the door and walked in. She brushed off soot from her hot pink skirt and waved at the group, who stared in surprise.

“Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of I.M.P.?”

“Uh yes?” Blitzo replied, unsure of what to make of this random maid.

“Oh great, because one of my friends sent me here to investigate, he’s a busy chap, you know, and oh so dreamy!”

She darted around the room and began removing cobwebs from the windows. “It looks like there are two men, a woman and a dog here, a nice balance.”

Loona, the grey hellhound glared at Niffty, narrowing her red eyes. “What was that, you little shit?”

Loona had a red cell phone in her clawed paws, the back of the phone displaying a black upside down cross. She wore a grey top with black strings in the shape of an inverted pentagram. A spiked collar was around her neck. Her pants were dark and torn, with a white crescent moon on them. Her feet were bare and her hair and tail were thick with white and dark fur.

 Niffty stopped in her tracks. “Now, did you guys need any cars to be washed?”

 Blitzo shook his head. “We don’t have any cars here, we’re broke as fuck.”

Millie stared at Niffty and cupped her own cheeks with her hands. “Oh my Satan! She’s so adorable! Can we keep her?!”

“No!” Moxxie and Loona said at the same time. The two workers then glared at each other.

Moxxie crossed his arms. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Do you mind?!” He pointed to the door.

Niffty laughed nervously, “Oh okay, sorry about that, hehhehheh. I’ll be outside if you need me!”

She scurried out of the room.

 Blitzo paused for a moment, then said, “Oh right! Ideas for our company!” He waved his hands, his eyes shining. “How about a billboard?!”

Moxxie crossed his arms. “We can’t afford a billboard, sir.”

Blitzo rushed over and held Moxxie in a headlock. His voice was rushed and sarcastic, “So helpful, Moxxie, I’m really glad you’re in the room right now.” He shoved Moxxie away.

Blitzo stared in frustration. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?!”

He picked up a remote and turned on an old fashioned TV.

After static appeared on screen, the footage showed the group killing off individuals.

Blitzo bashing a red demon’s head with a mullet.

Moxxie shooting a blue person tied up to a chair.

Loona grabbing a red person in her mouth and shaking the person side to side like a wolf.

Millie beheading a blue person with a spear and laughing.

  Blitzo watched with a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a blue bowl of popcorn. Loona sat on the table, popping popcorn pieces into her mouth. Millie perched on the table, enjoying the show, but Moxxie stood off to the side with a grumpy face.

Posters hung from the walls, one showing Blitzo and his two sisters, Tilla (an imp with long black hair) and Barbie Wire (a smiling imp with ram-like horns.) It was a picture of them at a circus, the banner reading “The Amazing Imp Siblings!” Blitzo remembered the good times he had with them when they performed on stage. Barbie Wire would balance on a tightrope, holding a pole with flames on either end. Tilla tamed and evaded manticores, dragons and other beasts that were released into the arena. Blitzo would sing songs about murdering people and they would all pose and bow at the end as the crowd cheered.

That was before Blitzo moved on to form I.M.P. recruited Moxxie and Millie, and adopted Loona.

 Blitzo moved his hand toward his chest and sighed with content. “Ah, those were good times.”

Moxxie spoke up as Millie ate a piece of popcorn. “We don’t need any reminding, sir, considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week, one that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel, nobody watches!”

Blitzo turned his head, insulted. “Hey, uh, excuse me?” He stood up. “What’s “obnoxious” about a super fun jingle, all right? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spitting bullshit.” He walked across the room.

“People love musicals, sir,” Millie added.

Blitzo smiled. “Exactly, Millie, and we’re basically doing a musical.” Blitzo did jazz hands before pointing rapidly at Moxxie with a scowl.

“Are you gonna crush my musical theater dreams like my dad did?” He lowered his head.

“Sir…” Moxxie began, but his boss cut him off.

“Because right now, all I see is just my dad’s asshole talking to me, crushing my dreams of being, who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

Millie leaned in toward her husband and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Moxxie?”

“I…what?” he asked, looking at her. Millie leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, tail curling. “I thought I knew you.” Moxxie rolled his eyes; his wife loved to annoy him.

Blitzo turned back to Moxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Moxxie. And after I made you Employee of the Month.” He held a picture of Moxxie with his mouth open in a roar, snake tongue showing.

 Moxxie threw up his hands, “Okay, sir, I’m sorry, but a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theater. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

“I liked it!” Millie pipped up.

Moxxie turned to her, finger shaking, “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 Loona sat, bored, playing on her phone. Moxxie’s head appeared on the screen but was crushed by a weight and then blown up by a bomb. At one point his face was sliced in half as “boom!” flashed across the screen.

 “Remember that actual scene we shot for our commercial on Earth?” Blitzo asked.

 Moxxie got a flashback. “Oh, right. I shot that boy who was walking around licking strawberry ice cream. It was an accident.”

 “And did you know those human nurses and the doctor who beat up the kid on a stretcher and shocked him?”

 “Yes,” Millie said rolling her eyes. “I still remember my line as that pink haired nurse. “Doctor, he’s not responding.”

“Who ordered a stat?” Moxxie repeated, dressed up as a blue-haired man.

Millie laughed, “Then I beat him up and Moxxie said, “It didn’t do anything.”

Blitzo added, “Then I walked in and said “Damn it! We’re not losing another one! “Clear!” Then I shocked him and he somehow survived. I was like “Wow that actually worked.”

 Millie then explained that the three of them sat in the waiting room, with their costumes off. In a separate shot, Blitzo had imitated the human doctor by saying, “He appears to be in stable condition, but he’ll need surgery. Now what kind of insurance do you freaks have?” Then Blitzo said, “The fuck is insurance?”

 Moxxie sighed, “…and then the real doctors came in and kicked us out and we fell back into Hell. Personally, I felt like those scenes were confusing and very risky!”

 “It was brilliant!” said Blitzo. “We all did a great job, and it was in the human world. Why not cover up Moxxie’s mistake with a theater scene?”

 “You’re so dead!” Moxxie seethed, clenching his fist.

 “I know. We’re in Hell. No big deal,” Blitzo replied.

 “But are you sure the doctors were us or where they actually dumbass humans who didn’t know what they were doing?”

 “How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Blitzo replied. “How did that kid manage to survive being shocked so much? Why is it that music logic works on some and not on others? Why even have a Hell that’s a modern paradise and a shabby shithole at the same time? We might as well be in a large cartoon circus being mocked at by other beings.”

 Millie gasped. “Did you just break the 4th wall?”

 Blitzo winked. “Gotta practice my theater skills at some point.”

   Moxxie spoke, hands forward in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident with shooting the kid was Loona’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It’s very simple.”

 “Oh sit on a dick, Moxxie,” Loona replied without looking up.

 Moxxie stuttered angrily, looking for a comeback. “You sit…sit on a…a…do your job!” He slammed his palm on the table.

 Blitzo scolded him. “Hey, now we don’t blame our screw-ups on Loona, okay? She didn’t do anything wrong.” He hugged her and nuzzled his head against her cheek, the hellhound growling at him to get off.

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful!”

 Lonna looked at her phone. “The other day, right? I answered the phone and said “Hello, I.M.P.” Millie was yelling, “My husband got stabbed!” and then I hung up. Wasn’t my problem. My Hellhound Monthly magazine was much more interesting.”

 “Don’t forget about my adoption anniversary gift I gave you,” Blitzo said, scratching his neck.

 Lonna seethed. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t a cure for syphilis, I didn’t want it, and it so happened to be black spiders, crawling all over me!”

 “Again, I’m sorry about that,” Blitzo said.

 “God damn it, apology not accepted.”

 “You should be thankful that I rescued you after your hellhound family kicked you out,” Blitzo remarked.

 Loona’s ears twitched. Millie stared nervously. “I was perfectly capable of fending for myself,” barked Loona, looking up from her phone for the first time. “There was nothing special about them, other than all the alcohol, meth and drugs they took. My parents never cared about us. I mean, they sent off my other siblings to work for other overlords and were never seen again. Perhaps I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with them.”

 Blitzo had tears in his eyes. He hugged her again. “Well, at least you’ve got me, Moxxie, and Millie as your new family!”

 Loona hid a smile and just bared her fangs. “Get off of me before I bite your face off!”

Blitzo stepped back.

 Loona then smiled and looked at Moxxie, a look of mischief in her red eyes. “At least it was funny when Moxxie got that weight loss ad.”

 “Why would anyone send me that?!” Moxxie argued.

 “Come on, you know why.”

 “I’m not chubby, thank you very much! Not to mention, you were the one who ate my avocado salad lunch! How rude.”

 “But why would you drink on a workday?” Millie asked.

 “I was hungover from that morning, dumbasses!” Loona said to Moxxie and Millie. “I already told you that. I was getting tired of your petty talks and assaults. I kicked a baby in a carriage and caused some destruction to let out some steam. Felt good afterwards.”

 Blitzo mentioned to Loona. “Look, back to the topic. The point is, Loona is a valued member of our family and we don’t get rid of families.”

 “We aren’t a family, sir,” Moxxie pointed out. “You are the boss. We are the employees. You treat her like she’s some troubled teenager. She’s more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phones.”

Loona flipped him the bird.

 “That is offensive,” said Blitzo, walking to the window, pulling open the blinds. “Without homeless people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life.”

  Outside, a homeless imp with a broken horn and ragged grey clothing held up a sign that read “Monee helps. Satan Bless.” An imp woman with black clothing and little bat wings blushed at Blitzo who waved and did a playful raise of eyebrows before closing the blinds.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?”

“Come on, it’s not that big a deal,” Millie said.

 Moxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me…what?! He was in our fucking fridge! He was spying on me while I was asleep. And worse, he fucking filmed me and you while we were singing and about to kiss!”

 Blitzo giggled. “I still have it on camera.”

 “It’s fine, honey,” Millie replied to Moxxie, patting his shoulder. “The “spoiler alert, butter’s spoiled!” was a funny use of wordplay Blitzo used.

 “No way,” Moxxie countered. “I had a great dream about my parents being murdered and Blitzo interrupted it.”

 “I was just curious,” Blitzo responded.

 “Just…stop…doing that,” Moxxie growled.

 “I don’t see what the issue is,” said Blitzo. “Something you don’t want me seeing?” A mischievous silly look crossed his face.

 “No!” Moxxie spat.

 “Your baby weiner havor?” Blitzo asked, another term for a small dick.

 Loona giggled under her breath.

Moxxie was fed up. “Sir, what you say and how you act is totally INAPPROPRIATE!”

 Millie pulled him down gently. “Calm down, Mox, you’re gonna have another panic attack!”

 “I AM CALM!” he yelled.

Millie rubbed his head and soothed him. “Shh, there, there.” Moxxie whimpered.

 Blitzo spoke again with a childish grin, making a hole with two fingers and tapping the opening with one finger. “Look, I don’t judge the boring couple stuff you do outside of work hours, so don’t judge me.”

 Veins popped out of Moxxie’s yellow eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.” He crossed his arms as Millie gasped in horror.

“Mox, he’s our boss!”

 “No, it’s fine, Millie,” said Blitzo with a wave of his hand. “Your husband is just…how do I say this without being offensive…retarded.”

 “Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single, life?”

Blitzo leaned in toward Moxxie. “Yes it does, actually.”

 Loona appeared to agree, because she added to Moxxie, “The only reason you have a wife is because you’re easy to manage.”

Moxxie gasped. She had called Moxxie submissive.

“No he’s not, you turd!” Millie yelled, holding up two middle fingers.

 “Do not talk to my assistant that way!” Blitzo demanded. “She’s sensitive!”

“Yes I am!” Loona barked.

 Then a squeaky voice sounded from nearby: “You guys are fucking assholes.”

Everyone turned and stared at a boy wearing an orange shirt with a planet on it. He had brown hair, a blue baseball cap on and was connected to a monitor.

 Blitzo pointed at him. “Oh shut up, kid, you’re lucky to witness this.”

 Moxxie pinched his nose and sighed in frustration. “Ugh, this company’s such a mess!”

 “Did someone call me?” Niffty’s voice rang from the hallway. She opened the door a crack. “I can clean up any messes you may have!”

 “No!” Moxxie called. “Go away!”

 Niffty slowly closed the door.

 An awkward silence…

 “Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Blitzo said out of nowhere.

“Nobody was talking about that,” Loona mentioned.

“Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling, so how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The kid pointed his finger at Blitzo. He ripped off the wires from his stomach.

“It was hell pretending to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn’t kill me, but now? I want that. I want death. You!” he pointed to Blitzo. “You’re a selfish, greedy clown. And I’m a kid! We’re supposed to like clowns…even the creepy ones!”

 Moxxie scoffed. “Hey now, that’s not very…”

 The kid cut him off. “If I wanted to talk to a spineless jackass, I’d rip out your spine and ask you some shit.”

 Moxxie shivered in fear.

 “That’s my husband you’re talking to!” Millie yelled.

 The kid snickered. “That’s your husband?! I figured you for a slut, but I didn’t know you needed it that bad!”  

 Millie fumed at her husband being called ugly and weak. To think that she would have sex with anyone else at random…

 “And you!” The kid pointed at Loona.

 “Yeah? What about me?” Loona asked.

 The kid crossed his arms. “Nothing. I don’t talk to dogs. I’m a cat person.”

 Loona whined.

 “Wow,” said Blitzo. “You know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit.”

 “Oh you gotta admit, he’s good,” Moxxie muttered.

 A ding came from Loona’s phone. She smiled. “Oh fuck guys, I just got a text from our client. Guess he was the right target after all.”

 “Who?” Blitzo asked.

 “Him.”

 “Me?” asked the kid.

 “Yep,” she confirmed.

 “They wanted us to kill an actual child?” Blitzo asked.

 “That’s what they’re saying,” Loona said.

 Blitzo grinned and twirled a gun in his hand. His job just got more fun and easier. “Well Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god!” He fired and shot the boy in the chest. He flopped down dead in a pool of blood, smoke and sparks lingering in the air.

 Blitzo spoke about I.M.P.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can, like killing people. So from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Hell and no one fucking cares.”

 Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie kicked the dead kid on the floor, enjoying themselves. Loona snapped a picture with her phone. After the imps left with the body, Niffty came in and gasped.

“Well, time to clean this up. What a mess!” She hummed a happy tune as she mopped up the blood at rapid speed.

 Blitzo and Moxxie wore gas masks and green suits as Blitzo sawed off the boy’s arm and Moxxie sawed his chest, organs spilling out into a sack below. Millie tossed an arm into the sack and Loona helped hold open the sack. Moxxie dropped the boy’s severed head inside and shared a loving smile with his wife.

 Etched in red graffiti on a dumpster behind them were the words “Devil,” “Hell,” “Happy Hotel,” and “I’m always chasing rainbows.” A pentagram, and wide smiles were also doodled on the surface.

 Blitzo embraced the entire group in a forceful hug, knocking the phone from Loona’s hands.

“You know, even though this kid was a target, he’s still a child. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” He wrapped his long tail around the group, all of them smiling genuinely. For despite all their problems, they were still a company family.

   Back in the human world, a crying blonde mother wearing a pink shirt and a necklace held up a paper saying “missing boy.” Below in large letters read on the news: “Mom sucks at drawing own kid!”

 The mother spoke into the microphone, “Please, if anyone has seen my little Eddie…”

She gasped as a sack dropped into her hands. She and the news reporter looked up to see a smiling Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie through a portal up above.

 “You’re welcome!” Blitzo called with a wave before the portal closed.

The mother looked inside the bag and screamed. “My son! He’s dead! NOOOO!”

   Back in Hell, the three imps laughed out loud.

 “We did the right thing,” said Millie.

 “Yep, at least now she knows what happened to her kid,” said Blitzo.

 They turned around and spotted Niffty finishing up mopping the floor and walls. The water in the bucket was crimson red.

 “What the…?” Moxxie asked in disbelief. “Why is she still here?!”

 “Oh, hi, your back!” Niffty said. “Just in time too! I’ve talked with my friend and he’s coming over to chat with you.”

 “We don’t have time for any more chit-chat,” Moxxie spat. Loona sat in a chair, staring at her phone. “Whatever.”

 There was a knock on the door.

 “Oh here he is!” Niffty squealed and opened the door.

 Blitzo and the others saw a black and white scowling cat demon with red wings. He wore a small top hat and a large red bow tie. His wings had card symbols on it: diamonds, hearts, spades, and clubs.

 “Oh hello, Husk!” Niffty greeted as Husk slouched in.

 Husk narrowed his eyes at Niffty. “Alright, you said that these imps had an underground stash of cash and booze. Where is it?”

 Blitzo shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re broke.”

 “Husk,” said Niffty. “Don’t let this shabby town fool you. There’s loads of treasures hidden in plain sight.”

 Husk looked around as the imps shook their heads in confusion.

“You’re a fucking liar! You thought it would be a big ho-ra to trick me into following you? To meet these clown imps and to find there’s no booze at all? You think I’m some kind of fucking joke?!”

 Niffty just shrugged. “Well, it got you here and that’s the important thing.”

She darted around and shook the imp’s hands. “It’s so nice to meet more friends. It gets a bit boring at the hotel.”

 “What hotel?” Moxxie asked.

 “The Haz…Happy Hotel, of course! The one that princess Charlie runs to help redeem sinners.”

 Blitzo and the others looked at each other, then burst into laughter, while Husk scowled.

 “What? That’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard!” Blitzo giggled, pounding on the desk. Even Loona howled in laughter.

 Blitzo wiped tears from his eyes. “You’re telling me that Hell’s princess decides to turn sinners into do-gooders? Next thing you know, she’ll make the homeless rich. And I like homeless people too much to let that happen.”

 Moxxie face-palmed. “Why would royalty do something so pointless? If the princess wants to help out, then she should help us imps and hellhounds. We may be hellborn and above sinners, but we’re still treated like scum based on where we live and how easy it is for others to get us into service!”

 Loona nodded. “For once, I agree with him. And I could care less about what she does.”

 “Well, if you ever want to visit…”

 Moxxie glared at Niffty. “No. Thanks.”

 Millie sighed in defeat. “Aw, Blitzo, are you sure we can’t have her around? Or at least visit the hotel?”

 Blitzo stared into her wide pleading eyes and shook his head with a sigh. “I’m afraid Moxxie is right. As fun as it sounds, it’s too risky for us to go there by ourselves. At least not without weapons. Besides, we have work to do here.”

 Niffty mentioned to Husk. “This is my friend, Husk. Though he wasn’t the one who wanted us to come here.”

 Husk scoffed. “I’m no one’s friend. It was annoying enough to get dragged out of the bar and into this shady shithole of a city. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Niffty and that crazy…”

 Husk paused and stared at the hellhound, with wide eyes.

 Loona took out a dark brown bottle marked with three xs on it and took a drink.

 “Is that hard booze?” Husk asked.

 “Yep,” said Loona.

 “Can I have it?”

 “No.”

 “Hand it over, bitch!”

 Loona growled, “Shut it, pussy!”

 Husk hissed. “Fuck you!”

 Loona held up two fingers.

 “Oh you did not just go double on me!”

 “Sure did.”

 “Okay then,” Husk said, swiping the phone from Loona’s hand.  

 “HEY!” Loona barked, spitting out her drink. She got up from her chair and chased Husk around the room. The sounds of cat screeches and dog barks filled the room.

  Hey, Husk!” Blitzo yelled. “Do not insult my assistant!”

  “What ya gonna do, boss man?” Husk called, leaping onto the table, Millie jumping out of the way. Loona threw a book at Husk, who ducked. The book instead hit Niffty in the face, sending her flying across the room and against the stripped wall. “I’m okay!”

  Moxxie face-palmed as he watched the chaos. “I might as well quit, but I don’t have any other means to support myself.” Millie embraced Moxxie who whimpered again.  

 Everyone yelled, adding to the chaos.

 “ORDER IN THE OFFICE!” Blitzo yelled, pounding his hand on the table.

 “MY PHONE BACK, JACKASS!” Loona snarled loudly.

 “GET ME RICH OR I’M LEAVING!” Husk added.

 Niffty cleaned up the room, muttering to herself.

 Millie practiced singing out loud, trying to drown out the noise. “INSIDE OF EVERY DEMON IS A RAINBOW…”

 “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW THAT SONG?” Loona asked her.

 Moxxie covered his ears. “WOULD EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP FOR ONE…”

 A sudden screeching sound brought the yelling and erratic activities to an abrupt halt.  Everyone winced at the sound, which vanished as quickly as it came.

 “What was…that?” Blitzo asked, shaking his head.

 “Dunno,” Loona said. “Sounded like somebody testing a microphone.”

  A very slow “Shave and a Haircut” knock filled up the silence. It came from behind the door that led to the hallway.

 Loona and Husk froze, maws open in mid-brawl. Moxxie raised his eyebrows and suddenly started to shiver. Millie and Blitzo suddenly felt an oncoming sense of dread. Husk crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Niffty, however, clapped her hands in excitement. She took some steps forward, but froze at Moxxie’s glare.

 “Do not answer the door,” Moxxie whispered in a harsh tone.

 Niffty stared in confusion. “Why not? He’s my friend.”

 Moxxie narrowed his eyes.

 “From the other side!” Niffty emphasized.

 “Just don’t go any further.”

 Niffty grinned and tiptoed closer to the door.

 “No, no, no,” Moxxie breathed, moving his hands across in a signal. “Stop right there.”

 Niffty stopped and slowly reached her thin black hand toward the round handle.

 “Oh for Lucifer’s sake!” Blitzo announced, walking toward the door. “It’s Niffty’s coworker. How bad can he be?”

 He opened the door and grinned. “Hi I’m Blitz…”

 His eyes widened and his face fell.

 “…o.”

 Blitzo stared at a towering tall demon wearing a tattered red dress coat with vertical thin stripes. Burgundy colored pants covered his legs and ended in red patches along the ends. He wore black dress shoes with red deer print marks on the soles. His undershirt was red and had an upside down black cross as part of the design. A black bow tie was displayed below his slender neck. One of his four clawed hands held a red vintage microphone staff.

 Blitzo stuttered, at a loss for words. Fear was constricting his throat. He stuttered as he looked up at the man’s face, “Welcome…”

 Blitzo stared at the man’s red and black hair, with large deer ears and antlers. His large red eyes blinked to life from a pale face. A monocle gleamed under his right eye.

 “…to…”

 The man displayed a grin of sharp yellow teeth, his smile too wide to be considered natural.

 “…I.M.P…”

 The demon opened his mouth, “Hell…”

 Blitzo slammed the door, catching his breath. He opened it a crack…

 “…o!”

 Closed it again. “Guys…” he began.

 “What?” Moxxie asked in frustration.

 “I think we need to move away. Niffty, could you please send your friend away? He’s giving me the creeps.”

 Niffty shook her head.

 “Don’t let him in, sir!” Moxxie said. Husk nodded in agreement.

 Millie gasped, “That’s a rude way to treat a guest!”

 “Okay then, do you want to open the door?”

 Millie gulped.

 Blitzo sighed and opened it again.

 “May I speak now?” the man asked.

 “Sure, whatever,” Blitzo muttered.

 The overlord swooped into the room. “Greetings fellow sinners! I’m Alastor but people call me the Radio Demon. I heard from my little darling Niffty that you imps are part of an assassination organization, yes?”

 Blitzo took a deep breath and cleared his throat. A smile appeared on his face, now that he was feeling confident. “That’s correct, good sir! I’m Blitzo and I’m the founder of the Immediate Murder Professionals, I.M.P. for short.”

 Alastor laughed. “What a clever name! I.M.P. run by imps! And who are your associates?”

 Blitzo mentioned to the other imps, “This is Moxxie and Millie.” Millie waved and blushed while Moxxie glowered.

 Loona looked up from her phone.

 “…and this is my sweet daughter, Loona,” Blitzo finished.

 Loona growled and snapped her teeth at Alastor, causing him to take a step back. Retaining his composure, he continued. “That little maid is Niffty, and that cat over there is Husk. I saw your commercial on the picture show and was intrigued. Murdering people in gruesome ways…a classic form of entertainment! It even makes my methods look standard. All thanks to Niffty for finding your location.”

 Niffty smiled and waved.

 “Next time, don’t mention Imp City in the ad,” Moxxie spat at Blitzo in a low voice.

 Alastor walked slightly closer to Blitzo, leaning in. “Is it true that you have access to the living world?”

 “Uh…yes?” Blitzo answered. He felt Alastor’s fingers make their way along his curved horns. Despite himself denying it, Blitzo felt his cheeks go pink.

 “And you can create portals? Splendid, indeed. There’s no other being in Hell who can do that.”

 “Smooth liar,” Husk muttered from a distance.

 “That’s right!” Blitzo replied. “Our company has special access to the living world due to our abilities. I may have also stolen a Satanic ritual book from a bird dick overlord several days ago. Top secret.”

 Moxxie’s face turned purple, he made the hand signal for “zip it!” to Blitzo, but of course, he wasn’t paying attention.

 Alastor smiled and put a finger to his lips. “Rest assured, whatever happens here, stays here.”

 He waved his hand and two bottles of booze appeared in front of Husk.  

 “You might think you can keep getting away with bribing me like that…” Husk said, narrowing his eyes, “…but we both know you can!” He picked up a bottle and started drinking. Loona snatched the other one.

  “What exactly are you doing here, anyway?” Moxxie demanded to Alastor.

 “Why I’m here to help out your company, of course! I’m already involved in helping Charlie with her hotel, so I figured I could expand my horizons.”

 The Radio Demon walked over to Millie. “Hello, dear, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 He gently kissed her red hand, making her giggle.

 Moxxie slapped his hand away. “No one touches my wife, you got that?”

 Alastor just shrugged and walked toward the table.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, Mister!” Mooxie stood from his chair and walked over to him. He pointed at his chest, making the demon’s smile more strained. “You look like a shady showman to me, so listen here. You have no business whatsoever in interfering with our company. Or messing around with my coworkers and my boss. So, don’t go around harming anyone here, or we’ll kick you out of our office…or just slice you to bits, Dapper Deer!”

 Alastor just laughed softly. Millie and Blitzo walked over to calm Moxxie down.

 “If I wanted to hurt anyone here…” Alastor said…

 He then spoke in a creepy tone: “I would’ve done so already.”

His eyes turned into red moving radio dials and the air filled with radio static and floating red voodoo symbols.

 He shook his head and the sensations ceased. His eyes returned to normal. “So, now let’s talk about how I can help you out.”

 “What?” Millie asked.

 “How can I be of assistance? You want donations? Promotion? An upgraded outfit?”

 Blitzo scoffed, “My outfit is great enough as it is. But… you said something about promotions?”

  Alastor nodded. “You ever feel like your work goes unrecognized?”

 “Yeah,” Blitzo replied. “People do come to us a lot to murder people, but…”

 Alastor tilted his head…

 Blitzo continued, “…but the imps and residents here look down on us. Not to mention even the sinners brush us aside like we’re trash. That’s why we’ve kept to ourselves a lot. We imps have to stick together…and hellhounds, too.”

 Loona rolled her eyes.

 “But your company is so unique, and with such special access, I don’t know why others would look down on you,” Alastor mentioned. “Whoever those horrible people are…who are they?”

 “My asshole father,” Blitzo said. “He’s kept me from achieving my musical theater dreams.”

 Alastor placed a hand on Blitzo’s shoulder. He spoke in his sympathetic tone, reserved for making others feel at ease.

 “Oh, believe me, I’ve been there. I’ve loved singing and music ever since I can remember. And my dad…well it’s a long story, too tragic to go into. Have you ever thought of…killing the person in your way? It’s surprisingly simple, and you of all people should know.”

 “I…um…”

 Moxxie nodded. “I had a dream that my parents were being murdered, and I wanted to get back to that.”

 “What if I told you…there was a way for your dreams to come true?”

 “That’s impossible,” Moxxie scoffed.

 Alastor appeared behind him, from his shadow form, making him jump. “I don’t think so! I can do so many things for your cause.” He stood in front of the three imps. A flaming bag of money appeared in Alastor’s outstretched hand, in front of Blitzo’s eyes. It changed to fiery silhouettes of Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie dancing to the clapping of a crowd coming through his microphone. “This may seem like a bit much, but so far, you’re a well-established company.” The I.M.P. logo appeared in his hand before he closed it. “I could improve you ads, extend your business to Pentagram City, all under my protection. Imps won’t have to be the lowest of the low ever again.”

 Blitzo and his associates looked at each other, lost in thought. Alastor’s grin grew wider.

  “Do you really want to give up this golden opportunity?”

 Moxxie paused. Blitzo found himself shaking his head. Millie smiled at Niffty and Husk nearby.

 Alastor turned to leave. “Well, it was worth a try. I could give you some time to think about it…it was only a suggestion.”

 He slowly walked toward the door. “3…2…1…”

 Blitzo’s eyes went wide. “No, no, wait! Don’t leave.”

 Alastor turned his head, smile wide. He turned back to them and held out his right hand. “So, do we have a deal?”

 “No deals!” Moxxie yelled, pulling Blitzo away. “There’s something shifty about this guy. The stuff he says is too good to be true.”

 “You sure about that?” he asked. “Perhaps I need to persuade you a little more…”

 He snapped his fingers and the table and pictures vanished. The room turned a dark purple and the floor became wooden like dance floor. Deer antlers and voodoo symbols lined the walls in neon colors. The posters now showed deer with black bloody circles in place of eyes. Alastor’s outfit changed into a red suit, with a red top hat with pins sticking out. Soon, everyone was wearing attire from the early 1900s: dapper dresses and round hats of purple, green and yellow for Millie, Niffty, and Loona, and suits of light blue, white and black for Blitzo, Husk and Moxxie.

  “Take it boys!” Alastor called, snapping his fingers. Shadow spirits emerged from a newly created portal in the ground. One played a saxophone, one a trumpet, and the other played the drums.

 A jazzy remix of the I.M.P. jingle played. Moxxie and Millie danced and spun around in the spotlight as the music played. Husk and Moxxie glared at each other in a corner. Niffty smiled and danced along, while Loona stared at her phone again.

 Alastor mentioned for Blitzo to come on stage and sing with him. Blitzo blushed and slowly made his way next to him.

  Alastor sang through his vintage microphone, which lit up.

   “When you want somebody dead,

And you wanna poke fun at their head

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals

 Whether homicide or genocide

We’ll make it look like suicide

Immediate Murder Professionals

 We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell

We’ll kill your husband or your wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals

 The song was followed by an electro swing solo and a repeat of the verses.

Blitzo was lost in a blissful trance as he and Alastor spun around in a dance.

 They both stopped to catch their breath as the music slowed to a relaxing jazz melody.

 Alastor held out his right hand. “What’d you say? Won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?” The area around him glowed an eerie green and a strange wind gusted.

 Millie ran over and eagerly shook his hand. “I accept! Thank you for your help!” In the shadows, Moxxie was pulled toward Alastor by black tentacles wrapping around his waist.

 Blitzo stared at Alastor’s hand in front of him. Common sense told him to stay far away from this demon.

 But Millie had shaken his hand already…and he did offer to help them…

 Blitzo’s musical dream was just beginning, and so was his company. Why back out now?

 He slowly moved his hand closer, hovering over Alastor’s fingerless glove- covered hand.

 Loona’s eyes grew wide. Her fur stuck on end and her instincts kicked in. She could smell deceit and evil coming from the demon. She hadn’t thought it would go this far. For the first time, she placed her phone down on the ground. “Blitz!” she called.

 Blitzo briefly looked behind Alastor…and saw his adopted daughter…with fear in her eyes for the first time. He was sure he was dreaming. There was no way magic like this could exist, and surely his daughter wouldn’t show this much concern for him.

 But then again…Blitzo could create portals to Earth, so anything was possible.

 “Anything is possible,” said Alastor, as if reading his thoughts.

 “Don’t do it!” Loona barked. She raced over to Blitzo…only for Husk and Niffty to block her. Husk’s eyes and Niffty’s eye glowed red. “Ahh, the fuck?!” Loona exclaimed, in shock.

 Blitzo’s shaking hand inched closer…

 Moxxie’s hand was forcibly guided to the demon’s other hand by the tentacles…

 Loona growled and swatted Husk and Niffty aside with her paws.

  Blitzo’s hand touched Alastor’s at the same time Moxxie’s did.

“Noooo!”

  The Radio Demon cackled in triumph as Blitzo and Moxxie shook his hands. All three imps briefly opened their eyes wide, all glowing red. Small streams of evil black energy from their souls traveled from each of their mouths and into Alastor’s staff. Husk and Niffty stood up and stared at each other…for this had happened to them as well. All five of them stood still like soldiers, each with too-wide grins on their faces as static and symbols filled the air. The static was overwhelming to Loona’s ears, and she soon passed out.

   Then suddenly, the room and everyone’s outfits returned to normal. Everyone’s eyes cleared, and the portal and tentacles vanished.

Moxxie and Blitzo removed their hands.

 “What…just happened?” Blitzo asked.

 “Something amazing,” Niffty said.

 Loona sat up and rubbed her head. “I think I just had another hangover.”

 Husk had already thrown up after all the dancing and spinning.

 Niffty sighed. “Let me clean that,” and rushed off.

 “Well, I’ll say that was quite entertaining!” Alastor said. “Look.” He pointed to a radio which hadn’t been there before. Blitzo listened and he could hear the jazzy version of the I.M.P. jingle being played. A low announcer voice said, “Call the Immediate Murder Professionals! Founded by the Incredible Blitzo, and his associates Moxxie and Millie….and Loona too.”

 Loona raised her middle finger.

 “Call 1-800-666-Hell or go online to I.M.P. .com today!”

 Alastor grinned. “It’s now been broadcasted all over Hell…and it should appear on the Picture Show very soon!”

 “Wait, Picture Show?” asked Millie.

 “He means the TV,” Blitzo replied.

 Alastor grinned. “Well, I’d love to stay, but I’m a busy man. Good luck with your business. Come along, Niffty, Husk.”

 Niffty scurried over and opened the door for Alastor. Husk gave one final “fuck you,” to Loona and Moxxie before leaving.

 “By the way…” Alastor said as he reached the door. “Since I’ve helped you out, it only seems fair that you help me out as well. Don’t be alarmed if you’re suddenly summoned to help me out in my various conquests of Hell.  Loona, your services are not required.” Loona grunted in response before he finished, “Consider my deal as an inevitable new career for you…”

 His eyes turned into dials again…

 “…as my slaves.”

 His eyes turned fully red once more. “Ta-la for now!”

 He waved goodbye and the door closed behind him, everyone staring wide-eyed. No one noticed that the Satanic book had disappeared…

  The imps didn’t believe that was the case…

 …until one day, they were transported outside near the Hazbin Hotel. Their auras glowed red and their bodies became dark shadows. They surrounded Sir Pentious’ blimp, giggling as dark power flowed through their veins. The tentacles wrapped around the blimp and the shadow imps scattered before the vehicle exploded in a cloud of pink smoke. Charlie, Angel Dust, Husk, Vaggie, and Niffty watched in horror as Alastor stood with a sinister grin on his face.

 The group walked back to the hotel as Alastor talked about his mother’s jambalaya. With a snap of his fingers, the “Happy Hotel” words on the roof changed to “Hazbin Hotel.”

 “Stay tuned,” Alastor finished with low laughter.