#a grand piano falls from the sky and crushes him

[scalpho]

i love colin provolone so much and i wish so badly that he ate shit and died 5 minutes in. we couldve had it all (zac oyama playing flakey smuthers)

[luimagines]

Group Scenario’s Part 1 Masterlist

Waking up next to him

He accidently hurts you Part 1 Part 2

He’s upset and needs comfort

He’s protective and doesn’t know he’s crushing

He reacts to seeing you sick/wounded Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Cheesy Pick Up Lines

You help them out in an embarrassing situation

They realize they love you Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Modern Reader meets The Chain

The Chain React to You Having a Breakdown Part 1 Part 2

You react to seeing them sick/wounded Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You give them a kiss! (Mostly Platonic)

The Chain Confess While You’re Hurt/Upset Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Reader is loopey from poisoned plant

Date Night with the Chain Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You call the Chain by their Name

You Misunderstand a Conversation Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Find Out Their Secrets Part 1   Part 2

He asks You to Dance Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

You Accidently Hurt Him Part 1 Part 2

He Gives You a Kiss! (mostly platonic)

Date Day! Reader’s Treat Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

First Kiss! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Sequel to ‘He Realizes He Likes you’ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

He Thinks You Straight Up Die Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Reader Plays the Piano

The Boy Fail Their Confession Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Protect/ Save His Life Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Modern Date Night Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Chain Gives You Gifts

Sequel to ’You Misunderstand a Conversation’ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Get Married! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Chain Are Smitten Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

There Was Only One Bed Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Cuddles with Woflie, Legend and Hyrule

Zombie/Brain Dead! Reader

Prince! Twilight and Prince! Sky

Sequel to ‘He Thinks You Straight Up Die.’ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You’re Soulmates! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Leave Before He can Confess Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

He Loses a Bet and has to Flirt with You!

He Flusters You Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Fluster Him Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Fierce Deity Chain

Twilight and Warrior Find You Injured

The Chain Tries to Lie

Lord Of Grand Entrances

Sequel to Brain Dead!/Zombie! Reader

DnD! Reader

The Dark crystal Reveals Dragon! Reader

Fairy! Reader Wants to Help the Chain

You Fall Asleep and Drool On Time/ Twilight/ Sky

Sequel to Prince! Twilight and Prince! Sky

The Chain Hangs out in Modern! Reader’s House

You Get Sick But Heaven Forbid You Take a Break (Platonic)

You’re Really Good at Archery  

You Find a Fear Room

You Blurt Out Who’s Your Favorite

He’s Flirty and You’re Flustered Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Sequel to ‘There’s Only One Bed‘ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 

You Steal His Clothes Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

He is Loopey from a Poisoned Plant

He Tries To Impress You Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

He’s Sweet On You Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A Kabedon Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Ruffle Their Hair Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Show Up while He’s Traveling Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Take The Potion

Sequel to ‘He Loses a Bet’

Incredible Reenactment 

Fake Engagement Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 

You Leave Before He Can Confess Sequel Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Chain Meets Someone from Another World Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Chain Turns into Kids Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Eat Something You’re Not Supposed to

You Give Him a Kiss (Romantic)

You Realize You Like Him Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Reunite After Not Confessing Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Turn Into a Kid Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Caught K-I-S-S-I-N-G Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Give Him a Massage Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You Call Out to Him in Your Sleep Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Someone Blurts Out “You’re Beautiful”

He Realizes You Like Him Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Broken Heart, Broken Kingdom

Loopey Plant Sequel

Send Me a Sign

It’s a Dog, Not a Horse

Little Link

Kid! Hero Meets the Chain

Chain messes with Modern! Reader’s stuff

[vvienne]

TODOBAKUDEKU FIC RECS

Curse of Baytown by surveycorpsjean

With the last of his hope, Shouto stumbles into a strange town. Be it destiny, or be it fate; his life will change forever.

two whole dicks for a half and half bitch by Ascend

Todoroki stumbles his way into a threesome, Midoriya cries into his pants, and Bakugou gets cockblocked no less than twice, but eventually, they all get laid.

Of Respite and Odyssey, Balm and Halcyon, Rapture and Godot, Lear and Pierrot by JayJEx

Aizawa and All Might’s Forever Squad of Problem Children

(8:47 AM) Midorito: @/everyone this is an official callout post for @/Discount IcyHot Patch, who is returning to musutafu tomorrow and DIDN’T EVEN TELL ANY OF US!!!!! ლ(ಠ益ಠ)ლ

Shouto groans in despair. Predictably, the group chat immediately explodes.

-or-

Todoroki returns to Musutafu after six years away and his tragic inability to keep up with all of the people in his life catches up to him in the worst, most irritating ways possible.

(Though he might at least get a boyfriend or two out of the matter. That’s a plus.)

if it was only a distraction (how come I can't stay away) by Voulezvous_79

He scrolls down and his heart stops - shit, shit, shit, no. Bad Izuku. You are over this. Completely, totally, definitely over any high school crushes that were going nowhere - because it’s the photo.

The one he surreptitiously had as his phone background for his entire first year in America. The one he cried over when he got on the plane. The one he jerked himself off to - once, okay!? It was one time, and he panic-deleted it after he came, and then cried about that, so he’s not proud, okay?

---

Or: Izuku's back in Japan, and he's definitely, totally, 100% coping with his friends' new relationship.

Biology for Assholes by fruiticle

Bakugou, an omega with Pseudo Alpha Syndrome, was content to live with his heatless, smoke-scented, absolutely-not-soft condition.

Really. He wouldn’t change a thing.

JUMP!!! by cxlmberry

Izuku grew up watching Superhero Legend, the iconic, generation-defining anime series featuring the invincible crimefighter All Might. Now, he is ready to become a professional manga author himself, to inspire thousands of people with his own series for decades to come – if only things were that simple.

Weekly Shounen Jump picked up Shouto’s series when he was only sixteen, and since then, he has become one of the most accomplished authors in the magazine. He’s a teenage prodigy. A genius. Jump’s main attraction. Sometimes the stress of it is too much.

Katsuki is talented – extremely, rudely so, and he knows it. An incredible artist and master storyteller, he’s out to become the one and only, undisputed King of Shounen Jump. Now, he only needs to get published.

A story of passions and careers, talent and hard work, second, third and fourth chances, as well as recovery and growth.

---

Alternatively, a budding manga artists AU.

Fire in the Mountains by EllaBesmirched (El_Bell)

“I’ll do it.”

Enji froze, fingers curling into a fist at his side, and didn’t turn around.

Shouto froze too, feeling his own eyes widen in shock at the words that had come out of his mouth, at the fact that he had actually stood up, followed his father out of the room, and dashed after him all just to say… he’d do it? He would do it? Him. Shouto Todoroki. He would--

Enji finally turned around and fixed Shouto with an expression so scathing, Shouto had to fight to keep his chin raised. “You’ll marry the Barbarian King.”

Shouto blinked. “Yes.”

How (Not) to Bribe a Human Sacrifice by maxisnotokay

"You want to kill me?" Katsuki asked, brows raised. He suddenly looked a little less like a king and more like a man, peering at Izuku through the moonlight. "You help me make this cure, and you kill me."

"Those are my conditions," Izuku said. He didn't break his gaze. "A deal's a deal, Kacchan, and I'm trying to be a hero."

+++

[fantasy au. midoriya literally falls from the sky and strikes up a deal with an unlikely candidate. things do not go as planned.]

Guildy Pleasures by Mysecretfanmoments

As the only son of a powerful politician, Todoroki Shouto's life is just one big boring cutscene—except when he logs on to Land of Heroes, where he plays as ShoutO, slaying foes and keeping his fellow guildmates alive. It's enough fun that it almost distracts him from the fact that he's falling for two of those guildmates. Almost. But he's got to stay in stealth mode, because Bakugou and Midoriya are mega-popular streamer duo ZeroDeku… and they're already dating each other.

Shouto has managed to keep his real identity a secret from them all this time, but when he's caught on live television watching one of their streams he ends up not only pulling aggro from the whole country, but catching the attention of ZeroDeku themselves. To his shock, they actually want to meet Shouto, the politician's son—and this time there's no avatar to hide behind.

the universe must have my back, you fell from the sky into my lap by lelex

The picture looks like it was taken in a cafe, Todoroki in a light blue sweater that even from a distance looks wildly soft, seated at a baby grand piano with his short hair effortlessly tousled. It’s one of those photos where it’s obvious Todoroki wasn’t expecting it to be taken—he’s in the middle of looking up at whoever is behind the camera, a smile small on his face but delight evident in the curve of his mouth.

He’s stupidly beautiful. Looking at him for too long makes Izuku kind of sweaty.

They both sit there staring at this one picture for almost three full minutes. In complete silence. Eventually, Kacchan sighs a little bit and tips his head backwards to rest on the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, he murmurs, “Well, shit.”

Izuku can’t stop the lightly hysterical laugh that explodes from his mouth in response.

“We’re fucked.”

*

Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto fuck up a meet-cute, twice. But everyone wins in the end.

Cinderoki, the Sweaty Prince, and the Furious Fairy by Esselle

"I wish I could go to the royal ball for Prince Izuku," Shouto finally told the fairy.

Katsuki screwed up his face. "That's it?" Shouto nodded. "Why?"

"It seems fun."

"It's not going to be fun." Katsuki scowled. "It's going to be terrible. You have to have a better wish."

"I want that one," Shouto said.

--

Todoroki Shouto is cursed. Since he was five years old, he's been locked away from the rest of the world to keep his out of control magic a secret. He thought he could be content with his storybooks—until an invitation comes from the royal palace, inviting his family to attend a ball for Crown Prince Izuku.

Shouto wants to go; he wants to be normal; he wants to leave his cage. Most of all, he wants to know what it's like to live in a fairy tale, even if it's only for one night. Fortunately, he's about to meet one pissed off fairy named Katsuki, who's been watching Shouto his whole life and waiting to make his wish come true.

Powder Keg by Ajaxthegreat

Bakugou really, really, really didn’t want to be trapped in an elevator with Todoroki and a fireproof dildo.

Sensory Input by Esselle

"Captain," Shouto says, clearing his throat. "You put in a request?"

Midoriya stands in front of the window now, staring out at the endless expanse of stars. He turns when Shouto enters. Like Bakugou, he's dressed casually, in a simple grey shirt that stretches over his chest. His green eyes blink wide as though in surprise, before he smiles. It's sheepish and shy. In front of the window, the vastness of space flung out behind him, he's as stunning as a supernova.

"I did, right," he says. "The, um, the thermostat… seems to be, maybe—"

Bakugou cuts him off with a loud sigh. "Quit wastin' his time and tell him why he's really here."

--

Shouto is a remote crew member of a spaceship—his real body is stationed on a world far away, but his consciousness is housed in a maintenance bot on board the ship. When he manages to attract the attention of the ship's gorgeous captain and fiery first officer, it doesn't take long to discover that the bot's adjustable sensitivity levels have more enjoyable applications than repair work.

[kachuuyaa]

##MELANCHOLY'S INTOXiCATiON — genshin impact

g.i, kaeya, fic? drabble?

1CHARACTER; KAEYA

2GENRE; fluff? i dunno

3INCLUDES; alcohol, kaeya being drunk, kaeya, reader being sick and tired Damn u just want to sleep, u playing the piano because youre a Good Friend 🤣💥😲⁉️😲

4AUTHOR’S NOTES ?! sometimes i want to hug kaeya sometimes i want to punch him 😘🤨 love him though he’s just an asshole sometimes your honor

5SYNOPSIS; was it intoxication that led them to you? They say you succumb to impulsiveness when you drink, but was it really impulsiveness when they showed up at your doorstep? In which, they stumble onto your house, inebriated and miserable. out of pity, (at least, that's what you say) you lay them on your couch and play a piano piece for them. Since when did you play the piano?

..WAS IT A HARD DAY FOR HIM? HE himself didn't know. Whatever it is, it ended up being one of those nights. his breathing unstable, head down low, fingers entangling a glass of the famous Death After Noon. His memories, however, are what he's trying to forget for the night (as always, but really, he wouldn't admit it.) but, much to his displeasure, while he was trying to drown his life away with his drinks, his memories decide to drown him in. Kaeya liked to call himself confident and exceptional, but with you, his confidence seemed to lessen. How dare you, he thinks, familiar yet in denial with these feelings, how dare you make me able to feel such things, he thinks again, he blames you, it's a daily thing for him now, whenever his emotions go haywire, when he looks at you and feels— nervous, at first, why would he feel nervous? He knew the answer already. Although Kaeya Alberich, ever the cunning liar, thinks—oh, no, he knows, that it's but a crush. Now, though? Oh, how you've swept said Cavalry Captain, he's absolutely smitten for you, and he wonders if you are too. He doesn't know, nor he doesn't care how many ounces he has drunk, but it seems enough for him to get sent out by his beloved brother. A scowl printed on the redhead's face, snatching his brother's cup when he was about to order— again. Seriously, when he's in love, (was that the right word to describe it, now?) he managed to get more annoying, that doesn't make him less irresistible. (at least, that's what he thinks.) Diluc only sighs, however, concern replacing his aloof demeanor. they weren't on the best of terms, per se— scratch that, they weren't on good terms. Have you ever seen Diluc without his scowl whenever his eyes land on Kaeya? "Go home, Kaeya." Diluc warns, but Kaeya only smiles, "Is dear brother worried for me?" He says, slurred— but his stepbrother was able to notice the slight tease on his tone. He clicked his tongue, turning away, to revel in the light the moon provided. It's almost like the sky, the gods, were mocking the cavalry captain. His periwinkle eye shines under the twilight, making his face a sight to those who noticed. He grunts, standing up from his seat, legs a bit wobbly due to the amount of drinking he had done. a few crack of his joints, he managed to stand up straight— for a few seconds, that is. He turns around, back to where his stepbrother was last seen, "See you soon, brother, goo— ah," he spoke, a pained click of his tongue was heard; he gained a headache. "Good night." He managed to voice out, stepping out of the tavern, footsteps uneven and vision blurred. He could only imagine a faint "take care of yourself, Kaeya." from Diluc.

A knock on your door, who could it be? At this hour, as well? [Name], ever the overthinker. Capable of replacing Kaeya's position on the Knights Of Favonius, do you think? You really did not have the energy to tend to anyone today. Although you really didn't do anything today, let's gloss over that. The moon— reminds you of that periwinkle eye that never seems to leave your figure. You weren't an idiot, you knew, but what you didn't know, was did he know that you know? He didn't, actually. He tried being subtle; he thought he was being subtle. He was described as observant, yet he still doesn't know that he's not being subtle; was it on purpose? You didn't know, and yet, you can't find yourself to care. You just needed confirmation. To be fair, when you dream about him and when he manages to have the key to your heart, does that mean you love him? Another knock, this time, louder. Letting out a 'tch' in frustration, you get up, walking to the door as slowly as possible. Was it cruel, to make the unexpected and definitely unwanted visitor wait for a while? To you, obviously not. You were about to sleep, for fucks' sake. Turning the doorknob, You were met with quite an unexpected sight. Kaeya, the man you were thinking about just a few moments ago, slumped on the wall near your door, clothes disheveled, lips stained with what you could make out as wine, hair tousled, some strands falling on his face, a slight blush on his cheeks— something you have never seen before, and his hands were placed on his forehead. He was heavily breathing and seemed to have put your attention on you when you oh so softly called out his name. "Hello, darling," the pet name rolled off his tongue before he could prevent it. Was this man trying to kill you? If he is, he's doing a damn good job. (just like he always is.) with his noticeable, yet unique eyes boring into your own, his features being illuminated, courtesy of the moonlight. Quickly snapping out of your thoughts, you turned to the man looking at you. "Why.." you made a circling motion with your pointer finger, to which Kaeya chuckled at. His voice, raspy, entered your ears and led you to the conclusion that he was, once again, drunk. "I think you have an idea, princess." He said, the pet name once again leaving his mouth. You could feel your face heating up, however, that was the least of your concerns. "Anyways.." He trailed off, cocking his head to the door, "Are you gonna let me in?" He really didn't want to entertain any questions relating to why he came to your house instead of his, (once again, he decides to blame it on his feelings-- on you) but he decides to play along; that's what he does best, no?

You reluctantly let him in, hearing a relieved ‘thank you’ from the blue-haired man. Contemplating whether to make him sleep on the couch or in the guest bedroom— did you even have one? You forgot the interior of your house due to how tired you are. Not that you were complaining, thinking makes your head hurt on nights like these. in the middle of your internal monologue, Kaeya made himself comfortable on your couch; a squeak was heard when he was shifting. You quickly shifted your gaze to the man who is now in front of you. Silence fills the canvas that is the sky and your living room. "Remove your accessories," You mumble, hoping that he would hear it. He flicked his head to you, smirking, "At least take me out for drinks," He teased, and you couldn't help but deadpan at him. Oh, you’re taking him out alright. With a sword. Although intoxicated, his teasing was still unrelenting. He obeyed you, either way, taking off his cape, (was it a cape? it looks like so.) and his pelt of fur, placing them carefully on the small coffee table in front of him. Then, his boots came off as well. "Enjoying the view, hm?" He cooed, locking his eyes with yours, and you let out an amused hum, unfazed by his antics. "Right," you really don't want to deal with this today. It's late at night, and this Cavalry Captain decided to barge into your doorstep. You didn't want to ask why, though, he'll tease you relentlessly while avoiding the topic. You grabbed some spare pillows and blankets from your other room. Internally clicking your tongue and cursing him out in your mind, you halted your footsteps when you saw him sleeping. His mouth was slightly agape and his legs were (long, was your first thought) bent so he could fit on your couch. Snickering to yourself, you gently lifted his head up to put the pillow below him, and a blanket on top of him. Thinking about it, you doubted the reason why he came here was to bring false hope. To make you believe that you actually had the chance to be with the Kaeya Alberich, the proclaimed bachelor of Mondstadt. You knew how many people would kill to be in your place right now, but that, you could care less about. Kaeya was unpredictable; you knew. You kept learning new things about him every day, but to others, it may seem that he could read you like the back of your hand. He wasn't wrong, nor was he right, but the things you do are sometimes predictable, some even more so than others. You surprise him, you really do; you could learn things and adapt to certain situations in a snap, and that was probably what allured him. You were attractive, it was obvious, it doesn't take a genius to see that, but what attracted him was the personality you never showed to people. It was a privilege to Kaeya, to him, at least. You sighed, walking towards your grand piano in the center of the living room, light reflecting from its material. You made sure your footsteps were soft so as not to disturb the man on your couch, and you sat down. A melody won't hurt, would it?

your fingers worked their way to the keyboard, and then, you play. Your fingers were like weavers— skilfully weaving a masterpiece and satisfying its client, and you— clearly you weren't going to fail such powerful pianists, now would you? You were painting a canvas using your fingers, pressing on its keys ever so gently; the music traveling with the wind. You had a natural talent for piano, it was obvious, you never had a hard time implementing piano pieces onto your head. Your fingers were single-handedly forming a story on their own on the piano, pressing onto its tiles and carefully playing each note. Kaeya, on the other hand, was never asleep. This was one of the moments where you never fail to surprise him. Piano? Since when were you able to play such an instrument? You never mentioned such a thing to him, nor to anyone he could recall. Could he say that this melody you were playing, just for him, made him fall even harder? It was a pit that he could never escape, he realized that. Maybe the reason why he was here was that he was looking for you. He knew that he loved you, he's not denying it anymore. Who knew that such a simple piece could impact someone's thoughts—

Kaeya's thoughts? Simple, because it was you who was playing it, you, the person who he has fallen in love with, who never fails to make his heart race even when you just spare a glance at him, and you, who has amazed him in more ways than one. He slept soundly to the tune of your melody, dreaming about you, and he wondered, are you dreaming about him too?

26052021 , © kachuuyaa | do not claim my work as your own.

not proofread.

[rosyfingereddawnn]

spellbound

pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of substances, one (1) swear and a little nsfw at the end

words: 3k

summary: when in new orleans, there’s always something new and exciting to experience. when the boys take shelter in a quaint jazz lounge, they discover a hidden gem.

author’s note: this was an idea born from @timetraveller4 and her lovely mind, so thank you for that ash <3 no beta as always, and i really hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

It was Bonzo’s idea, originally.

The drummer had proposed that the band, accompanied, of course, by the infamous Richard Cole, go to a lounge for the night. See what the music scene was like, outside of their little bubble.

Touring had become almost monotonous, the endless flow of groupies blending into a hazy background of alcohol and drugs. They were in New Orleans for the night, and needed a release from the antics; a release of pressure.

Walking along the cobbled streets, lit only by tall, blinding streetlights, the hunt for the perfect spot continued. Rain twinkled like stardust upon them, landing in their hair and falling down their backs. Jimmy shivered, burrowing further into his coat, a rich navy blue, butterflies made of sparkling sequins fluttering across his shoulders. Cigarette dangling from lush, pink lips, he sighed out a faint white cloud of smoke. His long, dark hair stuck to his face and neck, and a swear burst past his lips. His curls hid emerald eyes from view like a curtain of darkness, and he shook his head.

It’ll be fun, he said. Don’t worry about it, he said. Just relax.

Robert, unaware of the glare the raven-haired guitarist was sporting, strolled ahead, eyes catching on a glowing sign, slick with rain and slightly weather-beaten. The place must be old, he thought.

Sliding closer, he gazed up at it, ocean eyes squinting against the rain that seemed to pour harder, faster, the further they ventured from their hotel. The sign, neon lights blurring into haloes of colour, read ‘The Whispering Wind’. Underneath sat a truly artistic rendition of wispy winds fading into a cloud, the pure ivory of its light cascading across the damp sidewalk like a graceful stream. You could almost feel the warmth and hospitality behind the closed doors, and Robert, whose smile seemed to light the path better than any streetlamp could, turned to his companions.

“This looks like a fine place, doesn't it?”

“Let’s go inside. Better than staying out here,” Jonesy replied, slipping past the singer to grasp at the ornate golden handle of the mahogany door. The bassist pulled the door open and stepped through, and almost immediately, he was enveloped by the comforting heat that seemed to settle into his chilled bones. “Definitely better.”

One by one, the boys stepped into the lounge, smiling as they took in the atmosphere. By the door sat a long bar, maple wood shining in the dim light filtering out from the fixtures hanging from above. Paintings of old Hollywood royalty decorated the taupe walls, while a spotlight affixed to the ceiling bathed the wooden surface of the stage against the wall in faint yellow light. The ruby red of the curtains complimented the exposed maroon brick of the opposite wall, and booths, with scarlet upholstery streaked through with pristine gold, littered the floor.

It was cramped and dimly lit, certainly not fit for the rock gods it sheltered. It was perfect.

Jimmy stood just outside the door, taking a final drag of the cigarette burning between his lips. Glancing around the cove of the entryway, his eyes locked onto a poster plastered across the wet brick of the building. The silhouette of a woman stood against a simple black background, gripping a microphone stand in manicured hands, mystery and class in the subtle curve of her lips. Half of her body was painted in a silvery light, and Jimmy stared at the long crimson dress she was wearing. Tantalizingly long legs are just visible from the slit that splits the gown.

In bold white lettering, a collection of dates are scrawled across its surface, but it’s the name that rippled across the paper that caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Hm…”

Must be tonight’s performer, he thought. She’s gorgeous, from what Jimmy could tell; the sultry gaze, the teasing uptick of her rosy lips. The guitarist just hoped that she’s as talented as she is beautiful.

Jimmy let the cigarette in his hands drop to the floor, crushing it under his heel, smoky ash mingling with the scent of petrichor. Grasping the frigid metal of the door handle, the man’s ebony curls flew in every direction as he shivered once more. Slipping through the open door, a wave of comfort rushed over him, warmth settling into his core. The light din of unimportant conversation settled over him like a plush blanket, calming his perpetually racing mind.

Jimmy, spotting his friends at a table far back from the stage, sidled up to the bar, signalling for attention. Ordering his favourite of gin and tonic, the dark-haired guitarist walked back over to join the group, sitting down right next to Robert. The blond glanced over at him and grinned, wrapping a tanned arm around his shoulders.

“It’s a wonder you’ve stopped frowning, Pagey.”

“I was warned I’d get stuck like that, you see,” Jimmy grumbled, the hint of a smile that graced his lips shattering the image of dissatisfaction. “Hasn’t happened yet, but who knows what the future holds.”

“Ah. If it weren’t for your sunny disposition, we’d be in trouble.”

“You—”

The retort died on his tongue, and his mossy green eyes went impossibly wide.

An alluring voice, smooth and rich, rang clear and sharp through the air, charming the patrons of the lounge. The rasping tone made Jimmy’s mind go utterly blank, too entranced to react. Mingling with the droplets that danced from the black grand piano, the performer made his heart pound in his chest like a bass drum. Shaking Robert’s arm off, he turned to face the stage, and promptly forgot how to breathe.

“I put a spell on you, because you're mine. Oh, mine…”

Up on the stage, stood the most beautiful woman Jimmy had ever seen. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, a lovely contrast to the skin of her exposed shoulder. The woman fluttered around the stage, her dress, the colour of a midnight sky, swaying as she moved. She was full to the brim with restrained confidence: she knew she could dazzle the audience, but really, she didn't need to. They were already eating out of her palm.

Jaws hit the floor and every eye in the room was firmly trained on her, and the graceful smirk painting her features served as proof. She was a siren, and the audience her doomed admirers. Jimmy couldn't tear his eyes away through the whole performance, and his distracted clapping as she curtsied alerted his bandmates.

“You okay, Jim? Looks to me like,” Bonzo started, glancing over at Robert with mischief shining in his dark eyes, “You’ve got yourself a little crush, no?”

“I’m… She’s just—”

“Perfect? Gorgeous, talented,” Jonesy interrupted, catching the guitarist’s attention. A smug grin at home on his lips, the bassist shrugged, turning to face his friend. “And… standing right over there.”

Following the path pointed out by Jonesy’s outstretched finger, Jimmy’s eyes locked on a familiar figure, floor-length gown shimmering in the dim light. Stood at the bar, she rested her arms on the surface as she leaned closer to talk to the bartender. Throwing her head back in a genuine laugh, she bares her throat, and Jimmy’s mouth goes dry. The performer takes the drink offered to her, a glass filled with what looks to be whiskey in her manicured hands. A finger lazily traced the rim. The beautiful woman turned towards them then, locking eyes with the guitarist over her shoulder. She winked, and walked away, a ring of condensation on the tabletop all that was left of her.

“Hey, Cole,” Jimmy whispered into the silence that had fallen over the table, and turned to the man, whose only response was a telling smirk. “Would you… Could you, uh…”

“On it, boss.”

In a split second, the man shuffled away from the table, his parting gift a wink at the sable-haired guitarist.

------

As you step on stage, the crowd’s chatter continues, and you smile to yourself. Nights at The Whispering Wind were always like this: the snippets of conversation fading into a symphony of white noise. It calms you, being so used to the bustling New Orleans streets. This is a little slice of paradise, in your eyes.

You flatten down your dress, velvet soft against your hand, and gaze over to your pianist. Nodding back, he launches in, soft at first, but crescendoing soon after. His hand raised in the air, he looks over to you.

Your cue.

You take a deep breath, lungs filling with smoky air, and sing your heart out. Light and shade battle for dominance as you play the audience like a fiddle. Your voice, full of lust and desire, floats around the room, and you smirk to yourself, looking at the sea of faces in front of you. Everything is hazy, the spotlights blurring your vision, but you can swear someone is staring at you. A man, it looks like. His dark hair shines in the faded light, and his eyes sparkle with intelligence and, interestingly enough, appreciation. It takes effort to tear your eyes away from him, but you succeed, and belt out the last line. Your smile rivals the bright lights shining down on you, and you curtsy. The cheers of the audience serves as your soundtrack, as you step off stage, scurrying over to the bar. It takes a special effort not to gaze at the mystery man as you pass.

“Lovely evening for a drink, isn’t it? I’ll have whiskey, neat.”

“Coming right up, Madam,” The bartender winks at you, a smile blossoming on your face. He sets the drink into your waiting hands, and leans against the counter, smirking at you kindly. “Wonderful show, tonight. You’re a talent, my dear.”

“Well, thank you,” you reply, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. Your smile grows brighter, and your giggle is featherlight as it floats past your lips, “It’s what I love to do.”

Your conversation is interrupted by the sounds of whispers from behind you, and you look over your shoulder. Those eyes, the bright shade of green you had seen from the stage, were looking right back at you. He looks shy, nervous even, almost hiding behind his tawny-haired friend. From your spot at the bar, you can tell, now, just how handsome he truly is. His dark hair falls in tastefully mussed curls, and his skin looks clear, almost like porcelain. His lips are petal-pink, and look soft. His jaw is sharp, and he’s rather thin; scrawny even, but he’s still gorgeous.

Holding his gaze, you wink, and his eyes go impossibly wider. You tip the bartender and walk away, a “thank you” thrown over your shoulder. A safe distance away from the mystery man and his posse, you chance a look back, and spot a man standing from the table, patting the black-haired beauty on the back. To your surprise, he weaves through the crowd towards you.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he says, catching up to you. He smooths down his button-up shirt, and sends a charming grin your way, holding out a hand to shake. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Y/N. And yours, if I may?”

“Richard Cole.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Cole?” This is met by a chuckle from the man, his hand going up to stroke his dark beard.

“Well, lovely, do you see that man over there, with the black hair?” You follow his outstretched hand, and your eyes fall upon your mystery man. He’s looking back at you, hands fiddling with each other. His gaze finally drops from yours, and the tell-tale blush rising on his cheeks makes you laugh softly. “He’d love to have a chat with you.”

“If he wants to talk to me, he can come over here himself and tell me that.”

Cole chuckles, and shakes his head fondly. Glancing over at the mystery man, he waves him over. From your spot, you can see the way he approaches on shaky legs, and you smile, recognizing him instantly. With a pat on the back of the curly-haired man, Mr. Cole is gone, and you're alone together. This is going to be fun.

“What’s your name, darling?” You ask, though you already know the answer. It’s not every day that a world-famous musician stops by ‘The Whispering Wind’, after all.

“I-it’s Jimmy… uh, Page.” His hands, you notice, are clenched into fists, and he shuffles from foot to foot. You press closer to him, and he blushes harder, cheeks almost aflame.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jimmy. I’m—”

“You’re Y/N, aren't you? I saw the poster outside, and I thought you were beautiful,” Breath hitching as he realizes what he just said, Jimmy slaps a hand over his mouth. His emerald eyes signal that he’s embarrassed, but you can only giggle. “I only meant that—”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Jimmy’s thin hand flies up to scratch the top of his head, and his hair falls in his face, effectively blocking him from view. You can see the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you. I, uh… you’re an amazing vocalist. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, your stage presence was… arresting.”

“So you admit to staring at me?”

“Well, I… You…”

I’m just playing, Jimmy,” Your laugh twinkles as it fills the silence, and Jimmy’s lips quirk up in a small smile upon hearing it. “If anything, I should be the one staring. Led Zeppelin’s a big deal, y’know.”

“You… you recognized me?”

“You boys aren't exactly rising stars. Being as famous as you are, I didn’t think you’d be this humble.”

He chuckles under his breath, and looks up at you through his eyelashes. It seems he’s grown more confident now, and you smile, gaze drifting down to his mouth. If you leaned in, just a little, your lips would meet, and you could finally know if his are as soft as they look.

“We’re in New Orleans for another day, uh… I was wondering if, well… God, I’m terrible at this.”

“Jimmy—”

“Could I… take you out, sometime?” His halting, nervous speech only makes him more endearing, and you gaze into his eyes as he squirms. Jimmy sputters, trying to take his words back, but you silence him with a hand on his bicep. Lean muscle ripples under your hand, and you smile at him.

“Jimmy.”

“Oh God, I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I? J-just forget what I said, I don’t know what—”

“It’s—”

“Seriously, it was probably a mistake to ask you that. I mean,” Jimmy’s head droops, hair shielding him once more, and you can’t help the fondness that rushes through you. Unaware of the smile that nearly splits your cheeks, he presses on, hands flying back and forth to prove his point, “You’re absolutely divine, and I’m just— Uh...”

Close enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, you put a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his coat. Your fingers catch slightly on the bedazzled butterflies that adorn it. His eyes follow your hands as they dance and twirl across the fabric, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath echo in the slight space between the two of you. A lone finger finally finds his chin, and you lift his head to look at you.

“Eyes on me, chéri.”

His gorgeous green eyes meet yours from under his curly fringe, and you push a stray lock to rest behind his ear. His cheeks redden even more, something you hadn’t thought possible, as he stares into your eyes.

Pressing close to him, his scent surrounds you, and your lips brush against the curve of his ear.

“Tu veux un rendez-vous? Tu dois travailler pour cela, chéri.”

You pull away, and he is left with the ghost of soft lips against his cheek, the scent of your perfume floating after you as you walk away. Jimmy stands in place, too stunned to even react, until a hand at his back makes him jump. Glancing over his shoulder, he spots his bandmates, smirks at home on their faces. Jonesy pipes up, looking him up and down.

“You okay, Page? You’re looking pretty red…”

“It seems, and correct me if I’m wrong,” interjects Bonzo, as he slips an arm around Jimmy, guiding him back to their table. Jimmy slumps into a chair, stunned into silence, a hand raising to his cheek. Bonzo chuckles, and continues, “Like your crush just got a lot more serious.”

------

Safe behind the door of his hotel room, Jimmy trudges to the bathroom to turn on the shower. Slipping out of his clothes, that he folds neatly on the bed, the guitarist steps in. Steam curls in tendrils around the small bathroom, and Jimmy takes a deep breath. Hand settling on his cock, he begins stroking it slowly; experimentally. The pleasure feels incredible, euphoric even, as his mind drifts to the intriguing woman he had met just an hour ago. Her image is seared into his mind, and every touch she had given him felt like a wildfire licking at his skin. His groans match the speed of his hand as he speeds up, gripping the tiled wall for support.

The scent of her perfume, something floral, unplaceable, lingered in his nose, and he wishes to see her again. To have that scent invade all of his senses, again. Jimmy’s whimpers, quiet, yet keening, echo off the walls, as he reaches his peak. He imagines her there with him, raking a hand roughly through his hair, her hands roaming every inch of skin they could reach.

His muscles twitch as warmth spills over his hand, a soft grunt slipping past his gritted teeth. He’s in ecstasy, something better than any drug. Something he doesn’t ever want to come down from.

As he recovers from the high he had just experienced, his gasping breaths fill the space. Knees trembling from exertion, he grips onto the slippery shower wall, and whispers into the steam that fills the room.

“Y/N…”

------

(the french sentence: you want a date? you have to work for that, darling)

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages (let me know if you want to be added!)

[sunjaesol]

we’re dancing under the rain

canon compliant juke | fluff! | inspiration: rain // ben platt

Julie wondered if one day, she could stop loving. Because damn - it hurt. It hurt to love so much and continuously have her heart be broken. Love and heartache cycled through her life like a never ending train and the girl was in a constant battle of wanting to shut down or give it another chance. 

She always chose the latter, obviously, but that hurt too. The price she needed to pay to have such meaningful friendships. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have become a family with a trio of ghosts and an adjacent skater ghost. The problem of caring so much was when the heart got involved, when that heart beat a second too fast, too willingly, too adoringly. 

It made her vulnerable, her heart jumping out of her chest to sync with the other person and then getting crushed instead. This time, it cut her particulary deep. 

Nick broke up with her. 

A puffy-eyed Julie sat huddled in the studio under a blanket. He did it during lunch. All of a sudden, he pulled her aside into the hallway, told her they didn’t quite fit together and that it was better if they broke up. He pretended like she had a say in it, though it was clear he already made up his mind. Which was even worse, Julie found. Nick had thought about it before, probably more than once. His words made her feel like a fool. There she was, thinking their relationship was going smooth, getting squashed a minute after that: no, actually, it’s not going smoothly and you’re probably in denial so let’s end it now.

Later, she’d probably thank him for ripping the band-aid. She was now allowed to be heartbroken.    

Outside, rain was slamming against the pavement. That was the only good thing about the situation; the weather deciding to match her mood and mourn with her.

Luke poofed in with his signature grin, lips shaping to blurt out a story and then crashing into a frown when he saw the state she was in. 

“Jules?”

Wordlessly, she covered her tear-stained cheeks with the blanket. She hated it when people - especially Luke - caught her at her lowest. The boys were dead, she couldn't really complain about minor inconveniences when the only reason they were breathing was out of habit. 

The couch dipped at her feet. A careful hand patted her calf. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. 

“Yes, cause that’s what I do when nothing’s wrong.” His voice was light, though a keen ear like hers could sense the hint of concern. “I cry.”

Julie huffed, pulling the blanket back to scowl at him. “Nick broke up with me. But it’s whatever because it clearly wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was to me, so-” Shrugging, she sat upright and wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “It is nothing.”

Her fingers combed through her hair, trying to relieve the heat bugging her skin. God, she just wanted this day to be over with. She didn’t want to rehearse and do homework and eat dinner and pretend everything was dandy. She just wanted to cry and sleep and not have Luke’s stupidly green eyes drown in pity. 

“That sucks though,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her lips rolled inwards, a smile forming despite her mood. “Not your fault.” Their gazes met. It felt new, somehow. “My heart is just… too open, I guess.”

Luke tapped her calf again, mirth lilting his tone. “Still not a bad thing. It was cool in the 90s and it’s cool now. He’s an idiot for not going crazy over it.”

“My open heart?”, she chuckled. 

“Yeah.” A beat. His eyes haven’t wavered. “Or you. In general.”

The smile bloomed to a full grin, a sliver of levity easing the ache in her chest. Why did he always know what to say? Granted, he used to be horrible at cheering her up, when she was fifteen and sadness lingered in her every move, but he got the hang of it after two years. A reassuring kiss on her temple before a stressful gig, a particularly uplifting speech during band circle, a new tune he came up with when he knew she didn’t feel like talking. Her teenage girl melodrama unfazed him. 

Luke met her halfway for a tight hug. It was the most comfortable place to be; her cheek on his shoulder and his arms holding her so securely and how, after all they’ve been through, his 90s cologne smelled like home. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Some ghost girl is going to be so happy you’ve had practise dealing with me.”

He snorted. “Ah, yes. My harem of ghost girls. The, uh, market is really big for me.”

It wasn’t something they often discussed. It became clear that the boys weren’t going to cross over any time soon (if crossing over was even a thing, or the thing they thought it would be) and had time to settle into a long afterlife. Willie had been wandering around since the seventies and only now found Alex, so who knew how long Luke and Reggie would have to wait until they met their ghost-mate. It was a sad thought, but at least they had each other and music and the band. 

There was also the minor problem that Luke sometimes had this look on his face, usually fixed on her, that left little to the interpretation. It hasn’t happened in a while, but every so often…

It kind of made her breathless. Whatever. It was dumb. Those feelings have long been buried. The point was that he should look at ghost girls like that - not her.   

(A month after The Orpheum, they sat side by side behind the grand piano as they belted out a new song they’ve been working on, her fingers expertly gliding across the keys and slamming on those that needed that extra power. Julie was fully entranced, head thrown back and smiling through the lyrics as their voices reached a beautiful harmony no one could compete with. The last note drifted across the studio. When she turned to look at him, she expected to see the same grin. Instead, Luke gave her such a tender look, close, and let his doe eyes wander past her nose. Had Reggie not poofed in, she didn’t know if she would’ve had the restraint to not give in. To not be selfish. It was years ago, but she thought about it each time he joined her at the piano. It was the price for friendship, Julie often reminded herself. For an eternal bond.) 

Rain kept drumming into the ground. It sounded like a million ping pong balls fell onto the roof at an incredible speed. 

Luke pulled away and shot a look outside. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Julie nodded. “I made a deal with God today. If I cry, the world does too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

The smile stuck to her cheeks. Luke only needed a few minutes to lift her spirits. Tears didn’t even well up anymore. Was that bad? That one the same day, just in the afternoon, she already felt a bit better? She decided to not mull on the why.

“Wanna dance in the rain?”

She blinked. “What?”

He matched her smile, throwing his thumb at the doors. “Do you wanna dance in the rain?”

It was as if her brain wasn’t processing his words. “What? Why?”

“Why not?”, he shrugged. “You feel like shit, it never rains in LA and it’s fun.”

Quiet excitement coursed through her veins, the thrill pushing energy back in her bloodstream. Why not? The expectant twinkle in his eye brought colour to her face, jumping off the couch pulling him up with her. His whooping got her to laugh. It almost surprised her; she hasn’t properly laughed at all today. 

They each pulled one sliding door open, their ears instantly bombarded with noise. It was the hardest downpour of the year! 

“No running for cover!”, he yelled above the loud rushing of rain.     

She stuck her pinky out. “Only if you won’t!”  

And then they stepped in the rain. They were drenched straight away, a squeal erupting from her lips as the coldness crept between her clothes. He laughed, raking his hair back and leaping into a puddle. Water splashed around him. 

His voice bellowed through the sound. “C’mon!”

It spurred her into action, his laugh replaying in her head over and over again, as her head lolled back and began to twirl in circles. Faster and faster, giggles tumbling out as felt herself becoming one with the rain. This was exactly what she needed. A moment of silliness and unconditional joy! 

Luke was dancing like a maniac next to her, feet kicking and arms outstretched. She found herself staring at his profile, how bliss broke the lines in his face and caused a crescendo of glee to overcome him. It was mesmerising. Julie found herself slowing down, taken aback by the hope rising in her chest at the mere sight of him. 

What she hoped for, she didn’t know. (She did. She just couldn’t admit it just yet.) 

As if sensing her thoughts, Luke caught her eye with and yanked her into the dance without a second of hesitation. They spun around, hands intertwined and arms outstretched, daring to see how long they could keep going before one dropped from dizziness. Julie wasn’t afraid though. Luke would never let her fall. 

They let go just as they were losing balance, snickering like fools and trying to find footing again. Julie jumped onto his back, him instantly jostling her around until she got chucked off like a sack of potatoes. Each grin and laugh and crack of thunder mended her heart, slipping the pieces back together and allowing it to bloom once more. Keep on breaking, keep on loving, keep on hoping, keep on hoping for-

Luke locked his hands around the small of her back. “Ready?!”

He didn’t have to ask twice, their steps speeding up as she threw her arms beside her and then, at their fastest, pulled one leg up to swing in his hold. How she didn’t slip on the soaking wet ground was a miracle. 

Julie’s smile rivalled his, grabbing onto the lapels of his shacket to get him closer. He had something else in mind, hands slipping to her waist and launching her in the sky in one fluid motion. It took her breath away, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders and yelling her lungs out. It was just like in her dreams. Was it selfish of her to have yearned for this? 

(She felt it. The way her heart washed away all the troubles, how the numbing cold shrivelled to make place for someone else.)   

They shouted exclaims and curses into the rain. About Nick, about music, about each other, about how fucking unfair life could be, but damn - moments like these were worth the pain.  

Her drenched curls tickled his face, causing him to sputter and attract her focus. Julie looked down at him and didn’t stop the heartstopping smile growing on her face. Oh. 

Her fingers swiped against the planes of his cheeks, his grin beaming up at her and letting the dormant wildfire (snug between her ribs, among the flowers and the lyrics) come alive again. For so long, she hasn’t allowed herself to feel it. But how could she not when Luke propelled her into the storm itself, unify them like the whirlwind of passion they authentically were? 

They were the thunder and the lightning, the silver lining and the punch line - the dancers in the rain. 

He gently set her down, feet splashing. She didn’t let him pull away, instantly wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his wet shirt. They smelled like wet dogs and it was better than any perfume she’s ever had. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

His head settled on top of hers, cool breath fanning her skin. “I can’t have you down in the gutter, Jules. Ever.”

I love you. “Ever?”

She felt him move, her eyes tilting to meet his. That expression she cherished deeply returned tenfold. His tender smile, the green hooded by shy eyes, an incredulous hitch of the breath. 

Luke nodded, flitting gaze as if he didn’t quite know what to focus on, and carefully brushed a droplet from her cheek. “Ever.” 

(Julie got a cold the next day. It didn’t matter - she had the boy of her dreams to keep her company.) 

Breathe deep, let it wash over you We're slowly becoming lovers I promise you we won't be like the others We won't go running for cover

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @sophiphi​ @unsaidjulie​

[fictionadventurer]

The Dust That Falls From Passing Stars: Part 1/3

Snow clouds covered the midnight sky, but it seemed the stars were all down here tonight. Stars poured light from street lamps onto snow-covered cobblestones.The glowing heavenly stones glimmered from the coats and necklaces of the wealthy theatre patrons who bundled into plush carriages.  A star even glowed at Lorenz’s throat—a bright green star in a cloak pin that would grant him entry to the House Diriks ball. Once, such a pin would have been an impossible dream, but in his year of fame, wearing it had become almost routine.

In a crowd as grand as this, there was no chance of finding a cab in the after-show rush. Better to walk the eight blocks than stand like a beggar in the snow.

A voice from the street called, “Fortuin!”

Snow crunched beneath Lorenz’s boots as he stopped in white glow of a star lamp. He lifted his top hat and saw a hatless man in a blue silk suit leaning out of a carriage caught in the crush of traffic.

Lorenz acknowledged him with a wide-armed wave. “Evening, Coeman.”

The star jeweler’s son’s eyes had an alcohol glaze. “Look at you!” he crowed. “All dressed up for a party!”

Lorenz and Coeman were both shopkeeper’s sons, but that was like saying a hovel and a palace were both houses. Lorenz came from a long line of grocers, while wealth fell from the heavens onto Coeman’s family lands. Coeman was ever amused by those who worked for their living.

Coeman cried, “Did the lady unchain you from the piano?”

Lorenz gave a thin smile. “Even genius needs refreshment.”

Coeman laughed. “Only you’d call a walk in a snowstorm refreshing.”

The light dusting of flakes could scarcely be called a shower, much less a storm, though it probably seemed like one compared to the plush comfort of a starfall family’s carriage.

Lorenz shrugged, then smiled, pretending indifference. “I’ll get there faster than you.”

He strode away, leaving Coeman and his carriage stuck in the crush of traffic.

From the street, voices shouted, horses wickered, wheels clattered upon cobblestones, and Lorenz wove among the hoop skirts and overcoats of his fellow sidewalk pedestrians. As Lorenz turned a corner, his cloak billowed, and a hand caught upon the hem and held him fast.

He stopped, then looked down into the dirt-covered face of a ragged young girl, a small, shapeless form somewhere between eight and eighteen, who sat in the gutter holding a small jar of glittering dirt.

She lifted it toward Lorenz’s hand. “Stardust, sir? Two pennies a pinch.”

Even if he had a cigarette to light or needed his hands warmed, the girl’s stardust wouldn’t have done anything—it was ten times more dirt than dust. Incompetent even for a dustgirl.

He yanked his cloak out of her hand, but pity soon overcame his annoyance, and he dropped a silver krenin in the girl’s lap.

Her eyes shone as if he’d tossed her the star at his throat. “God bless you, sir.”

Lorenz tipped his hat and strode away. A bit of blessing and a lot of hard work had brought him to his current heights. He loved that success gave him the means to become one of those towering figures of generosity that so lifted up the downtrodden.

That lofty feeling carried him all the way to the entrance of House Diriks. The house’s towering gray façade dominated the street, a castle within the city limits, built to with all the embellishments of current architectural fashion. Crystalline windows gushed starlight into the cold and dark of the city, illuminating the arriving guests. The carriages were like wheeled palaces, and the people coming out of them wore silks and velvets and furs that glistened in the glow of the stars they wore on their necks and ears and hands.

In that colored crowd, there was one spot of brown. A ragged girl, older than the one Lorenz had seen near the theater, held a small clay jar that faintly glimmered with stardust. Yet she didn’t offer the ladies stardust to adorn their faces and necks, didn’t approach the gentlemen with an offer to light a cigar. Instead, she scurried away, her eyes on some distant destination.

Very strange. What dustgirl would waste such an opportunity? These people would carry her week’s salary as pocket change, and would likely throw a good portion of it at her feet just to keep her from coming too near. She hadn’t been chased away, and she hadn’t so much as looked at the crowd. Leaving could only mean she had better plans in mind, and Lorenz, his curiosity piqued, decided to discover them.

He trailed her along the house’s western wing, sticking to the shadows between the glowing windows. Wide balconies extended from all the rooms on the upper floor, all filled with laughing, chattering party-goers who glowed in the light of the stars they wore. Aestus stars glimmered like flames to warm their lightly gloved hands. A hundred colors of decorative stars adorned necklaces, tiaras, earrings, cuff links, and were even sewn directly into ball gowns and suit coats. A thousand captured constellations that made it look as though their wearers had fallen from the heavens.  

The winter winds blew scraps of stardust from their finery. It whirled in the wind, blew over the balcony, and scattered on the sidewalk below. This shower—not the spectacle above—drew the dustgirl’s eyes, and she knelt on the snow-slicked stone beneath it, scraping with cold-chapped hands on the ground as she raced to gather as much stardust as possible into her battered clay jar.

Lorenz found himself entranced by the tableau—the bright and laughing elite above and the earthy desperation below. There was cruelty here, but also beauty, something that pierced deep into the true nature of things in a way that he rarely considered. He could make a lyric out of this—not one of his light, theatrical pieces, but a real and honest piece of poetry. The complacent rich who wore the heavens at their hearts without a thought, and a girl who thought herself fortunate to gather up the crumbs. A downtrodden soul who scratched in the dirt, yet came up covered in the dust of the stars.

When the ground had been cleared of its heavenly bounty, the girl turned her attention to the still-falling flakes. Could she capture it all, Lorenz wondered. How would she separate the stardust from the falling snow?

As if in answer, she unwound her ragged cloak from her shoulders and spread it like a net between her arms. Half the flakes faded within moments of landing on the fabric. Lorenz’s heart flared in admiration as he caught the trick of it. Her body-warmed cloak melted the snowflakes, leaving her with a haul of pure stardust cleaner than anything that could be gathered by any other dustgirl in the city.

He felt a strange connection to this girl, who took such pride in doing such a humble job so well. He’d never looked at a dustgirl with anything other than pity, or perhaps relief that his family had never fallen so low. But here was courage, enterprise, intelligence, and Lorenz found it more inspiring than anything he’d seen from tonight’s crowd of starfall elites.

As the girl bobbed and weaved beneath the stardust shower, a deep-voiced shout shattered the peace.

“You! Girl!” A thick-limbed guard in the blue and silver of the House Diriks staff raced toward her, boots clattering. “Get gone, you filthy scavenger!”

The tableau shattered. The girl crushed her cloak to her chest and tried to run, face white with panic. As she pivoted, her foot slipped on a patch of ice and she landed on the ground in a tangle of limbs.  

“Get gone!” the guard shouted again. “We don’t need rat-thieves crawling ‘round!”

The girl scrambled into a sitting position, but still failed to find her feet. The guard removed a thick cudgel from beneath his cloak and drew his arm back for a blow.

Before Lorenz could think, he stepped out of the shadows, grabbed the girl’s shoulders, and pulled her out of the path of the descending club. She slid easily on the ice, and the guard stumbled as his cudgel met empty air. As the guard flailed to keep his balance, his weapon caught Lorenz on the shoulder.

Lorenz barely felt it through his anger. He unbent himself and demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?”

The guard found his feet, but his tongue faltered, stunned as he stared at this unexpected gentleman. “My…apologies, sir. I didn’t see…”

“Is this how you treat innocent women? Beatings and blows?”

The guard snapped, “She’s a thieving scavenger, sir.”

At his feet, the shivering girl looked at the ground, ashamed in a way she hadn’t been while gathering the stardust, as if the guard’s words had the power to turn her into the very thing he claimed she was.

It reminded Lorenz of some of the things that had been said about him in his early days in high society. It softened his heart and hardened his resolve. He’d do what he could to make the guard look at this girl with the respect she deserved. With all the indignation he felt, he shouted, “A thief, sir? She is my guest!”

Lorenz squared his shoulders, straightened some folds in his cloak, and loosed the cloakpin at his throat to show it to the guard. The silver setting bore the crossed swords and crescent moon of the House Diriks crest, and the center of it held a polished fragment of a glowing green star. “I am Lorenz Karel Fortuin, and my patron is Lady Diriks herself.”

The guard gazed at the pin, his face growing white. “That’s real.”

“It is.”

“And this girl is your guest?”

Thankfully, the night’s shadows hid details. Lorenz draped his now-unfastened cloak over the girl before the guard could get a better look at her clothes.

Lorenz murmured to the girl in soothing tones. “I told you to dress warmer, Anya.” Anya was a good name—vague enough to apply to peasant or princess.

As the shock passed, the guard grew more truculent. “Why was she gathering stardust?”

Lorenz asked, “What girl could resist a glittering starshower? It’s not illegal—fair falling stardust is public property.”

The guard didn’t seem quite convinced, so Lorenz turned his attention to the girl. He examined her face, crusted with sweat and snowflakes, cheeks chapped red from the cold. Her mouth was hanging open in surprise, and her brown eyes were wide with shock and hope. “Has he hurt you?” Lorenz asked.

“No,” she said.

“I’m glad of it,” he said gently. Then he turned back to the guard and snapped, “You ought to be glad of it, too. Harming a guest of House Diriks? Your lady would not be pleased.”

The guard’s pale, slack face suggested that he understood all too well what he’d escaped.

Lorenz helped the girl to her feet. She was taller than he’d realized, but impossibly thin. Swathed in his cloak, she looked breakable as glass.

“Stand tall,” he whispered, and when she stood more like a frightened lady than a battered street urchin, he escorted her past the baffled guard.

The guard watched them go with narrowed eyes, and Lorenz cast one cautious glance back toward the balcony. Most of the crowd stood heedless of the scene below, but a few sharp eyes followed Lorenz and his guest. Fortunately, he had plenty of experience in crafting scenes for balcony crowds.

Lorenz led the girl toward the house’s main doors and urged her toward the white silver-veined marble of the main staircase. “Let’s get you inside.”

She gave him a sharp, shrewd glance, more like her old self with the guard out of reach. “What are you doing, sir?”

Her words held a hundred other questions. Who are you? Why are you helping me? What are your intentions? He couldn’t hope to answer them with the eyes of House Diriks upon them.

“I’m helping you,” he whispered. He gestured in the guard’s direction with his eyes. “Until he’s out of the way.”

She took a step away from his side, and for a moment, Lorenz thought she’d bolt with his best cloak. But she merely examined him, top to toe, and seemed to come to some internal decision. “Thank you, sir,” she said, and started up the stairs.

The great blue doors opened before her, granting them entrance into the warmth and light of the House Diriks foyer. Lorenz bustled his guest past the outstretched hands of the attendants and toward a fireplace set between the curving staircases. She stared wide-eyed at everything they passed.

Lorenz smiled at her. “What do you think?”

“So bright,” the girl breathed.

Hardly fine poetry, but not an uncommon reaction upon entering the Dirik’s family’s city home. The Diriks House starfall was the prime landing place for solara stars—the largest and brightest that fell to Earth, with the purest, whitest light. Their decorations emphasized it on this dark midwinter night, with the crowning glory of a silver-limbed chandelier, holding half a thousand stars. Their light glinted off the silver veins in the marble flooring and the gilding in the deep blue wallpaper, sparkled on the bits of snow that swirled through the doors and brightened the eyes of the dustgirl guest who stared in wonder at it all.

He brought her to a wooden chair near the fireplace, hidden behind a marble pillar holding a bust of a House Diriks founder.

Here in the light, he could finally get a good look at her. She was thin and slight, but she was older than he’d realized—twenty at least, with softness to her face but a shrewdness in her eyes that hinted at experiences that had aged her further. Her hair was that indeterminate color between yellow and brown, wrapped in a ragged crown around her head. Her nose was dripping from the cold—he offered her a handkerchief before she wiped it on his cloak—and her eyes were as bright and green as the star in his House Diriks cloak pin.

“Are you well?” Lorenz asked her. “You took a nasty tumble.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” she said, speaking for the first time in more than a whisper. Her accent flattened and elongated her vowels—as stereotypical a specimen of the city’s lower classes as he’d ever heard. Lorenz had worked long and hard to train similar—though never so strong—tics out of his own voice.

“Did you keep the dust?” he asked.

Her dark eyes flashed. “It’s mine by right. I didn’t steal it. It fell fair, right to the ground.”

He dampened a smile. “I don’t plan to take it from you. The law’s on your side, so long as you didn’t knock anyone down to shake it loose.”

“I didn’t,” she insisted.

“There you go.” He couldn’t keep a lilt of amusement from his tone.

The girl caught it and scowled. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I told you. To get you away from the guard.”

“What’s that matter to a gentleman like you?”

He understood her suspicions. Many among the upper classes had little patience with their inferiors. “I guess I’m not as much of a gentleman as I appear.”

She went white, and seemed to try to fuse herself to the back of her chair.

“No!” Lorenz gasped, realizing the double meaning too late. He felt ill at the thought. “That was not an innuendo. I have no ungentlemanly intent toward you.”

The terror in the girl’s eyes changed to something livelier and more glittering. Almost as though she was laughing at him. “Don’t fret, sir. I believe you.”

Gruff with embarrassment, he said, “I only meant that I wasn’t born to this world.” Wasn’t much above a dustgirl myself when I started out.”

That amusement changed to interest. “That so, sir?”

He puffed up a little. “Rose through my own merit.”

“And you got a starfall lady’s crest. Is she sweet on you?”

Lorenz tried and failed to imagine Lady Diriks feeling tender emotions toward anyone, and felt ill at the thought of her pursuing someone so far her junior. “Lady Diriks is my patroness. I’m composer and lyricist at one of her theaters. I write showtunes, operettas.”

“They’ll pay you money for anything, these starfall swells.”

Pride wounded, Lorenz squared his shoulders. “They’re excellent songs. I’ll bet even you’ve hummed a tune or two by Lorenz Fortuin.”  

Her dark eyes stared into the distance before brightening with recognition. “That song about the lady!”

Lorenz wanted to point out this didn’t much narrow down the canon of music, but then she softly sang the first bars of a tune that was clearly “Nightingale’s Lament.” A surprisingly smooth alto.

“One of my better ones,” Lorenz said.

She smiled. “It’s pretty. I sing it to the little ones sometimes.”

“You have children?” he asked in surprise. She was old enough for it, he supposed, but not by much.

“Sisters,” she explained. “Three of ‘em. Oma watches them when I’m working.”

Supporting three young girls—and possibly, a grandmother—on pinches of stardust. It was poverty he couldn’t imagine.

He couldn’t think of anything to say in response. “I suppose,” he said, brushing the toe of one foot on the marble floor, “that you’ll need to be getting back to them.”

“Eventually,” she said, settling into her chair with a sigh. “But it’s cold out there and this fire’s so warm.” She closed her eyes, languid and content.

Her few minutes in the warmth had transformed her. The hard-edged desperation of the street had softened, and her pale, cold-chapped face had taken on a warmer glow. By now, the guard would be long gone, the balcony crowd distracted by their own amusements, but he couldn’t imagine forcing her back into those freezing streets so soon.

The girl looked at the fire, the star-filled chandelier, the skirts and furs and star necklace of a passing duchess.  “I’ll have one hell of a story to tell them at dawn.” They won’t believe the things I’ve seen.”

The words sparked a wild idea, more brilliant than the stars around them. Following the impulse, he asked,  “Would you like to see more?”

She looked at him warily. “How do you mean?”

“I really am allowed to bring a guest to these events.”

Her expression became hard and skeptical. “You want me to stay?”

“Why not?” Lorenz asked. His mind supplied a dozen answers, but his showman’s side and his romantic side teamed up against his more practical inner voice. Even a dustgirl had a right to see a glorious spectacle once in her life, and what could compare to a midwinter House Diriks ball?

The girl tugged Lorenz’s cloak around her snow-stained clothes. “For one thing, I ain’t dressed for it.”

Caught up in the excitement, his imagination spun glorious possibilities and leaped over obstacles. “House Diriks provides fully-staffed powder rooms for these parties. The maids can clean you up. Your dress will be a charmingly rustic costume.”

She looked up those stairs with longing. “Do you think so?”

A significant part of Lorenz didn’t, but it was tackled and sat upon by his more optimistic side.

“Just picture it,” Lorenz said. “The finest music, the most illustrious people. Food from the finest chefs on the continent. There are people in the city’s oldest families who can’t enter a House Diriks ball, but you could be an invited guest.”

He was drunk on the drama of it. It was madness, but such glorious madness. A melodrama fit for his finest operettas. The downtrodden dustgirl, pulled from the gutter to experience one night of luxurious enchantment. He would be her generous benefactor, her benevolent guide to this elegant world.

Her eyes sparkled in the starlight. His enthusiasm was infecting her. “You really mean it, sir?”

“I do.”

She grinned. “I’ll stay.”

He clapped his hands together in satisfaction. “Excellent! You won’t regret it.” He put his hand behind her back and began to lead her away from the seat behind the pillar. “I’ll be Lorenz to you, if you’re to be my guest. You’ll need to be Anya for the night. Those on the balcony may have overheard us.”

“That suits me,” Anya said.

He led her away from the fireplace and toward a yellow-papered door in a small alcove. “Very well, Anya. Let’s get you ready for the ball.”

[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.

[outshinethestars]

Falling Gently (Hetalia)

Life is a succession of moments, one following from another, small, ephemeral things, like dust blowing in the winds of time.  Sometimes there are no grand turning points, no transformations.  Love and growth and change occur by degrees, infinitesimally, and you are unaware of your own movement from one mode of existence to another, until the world has shifted beneath your feet, and you have found yourself somewhere new and look back.

But in that light of hindsight there are some moments suspended in memory, no more significant than those around them, perhaps, but typical of others, steps reminiscent of a journey, like lights along the path.

So, these are moments.

You are still his servant, and you hardly know him at all.

You resent him, of course you resent him.  You resent his snobbish pride, his arrogance.  You resent that you must serve him.  You have always been proud.  You resent him for having power over you.  Your practicality, though, is greater than your pride.  You are willing to bend and bend and bend so long as you do not break, because above all you refuse to break.  And so you are willing to bow to him.  Willing to reshape yourself to gain his favor, because you are determined to take from him all you can.

But, one day he is playing the piano, and you don’t think anyone has ever played anything as beautifully as he does (and you resent that but you enjoy it too.)  And he looks up at you and smiles a little, and says, “Thank you.”

Later, in memory, you will not recall what you were doing or what he is thanking you for.  It could have been any number of inconsequential things, he always is scrupulously polite.

But there is something in the way that the light hits his face, the resonance of notes fading as he pauses in his playing to speak to you.  Something in the small, soft, almost-shyness of his smile that feels so genuine.  You look at him in that moment and you think Oh.  Oh, he’s handsome, isn’t he.

You feel your cheeks heat up and you duck your head down into a curtsy and hope he doesn’t see, and mumble something polite and servantly to him before retreating from the room.

You have never had a crush before.  It strikes you as a very silly girlish sort of affliction, and if you could choose to be attracted to anyone in such a way it certainly wouldn’t be him.  

***

It is the evening after your wedding.

The marriage is one which you are amenable to, because you hope it will grant you greater power and agency.  It is a matter purely of politics, but then so are most marriages, and anything, you think, might be better than being his maid.

You are dancing with him at a ball in honor of your marriage, and you are dressed in the most beautiful and costly dress you have ever worn.  Perhaps it is the dress, or the music, or your own imagination, but when he looks at you there is a light in his eyes that usually seem so distant and cold, and you think he might be in love with you.

It catches you off guard, this thought, this fancy, the possibility, though perhaps it should not.  You have, after all, served him humbly, shaped yourself so as not to offend him.  It is not strange, in a sense, that this self which you have created, in part to please him, since embracing your womanhood, should be a person he would fall in love with. 

But you had not expected it, because before now it had never occured to you to think of him in such a way, as a man with a heart and feelings, who might fall for a girl who cleaned his house and brought him tea, who wore embroidered aprons and a flower in her hair because she thought they were pretty.

You knew he was gentle with you because he is a gentleman, but it has not occurred to you  until this moment that perhaps he likes you.

You dance.  And you see the way he moves in relation to you, observe the angles of him, how he reaches to you almost reverently, the tautness and the restraint of him.  He wants you, but he knows you do not reciprocate.  He wants you, but he will not take you by force, not when it comes to this.  He respects you.

His hands in yours are slender and smooth and soft.  They are the hands of a musician and a nobleman.  Your own hands are rough from washing and calloused from fighting with sword and bow.  You have the hands of a woman and a warrior.

When you were a girl (or a boy) you had respect only for men who were like yourself, men whose hands told the tale of their work, whose skin was touched by dirt and sun, who could hold their own in a fight.  

He is a different sort of man, one of sly intelligence and refinement.  But he has a strength and cruelty of his own.  Power is no less powerful for being won by treaties and marriage alliances than by the sword, and there is something to be said beauty and music as well.  You have come to know him well over the time you have lived in his house, and you have learned to respect him, also.

He is a gentleman and you are a lady and you dance together.  You are husband and wife, and maybe he loves you.  He respects you and you respect him and that is far more than most have.  If you must marry anyone, you are glad to have married him.  You grant him a kiss, and he blushes comically beneath your lips.

***

It is after a battle with Prussia, and he is not even there.

You and Prussia are meeting together as you often do after having torn each other to pieces in battle (or in this case, after you have torn Prussia to pieces), reminiscing and boasting and telling tall soldiers’ tales, and arguing tactics and strategy without ever giving away anything important, in the bright, comfortable way of old enemies who are also friends.

Your conversation wanders, and you tell Prussia a story involving Austria and a bit too much beer and your own slightly inebriated attempts to keep him from embarrassing himself entirely, and Prussia laughs until he winces with pain.

“Fuck, Erzsebet,” he says, “You can’t break my ribs and then tell a story like that.  It’s not fair.”

You just grin smugly at him, “It’s not my fault you’re a fucking wimp.”

“Fuck you,” he says, eyes still laughing, and the two of you descend into a companionable silence.

But then he’s looking at you, considering, in that way of his, as though he’s trying to take you apart in his mind, examining you like the inner workings of machinery that he can disassemble and put together again to understand how it works and make it better.

“Do you love him?” he asks.

The question startles you, coming from nowhere as it does.  He does not speak of such things, is not interested in feelings and relationships, or perhaps he is simply not adept at them.  It is not the sort of question he would ask, but then again, he never fails to say what he wishes to, however indelicate.  

As for you...

You are not an honest person.  Your heart is your own to govern, yours immutably in a way that little else is.  And it is such a complicated question asked so simply.  That is just like Prussia.  He is such a straight-forward person, and always demands simple answers where there are none.  But you would tell him it is none of his business, because it isn’t.  That is what you mean to say.

Except.

Except.

Perhaps it is the blue sky above you, the green grass beneath, the golden daisy you worry between your fingers.  Perhaps it is the blood under your fingernails and the warmth of triumph, the settled feeling after a satisfying battle.  In moments like this your life is brought to a point, there are no important dignitaries, no matters of state, no complications.  Regardless, you have always had little need for pretense with Prussia.  Somehow, you are without your facade in this moment, and there is no overshadowing of what ought to be, or what might be best for your purposes, only what is.  And what is is simple.

“Yes,” you say, “Yes, I do.”

Your heart pounds with the truth of it.  It is a strange revelation, and you do not know what to do with it.  Do not know where it came from, how this came to be.  But you do love him.  You do.  It is obvious in your heart, and you do not know how you never noticed it before.

“Well shit,” Prussia says, “I never took you for a madwoman.”  His tone is jokingly scornful, but his shoulders relax just a little.  He is relieved.  He is happy that you are happy, that you have not been forced into an unhappy marriage against your will all these years.

This is much more comfortable territory for you, strange as it may seem to most who know Prussia.  You had not realized he was so worried for you even still, but it is not a shocking revelation.

“It’s sweet of you to care so much,”  you say, because it is, and because you enjoy teasing him.

“Ugh,” he says, wrinkling his nose up in exaggerated disgust as his cheeks grow pink in true embarrassment, “How could you?  I don’t believe I’ve been so insulted in all my life!”  And you laugh at him cheerfully.

Love is such a strange thing, tossed on the careless waves of time, lost beneath the troubles and ambitions and concerns of life.  Fitting in to place between waking and sleeping, growing slowly in the spaces between smiles and arguments.  Moments follow moments, flitting away without trace.  You look back and try to find the thread, but it is woven so skillfully into the tapestry of time, and there is no pattern for you to grasp.  You love him.  You cannot find the reason.  Perhaps it is because he is handsome and charming, but it cannot be only that.  Perhaps it is because he loves you.  But you are not so kind hearted to let that sway you on its own.  Perhaps love is not a thing bound to reason.  Or perhaps the reasons are countless and forgotten and insignificant.  Perhaps what matters is simply what is.

Austria is your husband, and he falls asleep in your arms, and you love him. 

[prettywordsyouleft]

Aftermath // AIRFORCE7

Summary: The war was over, yet Youngjae couldn’t quite find his way forward in life even with you at his side.

Pairing: Choi Youngjae x reader (ft. GOT7 in AIRFORCE7)

Genre: pilot au / late 1940s – early 1950s era / angst / fluff

Warnings: Due to the era it’s set in, this will contain minor war conflict in some of the stories. I will not be making the war-zone my main focus in this series however. 

A/N: This story has a focus on recovery after trauma. It is dark, and may be triggering to some survivors. I tried to contain the feelings as best as I could despite the time period. Since Youngjae is known as our sunshine, I really felt this idea fitted him the best to play around with his character. Despite the high level of angst, I hope you’ll give it a go!

Once again, I’ve just edited this, so if there’s any errors, I will fix over the next couple of days.

Word count: 4132

This series will continue every Thursday until completed at 10am NZST. 

Because of the war, Youngjae had missed out on so much.

He had lost the remaining years of his teenage youth by training to be a pilot, and subsequently spent the time he had planned on studying in the air force. Those weren’t bad times, and nor did he regret them. Ultimately though, the war had travelled his way and he had spent many more years losing. Friends, time, health; when it was all done for, he was as broken as a warplane with holes in it. Sure, the plane had been repaired with sheets of new metal, more rivets punched in to hold it in place.  But the wound still sat open under the surface. Youngjae had dealt with some of the holes he received whilst flying but he was far from healed. 

He wondered if he would ever be able to forget the things he saw.

It was when he was grounded in the midst of all the chaos that he had met you and fallen in love. He had never been much of a believer in love, yet it was the first thing he could think of when he saw you for the first time. Your smile breathed new life into his tired soul, patching up those internal wounds of losing friends and his own sense of compassion. The arduous way of killing enemies and throwing damage at foreign places was placated with your gentle caresses and uplifting nature. Youngjae hadn’t laughed in years nearly as much as he did with you during those short six weeks. And so, before the next orders were sent his way, he married you in secret, the only witness to your love being the pastor in a small town church and the skies above.

It was you who made Youngjae keep fighting. To win the war and bring back peace and prosperity. He had a new future building, and he didn’t want to waste any more time in securing his dreams with you.

Yet, he still continued to miss things. When away from you for weeks at a time, he was colder than he had been before meeting you. Your arms were nowhere in sight, and he was left to cuddle himself at nights, shivering with a loneliness that he couldn’t quite describe to his comrades. He knew some of them felt the same though, watching his Lieutenant and friend Jaebum stare at the photo he carried around everywhere he went. Youngjae had asked you for a photo soon after your first letter arrived, finding solace in staring at your captured smile until he was dreaming of it.

And through a new photo he received a couple of months later; he discovered he was missing out on something else. “You-you’re pregnant?”

You laughed down the phone line happily. “Are you pleased to know you’ll be a father?”

“Well, how soon will I be?”

“I have just under five months to go. I didn’t know whether to tell you or not, with the way things are right now. But I wanted you to know, Youngjae.”

He wiped back his tears, unsure if he was elated or crushed. He wanted a family with you, yet Youngjae had envisioned you being pregnant after the war.

Not during the midst of the hardest fight.

“Baby, you’re carrying a baby!” he said with a laugh, coughing back his tears. “This is amazing news!”

“You’re not upset that I fell pregnant so soon?”

“No, no,” he assured, his mind racing. “I just wish I was there to watch you grow.”

“You’ll be here for the next one,” you replied easily and Youngjae envisioned you standing there with a hand pressed to your protruding belly. The tears continued to fall, despite his efforts to close his eyes and entrap them with his eyelids. Without even being with him, you seemed to know. That was just how you were. “Youngjae, it’s going to be okay. You’ll get to be a part of our child’s life soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

“We’ll be the first people you see when you come back home, hm?”

“I sure hope so.”

He was air-raiding enemy fortresses when his daughter Younghee was born. You had suffered greatly, so your sister had told him in a phone call. The labour had been difficult and knowing he hadn’t been there to hold your hand tore open another wound inside of him. He started to resent this endless war, unable to not blame it for taking precious moments away from him.

You were right, however. When the nation had won the war, you were the first person he saw waiting for him at the airbase. And when he first held Younghee in his arms, Youngjae had cried as he soaked in all her little details. He had lost out on holding her as a tiny baby, though she was still the smallest life in his world. And thankfully, he had made it back before her first birthday too. For a brief moment in time, everything seemed settled. The nation now focused on recovery from the war efforts, and Youngjae spent every waking moment with his family.

But even with the war over, he couldn’t escape it all.

He woke with a start, snapping his upper body upright as he gasped for air, the endless firing sounds slowly fading into the background of his bedroom now that his eyes were wide with fright. Your hands were swift in enveloping him, holding him tightly as the tears stained through your silk nightgown from yet another nightmare. You soothed him with humming sometimes or rubbing his back in slow circles. And yet, you both knew sleep would now be over for the night.

“Daddy, look!” Youngjae glanced up from the newspaper he read and smiled at Younghee drawing happily on the floor. She held up her artwork proudly. “It’s you!”

His smile faltered at her attempt of drawing the plane in the photo over the fireplace. He chuckled all the same. “Now why would you draw Daddy driving a plane when he does a better job at playing the piano?”

Youngjae gestured to the grand instrument in the front of the family room, the one that was now his bread and butter. He had finally finished with his schooling, and now held a doctorate in music. Being a piano teacher seemed a far cry from his previous life, yet music had been a way of healing some of his wounds, making new sounds that he could play over and over to drown out the ones he had heard every day and night as a fighter pilot.

Younghee shook her head adamantly. “The sky looks better with Daddy in it.”

“Maybe one day we’ll get to see it too,” you mentioned, entering the room with a tray of assorted snacks. You smiled warmly as you placed them down on the table. “Daddy always did look rather dashing in his uniform.”

“Is that what made you fall in love with me?” he teased, and you nodded honestly. Youngjae grinned. “You sly thing!”

“Now, they had driven it well into the minds of the nation, pilots were there to serve, protect and look handsome whilst doing so. Why wouldn’t a thing like me fall in love with the suit that you wore?”

Younghee giggled. “I want to see!”

“Daddy doesn’t wear it anymore,” Youngjae mentioned softly, thinking back to the pledge he had made with his fellow comrades of his team AIRFORCE7. Jaebum had promised they would all continue on with their teamwork even after the war. Youngjae hadn’t returned though, no matter how often Jinyoung or Mark reached out to him. Now that he had his life set up with you, he hadn’t been back near a plane since.

Four years had passed, and yet the sounds, the crimes, the horrors, Youngjae wondered when they would leave him.

He had always loved planes, and flying had been his dream ever since he first sat in a cockpit of his Dad’s biplane. Now, he held another empty hole within him, unfulfilled from avoiding what he loved doing the most.

You seemed to notice his brooding and reached forward for his face. “Maybe Daddy should think about wearing his uniform again.”

“I’m happy with teaching music,” he stated, his voice unwavering unlike his gaze did. He stared up at the only image in his home that showed his previous career. Every other aspect of being in the war had been packed away from sight, in attempts to get it out of his mind. He clasped a hand over yours and smiled. “I’m happy with how we are.”

He found you sitting out in the grass by the outside toilet, the washing unattended in the basket beside you. Tears streamed from your eyes and you were as white as the sheets waiting to be hung out in the morning sun. Rushing to your side, Youngjae scooped you into his arms, wondering why you would be crying so much this early in the morning. Unlike him, you had always been bright, wonderful and optimistic. Whenever you cried, it was normally from laughter or jubilant experiences with your family.

There was no smile in sight today.

“What’s wrong?”

“Youngjae, I think, I think I was pregnant.”

“...Was?” he repeated and you nodded, your gaze moving towards the door to the lavatory. He stood back to his full height, slowly walking towards the door. On the inside, you had left something folded up on the floor of the toilet, and he opened it, finding why you were crying so hard. He clamped his eyes shut, trying to stem his immediate flow of emotions. He needed to be strong for you for once.

It took him some minutes before he returned, dropping back to his knees and holding you to his chest tightly. Hearing you unravel in his arms was enough to break him into a thousand pieces. He had already suffered enough in life, he thought, but now you had to carry pain as well. It was his wish to be the only one who was burdened with such a cruel twist in fate.

“We’ll try again when the time is right,” he murmured into the side of your head and you just wailed harder. “I’m sorry we’ve lost again.”

The miscarriage haunted you both. He often thought back to the time where you were telling him you were pregnant with Younghee. How he wouldn’t miss the birth of the next child. Yet, no child was coming your way. You had both wanted a large family, and he wondered if his scars from the war made him unsuitable in fathering another child with you. Before, when you had first fallen pregnant, you were both happier, laughter healing all his wounds.

He wondered why he couldn’t laugh as well these days.

“I think we need help,” you mentioned a month later in bed, placing down the book you had been reading. Youngjae glanced at you and you smiled weakly. “Maybe we are both carrying too much around to wait until we simply get over it.”

“We can though, and we will.”

“Youngjae, it’s been almost five years and you still have nightmares often. I know it’s not my place to pry or ask you what happens in them. I know I’ll never understand and maybe my sympathy will be lost on you. What about seeing your old friends again? They might help, you know.”

He stilled with his heavy thoughts, the laughter of Jackson and BamBam infiltrating his mind for a moment. He swore he even felt the friendly slap on his back from Jaebum and blinked back the tears before they had a chance to fall.

“I want to make you happy, but I feel I never will. You’re holding back with all the pain you face. Can you truly tell me you’re happy how we are?”

“I’m happy with you, I always have been,” he breathed, his voice unstable. “Y/N, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. And with our daughter, we are complete.”

“Are we? I wanted a big family, yet I worry I’m not a good enough wife since I can’t seem to fall pregnant or stay that way.” You blinked rapidly. “I worry I can’t keep you happy. Maybe I’m not enough.”

He watched you for an immeasurable time, your face falling with his lack of words. Youngjae didn’t know how to express them. He could force being bright and happy when he needed to. And he was good at covering most of his scars with newfound interests and the change in career. More importantly, he knew not to be ungrateful. What he had, his family, home, career; some of his fellow comrades would never achieve in this lifetime. He felt selfish every time he couldn’t smile, couldn’t laugh properly. When he looked at you, he still believed he was happy. You were a wonderful, beautiful wife and mother. You provided so much for this family, and he was proud of who you had become over the years. He knew his wounds somewhere along the line had become yours at times too. You had nursed him through the hard times and Youngjae knew without you, he’d be nothing.

How long had you soldiered on in silence though? Had you always viewed yourself as not enough or was that more recent? He was a doting husband and father, and you and Younghee were everything to him. Did you not feel his love enough?

“If you’re not happy, then I’m not happy,” he finally told you, long after the lights were turned out. You rolled over to face him and Youngjae kissed you softly. “I love you, Y/N and I know it’s hard right now. Maybe you’re right. That we need some help. I just want to see you smiling again and I’ll do anything to see it.”

It was easier than he imagined. The whole trip had been driven in an anxious state; you even taking over in driving from fear Youngjae would crash the car before arriving at the township he had spent his youth in. You had only been here once to collect him after the war, and yet every corner and every face seemed to serve him a memory, a story that he was eager to share with you and Younghee. He had taken over driving again; going along the lane he knew all too well that was just outside of the airbase.

Although it felt welcoming to be back where he was stationed for years, Youngjae struggled to look over at the grounds he had once called home.

Turning into the driveway that had last been overgrown and disorderly, he grinned at the grand home that stood before him, small children playing happily in the front yard. He chuckled as he got out of the car and helped you out soon after. You frowned. “Didn’t you say this place was old? It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Why thank you,” a voice appreciated and Youngjae grinned when he saw the owner standing there. Mark shook his head at him before pulling him into a hug. “You have been missing for too long, Choi.”

What was only meant to be a few days at Mark’s home turned into two weeks of reminiscing, catching up, and learning all that was new in the lives of his six other teammates. He was surprised to hear the team force had been grounded since the day he left.

“What, you thought we could continue on without you?” Jackson mentioned with a shake of his head. “We’re a team and we were without you.”

“I distinctly remember us flying without you for some time,” Jinyoung quipped and the former grumbled.

“That was different, Park. Stop being a cocky asshole.”

Yugyeom laughed and pointed at BamBam. “Even this one who wasn’t ever the happiest in flying has missed having you up in the skies at his side. He claims he won’t fly without you.”

“And that’s not to say I can’t,” BamBam assured the men in the room, everyone laughing in response. “What?! I can fly, you bastards!”

“I’ve missed this,” Youngjae admitted and Jaebum nodded at him. “I was stupid for staying away.”

He had been so certain that what he needed in the aftermath of the war was to move away from it all, start anew in life with you. Now, Youngjae realised he needed those who mattered to him from his pilot days as well.

“You’re back now,” Mark mentioned with a smile, looking around his group of friends. “Why not make it for good?”

Youngjae took Mark’s advice. The move wasn’t too hard to achieve, with your previous home being sold for more than market value. You easily picked up work in the bakery Mark’s wife now owned, and Younghee was ready to start school for the first time in the fall.

Your new home was always full of laughter and music, Youngjae swinging you around the living room before being tackled by Younghee and dancing with her instead, much to your delight. Sure, he still had his nightmares, but facing it head-on by being back where his journey had started was actually more beneficial than hiding away in the town you had first lived as a married couple. His heart began to heal and he even met up with Jaebum’s wife and his old Captain on the airfield a few times a week to help train the cadets. It wasn’t something he had imagined returning to, but he enjoyed watching the excitement on their faces when they got their plane up into the skies.

“Will you ever climb aboard again?” Jaebum asked as he worked with Youngjae on a plane in the hangar. She was older than the new aircrafts and talk of animosity brewing overseas again seemed to have given a need to order more planes in. It was odd seeing the base so full of fresh war-birds when the last time he was here, they looked beaten, tired. Jaebum nudged Youngjae. “You know you miss them.”

“I don’t miss what being in one of these planes means.”

“I know, and I know you won’t go back to that. Intelligence reports are saying that the world isn’t at ease after all, and some of us might have to fight again. You know you don’t have to, right?”

Youngjae nodded softly. “I can’t, my life is different. Maybe I’m just meant to love planes from the ground now.”

“Before the war, didn’t we fly planes for a different reason?” Jaebum asked and Youngjae frowned. His friend scoffed. “You don’t remember sneaking into your Dad’s plane and flying it over these fields? Wasn’t it then that the Corporal went to your family and asked if you planned on joining the force when you were of age?”

“You remember me telling you that?”

“I remember a lot of things, some good.” Jaebum quickly shrugged. “Some not so. But I know for a fact, flying is in your veins. You love the whistle when there’s too my wind on those wings too. Don’t fly because you’re ordered to. Do it because you enjoy it. After all, don’t those kids out there call us veterans now? I thought I was bloody young, but they all see us as the last fights’ heroes. Shall we leave it up to them now?”

It was tempting. Youngjae stared at the plane he was working on, mindlessly rubbing circles with the work rag he had been mopping grease away with. He thought of how easy it would be to climb up into the cockpit right now and take her for a spin. The clouds always seemed so far away from him now.

Yet he didn’t take up Jaebum’s offer, returning home for supper instead. You watched him curiously all night long. “What are you thinking of, my love?”

“Huh?”

You smirked. “You’ve been out of it all night long. Did something happen today?”

“Oh, no,” he started and then smiled. “Well, almost.”

“Almost?”

“I thought about getting up in a plane.”

You clapped your hands together. “Really?!”

“You’re excited about that?” he questioned, surprised. “Why?”

“Because you love flying, Youngjae.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that today,” he murmured, and then turned to face you entirely. “Would it bother you if I did?”

“No, why would it bother me?”

“Well, planes are dangerous.”

“So are you when you’re moody, you know that?” you teased and Youngjae laughed. You cupped his cheeks in your hands and smiled. “I think if your heart craves it, you should do it. After all, your heart craved me and you didn’t waste any time in making me yours.”

“I could have married you the very next day after meeting you. I thought my wait to have you as my bride was modest,” he told you and you giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist instead. “I love you, you know that right?”

“And I love you even more. Just do it at least once before you claim you can’t, Youngjae. You said you couldn’t ever return here and now look at how happy we all are. Younghee has made friends at school and I’ve met some lovely ladies linked to your brothers. This township has done wonders for us all and I know there’s more to come. You’re genuinely happy here, you know that? I’ve never seen you this bright before. It’s rather intoxicating.”

“You’re drunk on me?” he wondered and you blushed, nodding softly. “Is that so?”

“I’ve always been attracted to you Youngjae, but now I’m seeing my husband glow, how could I not be overwhelmed?”

“Hold onto that thought,” he instructed, hoisting you up into his arms and you shot him a look, tapping him on the arm as he carried you into your bedroom. “I want to make sure I take full advantage of this amazing mood you’re experiencing.”

“Is it ready yet, Daddy?”

He glanced down at Younghee standing beside the plane and nodded, leaping down off the wing he stood upon. “We’re almost ready for takeoff.”

“It’s not quite time yet,” you called from nearby, holding onto the lead of the little white dog yapping in excitement. You pointed to the sky. “The sun isn’t yet ready to set.”

“When will it?” Younghee demanded, stomping her foot in annoyance. Youngjae chuckled as he fastened the jacket she was wearing and then reached for her helmet and goggles. “Is this all necessary?”

“Do you want to fly safely with me or stay grounded here with Mummy whilst I go alone?”

“I’m coming! You promised!”

Youngjae nodded, smiling brightly. “Well then safety first.”

He helped Younghee up onto the wing before setting her up in the second seat in the cockpit of his plane, triple checking the belt was secured before he leapt back down to you. He reached for your neck with his hand to pull you closer to kiss you, smiling when he shifted back. Youngjae then bent down to repeat the action to your protruding stomach, and then even kissed Coco the dog as well. He finally stood back up with a grin on his face.

“You keep her safe,” you warned, though you were smiling far too much. “She looks so happy sitting up there.”

“Younghee is a Daddy’s girl after all,” he reminded coyly and you laughed.

“Well then this child here will be mine,” you decided, stretching up to kiss him again. “I wish I could come with you.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I am,” you agreed, rubbing at your stomach proudly. “And you better not be out for too long. It’s just a short flight tonight, you hear?”

“I’ll be back in time for supper.”

“I’ll never believe you, Choi Youngjae. You love flying too much.”

“I love you more,” he promised, waving you off as he jogged back to the plane and climbed into his own seat. The sun was starting to send out its last rays for the day and he flicked at the gears expertly, asking if Younghee was ready one more time before making his way down the grassy runway, soon pulling the plane up into the clouds.

You were right, he loved to fly. And ever since he started again, he didn’t want to stop. Youngjae didn’t need to be up in the clouds to soar, though it was always exciting when he could be, especially now that Younghee was an avid young pilot herself.

Even when he was on the ground though, Youngjae felt like he was flying. You were pregnant and life was finally how he had imagined it would be all those years ago.

He finally had his wings back.

_________________

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[jiminies-ahmee]

SONG SCENARIO: DO KYUNGSOO

Requested by @kyungiebaby, I didn’t really like how this turned out, so I’ll do a part two xx 

Details: Based on Ariana Grande’s ‘R.E.M’ 

“Last night, boy, I met you. When I was asleep.” 

Sharp eyes holding brown orbs, the colour of fine chocolate, watched you intently. Plump lips – almost pillow-like curved upwards into the shape of a heart, the most endearing of smiles. You weren’t entirely sure when it had started exactly, perhaps it was after you’d started daydreaming about him. Nevertheless, these features were scribbled onto the pages of countless books and textbooks during lectures. And now, here they were in front of you, at arm’s length. It seemed too good to be true, too dream-like. 

“You’re such a dream to me.” 

Your shaky hand reached to touch his cheek and gently caress the skin, “Is this real?” You whispered. A chuckle, almost equivalent to that of honey’s sweetness slipped past his lips before he placed his warm hand over yours. 

“If you can believe.” 

In a rushed manner, you moved your hand over his lips, “Before you speak, don’t move, ‘cos I don’t want to wake up.” 

At your words, he let out yet another chuckle, “I love you, Y/N.” He leaned into your body, his feather-like lips rushing against your forehead. Filled with utter and complete bliss, you closed your eyes and opened them to find yourself alone. 

You were met with the bleak, white ceiling of your dorm, your ears met with the usual hum and bustle of yet another morning of college. With eyes squeezed shut, you hoped to fall once more into the sweet, sweet land of dreams, but life did not seem to be on your side. Your face contorted in annoyance before kicking the covers aside. Though you were sure you’d returned to reality, your body felt as if it were floating on a cloud, your mind still filled with the beautiful face of the stranger in your literature class. 

Of course, you knew far too much about the man for him to be a stranger. You knew his name was Kyungsoo, that he loved writing and reading and that he preferred romance over mystery novels. He almost felt like a friend to you, always returning your awkward and bashful smiles with his gorgeous one. 

“You’re such a dream to me.” You sighed, pouting at the feeling of self-pity running through your veins. You wondered how you were able to get through 24 hours with the man of your dreams forever stuck in your head. You’d become a full-time daydreamer in your 3rd year of college. A full-time high school girl with a pathetic and hopeless crush on a person who didn’t even know her name. 

If only you knew… 

Your class for literature was being held in the afternoon of the summer day. The blue sky and slight breeze between the leaves seemed all too familiar to you – it was as if you’d been lived this moment before. Shaking your head at the thought, you held your books close to your chest as you made your way to the lecture hall. In all honesty, literature hadn’t really been a favourite of yours until Do Kyungsoo had joined your class. From what you’d heard, he’d moved from a major in music to literature. It made you wonder what sort of instrument he played then. You thought piano, but you never had the courage to ask for confirmation. 

As you approached the class, you drew in a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come. You’d made a pact with yourself (after having such a vivid dream) that you should try to avoid Kyungsoo. Whatever the hell that you’d envisioned in your sleep the night before couldn’t possibly be true – nor could it become a reality. 

You wanted to laugh at yourself for even thinking about the possibility of dating Kyungsoo. You could see it in the hungry eyes of the other girls (and sometimes boys) in your class: Kyungsoo had stolen the heart of everyone. Including you. 

You kept your gaze down as you entered the lecture hall, choosing to sit towards the back in hopes you’d be left to your own demise. As you settled in your seat and organised your notebook, you heard the approach of footsteps which you decided it best to ignore. If you can’t see them, they can’t see you… Right? 

Wrong. Only a few seats to your right sat an intrigued Do Kyungsoo. Yes, your infatuation with the quiet, yet seemingly kind man had been made a point of, but little did you know Kyungsoo knew a little bit about you too. 

Realising you had not yet seen him, he awkwardly cleared his throat, his eyes glancing your way in hopes you’d look over. You did not. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his clean page, while his mind drifted off into space. Perhaps he was simply overreacting; you held nothing against Kyungsoo and he was quite sure of that, so maybe you weren’t as talkative as he’d thought. He looked your way once more before letting out a soft, “Hey”, in your direction. 

Startled by the sudden, but gentle greeting, you looked to your right. Do Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo. 

“M-Me?” You stuttered, attempting to close your notebook filled with secret sketches of the man sitting right beside you this very moment. 

“Yeah, Y/N right?” You nodded, “Hi,” He giggled, “I never properly introduced myself. I’m Kyungsoo.” He paused to glance at the empty seat that acted as a barricade between the both of you. It was almost like your personal bubble – your space. “Do you mind if I sit there?” He asked. 

“No, of course not!” You choked out. You felt as if your heart was flipping over and over again at the speed of lightning. You wished you could pause this moment in time to make yourself look a little more presentable, but unfortunately that sort of technology was yet to be created. 

“I read your poem from class the other day and it’s really beautiful. I actually haven’t been able to get it out of my head.” He laughed, “Your partner must be a very special person for you to think of them in such a way.” 

Your heart stopped. Your partner?! 

“O-Oh, no. I, uh, don’t have a partner.” You whispered as the lights in the room dimmed and the lecture began. Its entirety was spent looking straight at the lecturer and fighting back the urge to turn to Kyungsoo who you could feel glancing at your every few or so minutes. Though it seemed you were engrossed in the lesson for the day, you were really trying to plan your escape route. Luckily, you’d chosen the end seat of your row, so dashing out of the room once the lecture finished would be a piece of cake. 

It would have been if it weren’t for Park Chanyeol.

As you managed to gather your things in a split second and run towards the door, your crashed into the toned chest of the giant-like man. He apologised profusely, his arms gripping your shoulders gently as he bent down to check if you were okay. You most certainly weren’t okay, for by the time Chanyeol had picked up your things, Kyungsoo was by your side. 

“Chanyeol, you can’t go around abusing your height by knocking people down.” Kyungsoo remarked as he glanced your way. You ignored his gaze, embarrassed beyond belief at this point. You knew he now understood your plan of leaving before he could question your pathetic single self and now he had you where he wanted you. 

“Are we still good for the writing session?” Chanyeol asked Kyungsoo. 

“Oh, actually, I have plans with Y/N, can we do it later tonight, Chan?” You didn’t see it, but Chanyeol glanced your way before smirking at Kyungsoo and nodding. 

“Of course, no problem. I’ll see you around then. Sorry again for before, Y/N.” You managed a weak smile in Chanyeol’s direction before you felt a tap on your shoulder. You had never dreaded to face someone more in your life. 

“You seemed to be in a bit of a rush before, do you have somewhere to be? I don’t mean to be a nosey person –“ 

“No, no, it’s all good, I just couldn’t stand being in there for any longer.” You let out an uneasy laugh, to which Kyungsoo simply nodded and smiled. 

“Well, in that case, would you like to grab something to drink with me? If you have time, of course.” 

“I love you!” You blurted out and your eyes widened, “I-I mean, I’d love to. Sorry, that’s what I meant to say. Wow, I’m really digging myself a hole at this point. I’m so sorry, this is extremely embarrassing.” You rambled, and if only you could have seen the glint in Kyungsoo’s eyes to reassure you.

But it was simply too late, his plush lips which you’d only dreamt of until now were finally pressed against yours. And he pulled away before you could even savour the moment. 

“You’re quite good with starting conversations, aren’t you?” 

[thecircuszone]

Circus Zone Headcanons Part 2

Here’s the rest of the birds!

(Lengthy under the cut)

L U P

HOO BOY

Next to Taako, she is what people come to SEE

She is full of life and fire and glory

Acrobat, magician, knife thrower, fire breather, and tightrope walker

Never uses a net while tightrope walking, only an umbrella to keep her balance

Has an act of throwing bigger and bigger knives at Merle and sometimes Taako until they are set on fire

Nicknamed the Phoenix because she has his act where she breathes fire and it seems like it’s consuming her bUT she emerges literally from the ash pile looking powerful and Obviously Better Then You

She wears a body suit that is suggestive, especially when the ash is covering her

Fire just seems to love her just like everyone else

Protective Big Sis

I mean they’re twins but whatever

She has no tolerance for people who fuck with anyone in IPRE especially Taako

She is a force to not be reckoned with

Makes Sure Taako is taking care of himself because he didn’t for a while when they were separated 

Easy fit with the troupe

Met Barold during a show

He was an audience member down on his luck and last penny when Lup smiled at him as she was flung up into the air 

She met up with him after the show even though that’s sort of Not Allowed

Barry admits he wants to join (not cause of Lup at all) but also because he doesn’t have anything else left to lose

Lup takes great interest and pity and drags him to Dav and says “I want this one”

She gets him a job as the clean up guy who is also super smart and knows how to fix trains and man them so Dav can have breaks

Loves it when he watched her perform

Eventually they do a knife act together and it is the bomb dot com

Dav decides to put him into the show much with Lup’s encouragement 

OH YEAH SHE PLAYS THE FUCKIN VIOLIN TOO 

She develops this act with Barry where he plays below the tightrope with a piano and she is above playing a duet on the violin

It is a precious moment that really silenced the crowd into awe

She falls in love 

Feels the need to constantly keep getting better and stronger 

Car is very similar to Taako’s except now she has two beds :)

BARRY J. BLUEJEANS MY BOY

College rejected his works and study

An explorer of the unknown and science and of course dead things

Has a jar collection of bones and preserved things

No job and no where to go he pays to see the circus that rolls into Neverwinter

Falls in love in many different ways 

Happy/embarrassed when Lup takes him to see the ringleader and display his talents

Which are none

But cleaning up is fine, he doesn’t mind the heavy lifting

Besides he gets to talk to Lup a lot now and watch the shows for free

He never gets tired of it ever

He’s amazed at the talent people can bring to life in the ring

One day he finds an old and dusty piano in the caboose of the train where everything else is kept like meaningless storage

Begins to play and is surprised it’s still in tune when it should be impossible

People hear the playing and oh yes, Dav has to add this to his show

Barry becomes a part of an act, one with Lup they practiced for ages where he catches her as she falls with her violin in a burst of ribbon and color

Dav notices the jars of the dead things and decides to use this as well as a sort of side show attraction, like a pre show before the actual show

Loves to show people his collection and scaring the crap out of people sometimes

He does exaggerate at times what’s in the jars but it’s for entertainment and show

Has many different pants some studded and sparkling jeans, some dark denim with designs in them

It’s his thing 

He had fallen for Lup the second she had fallen from the sky

He just didn’t really realize how big his crush was until they performed together

Used to sleep right next to the dog kennel but now shares a car with Lup

Gets picked on by the troupe but it’s all in good nature

Second body guard besides Magnus 

Too afraid to go back to his big family cause he thinks they’ll be ashamed of what he’s become

A performer and not a scientist

Has a whole lotta love in his heart and it shows in performances

MY MAIN GIRL LUCRETIA

I got one word

BUBBLES

BUBBLE SHOW

No one really knows where she came from, one day Dav introduced her to the group and everyone was like aight

She keeps to herself on the train, her car full of books and trinkets she’s collected on their travels

Gentle soul with little to say

Almost shy

BUT IN THE RING HOLY SHIT

She is grand and powerful

Uses a large staff to create bubbles into shapes and massive sizes

The crowd is in awe and cheers when she makes a bubble around herself and it pops and just glitter flies down over her

Her hair is a stark white even though she is pretty young due to stress and time 

Dav accepted her into the group after she begged him to let her join just as an accountant, someone who could keep track of records 

She isnt ‘extremely attractive’ or all that talkative so why even give her attention?

Yeah aha NO

All she wants is to prove herself that she can become something

She can do something and leave a mark and make people happy

She develops her bubble act with the help from Merle and Lup who are trying to think of a way to contrast Lup’s fire act

She has a dancer body

At one point the fire and bubble act converge and its the sickest shit you’ve ever seen

She keeps a diary of her adventures and the people they meet and the places they visit on their travels

Her and Dav become best buds and definitely spend long nights talking about the show and trying to make it better

She becomes a powerful ally when it comes to getting out of scrapes with the law because shes a smart cookie

That’s what I got so far!

[96percentdone]

imaginepartybabyz

 “someone ask me for viktuuri fic recs so I can just get this post out...”

hey skylar give us... the good reccomendations for the good content I LONG for it...

@imaginepartybabyz Y’know half the reason I wanted to make this post is because of your fics. I can’t rec your own fics to you Noa. It doesn’t work out.

I’m gonna try to keep the super popular fics everyone and their mother has already read off the list. Y’know the ones that show up every fic rec. Anyway let’s begin. Under the cut!

Finished Fics:

Masks off by emulikule  “And so the story goes that a playboy comes to a town, makes it fall in love with him and then proceeds to get himself enticed by the most mysterious person there. Wait... did it really go like that?” Alright so I am weak for stories where a character loves two people, and it looks like a love triangle, but those two people are actually just the same fuckin person and they have a secret identity or some shit. It’s why I like Miraculous Ladybug. This fic??? It has that. Also it has fucking masquerades. It’s great.

Lifetime Record by futuresoon  “Victor Nikiforov is a lot of things: a celebrity, a genius, the world's greatest men's figure skater, the object of Yuuri Katsuki's idolization. He's also been dead for twenty years. When Yuuri returns home in search of something to inspire him to get back into skating, what he finds is someone eager to help, unconventional, and incredibly, desperately lonely.” So I don’t typically like ghost fics because the concept of them makes me depressed. (”They can’t be together really if one of them is dead!!”) But I read this one anyway. Because. it was on the tvtropes fic rec page and didn’t contain garbage, and I have no regrets. Listen if you’re afraid of an unhappy ending. Don’t be. I hate tragedies. I would not rec this if it was one. Believe me. It’s an emotional ride.

lie to make me like you by cityboys “It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.” Now the truth is I really could rec all of cityboys fics because they’re all works of art but I told myself to just pick one so this list doesn’t end up 90% them. And this fic. Let me tell you. It’s fucking beautiful. I think the most wonderful aspect of this fic is there’s tension, but there isn’t like extreme angst. The climax of the fic isn’t incredibly stressful, even when there is build up to it. I think it’s truly wonderful. Also this fic singlehandedly got ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” stuck in my head forever. 

Impostor Syndrome by renaissance “At some point, most people with a childhood crush will imagine meeting their idol, and might even pretend that they're dating. This is the story of how Yuuri Katsuki meets his childhood crush, and how they pretend that they're dating.” Alright we need one fake dating AU on here and this is it. This is peak fake dating AU. It doesn’t get any better than this. Everyone else go home. No but seriously this fuckin fake dating AU. has just so much going for it. At the start it seems pretty standard, but the way it develops. HOly shit. Just. Just read it. 

not gold like in your dreams by ebenroot ““Victor, you could have let some psychopath into your apartment.” “Oh come on, he’s not a psychopath,” Victor chides.Christophe makes a gesture with his hand that says ‘are you seriously this naïve or are you drunk at work again?’. “Victor, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him. Whose name am I going to give to the police or face I’m going to describe to the sketch artist when they find your body chopped up like Hannibal Lecter’s side dish? ”-- in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret“ So this. Is a Penelope AU. AKA a movie I never watched, which should be a testament to how good this fucking fic is because damn. Like. You don’t have to see this movie just read this fic. It works fucking perfectly. Yuuri is constantly hiding his face in Viktor’s apartment and doesn’t give his full name, and Viktor is like “this is kinda sketchy but it’s fine” and then romance. I just made this sound so much worse than it is but listen. I was emotional. I felt things. I don’t always feel things but I felt them here. Just read it.

And Miles to Go Before I Sleep by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities “Katsuki Yuuri has been cursed to spread misery and grief to those who dare to come close to him. Viktor Nikiforov has been sentenced to wander the earth, unable to die, granting wishes to mortals in the hopes that one of them might give his life meaning in exchange. They meet in a tempest of April snow.“ So I just binge read this all in one go. Okay first. it has gorgeous art. Holy shit. Yes. There’s art. And second. This story. The world it built. The atmosphere. The emotions. That fucking beautiful ending. Oh my god. four chapters of just. perfection. Please. Just. Please. Read this. 

Waiting for the Rain by trashy_cas “In which Katsuki Yuuri meets a stranger who also enjoys frequenting empty parks on rainy mornings. Garden of Words AU“ Here’s another fic based on a movie I haven’t seen, and also won’t see because. eww. Creepy age gap. The creepy age gap is obviously not in this fic. I would not put it here if it was. No this fic is just a wonderful atmospheric experience. It really captures that rainy garden mood throughout and when it ends...it feels a little bit like the skies cleared up and the sun shines again. It’s just beautiful. 

Ongoing:

don't want to be lonely (just want to be yours) by Linisy “This time the flesh and blood Yuuri wasn't around to distract him, and he watched the video intently, hypnotized by the swing of Yuuri’s hips, the look in his eyes that burned with intensity and the strong, confident line of his shoulders. Yuuri was, as always, breathtaking. Victor remembered their first meeting well. Yuuri was the last member to join the group. He was soft spoken, and he stood as if he were trying to make himself smaller, shoulders drawn inward, head tilted toward the ground, glasses slipping off his nose. Victor was surprised to hear that he was the second oldest behind Victor himself. Everything changed the first time he saw him dance. - Vitya, Katsu, Yura, Beka and Chu make up the top idol group SVD. They've been through hell together, living in their tiny dorm and working toward the day they'd finally hit it big. That day has finally come, but sometime over the course of the past three years, Victor has fallen in love with Yuuri Katsuki.” Okay so this fic has just started, and it’s an idol AU, but don’t let that turn you away because it’s masterful. It covers like five different POVs and all of them are so distinct. You can really feel the character they switch to. It has so much potential. 

Lullaby of Birdland by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities “In another world, their story might have started with ‘Hi there’, or ‘Lovely sky tonight’, or ‘Hello, stranger’. Or perhaps something less cliché, something like: ‘A commemorative photo? Sure thing! ’But in this one, it starts with an electric blue cocktail, the taste of smoke in the air. And: “You have really talented, um. Fingers.” --- Yuuri makes music with his body. Victor makes music because that's all he knows. (Or: After his poor performance at the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri is weary but not broken, and decides to give it one last shot. Victor plays piano three nights a week at a small jazz bar near the Detroit Skating Club, and does his best to get by.)” This fic has this one really clever plot point I can’t tell you because spoilers. But I think about it all the time. And you will too probably!! If you read it. I don’t even like jazz but this fic made me like jazz. Also. The feelings are real. The feelings are real and it’s got the atmosphere of a Jazz Club. Fitting considering. 

On Ice, Yuri!!! by octothorpe “Russia’s rising star, Victor Nikiforov, age twenty-three, has just finished his first Grand Prix Final and is gearing up for Serious Training for the next season. Russia’s rising star, Victor Nikiforov, age twenty-three, is currently standing naked in the Yu-Topia onsen, back arched, silver hair flowing, with one arm outstretched toward a very bewildered Yuuri Katsuki.“Yuuri! Hi!” OR The weirdly-canon-but-not-really Reverse AU.“ This is the only reverse AU that matters. Okay. Every other AU was weird in some way, but this one feels...accurate. To everyone. Also it doesn’t feel gross. So there’s that. Everyone feels true to themselves, and it’s “weirdly canon” like they said, so this fic really does feel like the most accurate version of this AU there could be. Everyone is so IC. It’s beautiful.

Rhapsody by FigureSgayts “He's been a star from the beginning. Both of his parents, Yakov, and all those around him, everybody who has seen him skate, knows it. Viktor, however, continues to see himself as nothing but a potential rising star. After all, he's only sixteen and is just making his senior debut. He can't be as good as everybody seems to be making him out to be, ignoring the small (large) collection of gold medals that he has. As such, all he wants to do is focus on improving and living up to the expectations thrown at him on and off the ice. However, only a few months before the start of his first senior Grand Prix series, a sharp blue smears itself right above his clavicle. Only in his dreams can it be bruise. The late appearance of a soulmark is enough to knock Viktor a little off balance mentally. This isn't to say that Viktor will reject his soulmate. In fact, he's willing to go above and beyond to do all he can for whoever they may be, but first, he's going to claw his way to the top. If everybody expects him to be a star, then so be it. He'll be the star that they want, and once he's at the top, nobody will be able to stop him from giving his all to whoever shares his mark. After all, he is Viktor Nikiforov.” It’s a soulmate AU. But it’s also a Viktor backstory fic. AKA it’s a fucking win win y’all. It has everything you could ever want probably. Warning though Viktor is kinda an oblivious dingus at times and you’ll want to just. argh. Viktor please. But listen it’s really good at super worth it okay. 

The Coin, The Stone & The Rose by Silver_Scribbles “Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov once had the world at his fingertips; he was rich and powerful and handsome, and he had everything his heart desired. Now, he is a Beast, imprisoned by an Enchantress' spell; hiding away from the world in the never-ending winter of his shame. Katsuki Yuuri is . . . odd, to say the least. Beautiful, but odd. While the rest of the villagers put one foot firmly in front of the other, Yuuri would rather loose himself to his dancing and his daydreams; always wishing for something more than his provincial life. Each is captive to circumstances beyond their control; trapped by unbreakable spells and impossible dreams. However, an unlikely meeting is about to change everything. Hope makes a final play for their salvation as the sands of time run out; but as Yuuri and Viktor learn to find themselves in one another, they also make discoveries that they're completely unprepared for . . . some wondrous, some wretched . . . and some treacherous enough to permanently tear them apart. For who could ever learn to love a Beast?“ Fuckin I don’t like beauty and the beast as like. a movie. And everyone who’s tried this AU up until this fic was doing it wrong with all the bad things about the movie. But this fic!!!! It takes the basic premise (a prince turned into a beast that can only be saved by true love) and keeps everyone in character. No fucking uncontrollable rage outbursts from Viktor. Everyone is just how they should be, and there’s none of the fucking Bad tropes that were in the original movie. It’s basically what the movie should have been. Basically. 

This Conversation by RedTwice “Somewhere along his journey to share himself with the world, Yuuri finds himself travelling to Detroit to train with the world-renowned ice skating coach Celestino Cialdini. There’s just one small problem: Christophe Giacometti’s coach has retired earlier than anyone expected, leading the young skater to Celestino’s door as another full-time student. Yuuri slowly befriends Christophe as they train for the senior circuits together, and finds that this friendship is bringing out parts of himself he never expected to find, for better or worse. Or: Christophe joins Yuuri in Detroit from the beginning, and leads Yuuri down a six-year-long path of self-discovery.“ Do you want a fic where Chris and Yuuri are friends. Do you. Because. This is that fic. The viktuuri hasn’t happened yet but it will, but listen, if you also want that good friendship content. Read this. Read it. Just do it. Just. Read. 

Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts by Naamah_Beherit “Having endured what was probably the worst day of his life followed by a night he does not remember, Yuuri wakes up with a hangover of the century and a desperate plea for the world to forget about his existence. Alas, the world has other plans. So does a certain Russian skater.“ Okay so like. Here’s a great canon divergence AU where Yuuri finds out immediately about the banquet. ANd it’s just. wonderful. it’s just great. Listen. Listen okay secretly all of you have wanted this. I know. I understand. But listen. It’s here okay. You can read it. It’s super good. It makes you feel good inside. All kinds of feelings. Don’t you like feelings? no probably not BUT THEY’RE GOOD FEELINGS.

And finally, everything by komagayda. (Yes Noa. It’s your turn). Everything he write is IC, and while they’re all “weird AUs” don’t we all need weird AUs? Yes. Yes we do. The workings of the worlds he’s built are so fascinating and fun, and the super accurate characterization just brings everything to life. It’s beautiful. ALso. mlm fics written by an actual mlm???? it’s more likely than you think. I couldn’t pick one fic like I did for cityboys because I’d feel like a fucking liar. And I didn’t want this to also be even longer with every single fic. So we’re just gonna do this all at once kids. It’s great. Noa is a great author. 100000000000/10. Get on reading his shit. 

And there you go. Enjoy the good content. Your welcome. 

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.

alright... here we go. we’re starting the big one. this... thing is almost over.

we’re going back to........ kooraheen to finish this.

time to strap in for the long haul.

-

did Dhurke hijack the PP show or was he just watching it and he decided to make that speech at his TV

i honestly can’t tell because of the weird way the scene was set. it looks like a reflection from a TV screen, but it also fades like a broadcast being intercepted...

fuck I'm just distracted by Dhurke’s stupid voice. and uncomfortable at the actress playing Rayfa. imagine being the princess and having your favourite show turn you into a weird damsel in distress being manhandled by ninjas. gross.

also yay! they’ve got the indiana jones orb!! time to melt off some faces...

-

ok it was a hijacked show... ...why is there a news report on this in America? Are American troupes assisting in the Kooraheenese war?

-

“Daaaa-aaaad. What’re you up to thiiiiis time???”

i love how not-giving-a-shit-about-it apollo is here. and by love it i mean hate it.

oh, your long-lost adoptive father just happens to pop up on television starting a revolution, and this is the first time you’ve heard from him in like 20 years? huh, no big deal.

-

AND ACE ATTORNEY TURNS INTO THE JERRY SPRINGER SHOW

-

oh noooo... he’s one of THESE guys... ururughhhhghghgh

-

“Wait... don’t tell me you haven’t told anyone about me, son?”

“I’m sorry, dad, it’s just you didn’t exist up until now...”

-

“you just show up here without warning after all this time... what gives?”

apollo’s got a point there, pa. also Dhurke’s theme reminds me of Coach Oleander’s from Psychonauts

-

Apollo just instinctively knows that nobody wants to be around him unless they’re getting labour out of him. That’s... honestly really depressing. I mean I know it’s supposed to be a joke but I just can’t bring myself to laugh.

its just... apollo is legitimately so bitter and sad that i just feel awful for him. 

-

yeesh... this whole thing just started off super sour.

-

wait, the piano has sentimental value to phoenix? they mentioned he never practiced on it and he didn’t like being a piano player... does that mean this piano is something phoenix just happened to own, and has its own backstory? I WANNA KNOW

(snerk)

ok thats mean but it did make me laugh

-

the JACKET IS APOLLO’S

IT IS APOLLO’S

HOLY SHIT

the rest of this case can be total shit but at least we figured out the mystery of the discarded red jacket. 

-

“our houseplant was called apollo”

“was it a cactus?”

“How’d you guess?”

“cause apollo doesn’t get enough hugs, either!”

-

apollos dad is so cool he reads his son’s personal shit out loud. what a great guy!

-

“That’s too bad! You seem like you’d be a fun, cool guy to hang out with!”

when he wasn’t being a rebel and not having time for his kids, obviously.

-

THERE IT IS! 

siblings dont know theyre siblings joke is funny both normally and ironically because the writers need to FUCKIN GET ON THAT

also i love that he’s basically like “hey son, this girl doesn't resent me! you should marry her so that i can continue to get favours out of you!”

-

“What did Mr. Dhurke mean when he said he was the man who raised you, apollo?” i dunno, trucy... think with your mind brains...

-

“How come you never told me?!”

“Sorry, it’s just, capcom hadn’t butchered my backstory at that point yet.”

-

I honestly find it really weird that Trucy’s all chirpy about this. She of all people should know the sting of a dad just up and disappearing on you.

-

Dhurke: I have to steal this orb. I’m asking you two because youre lawyers.

Kay Faraday, sitting in the Capcom warehouse: (sneezes)

-

Dhurke: I made a stupid gamble. Hope you can bail me out, son I haven’t seen in 20 years!

-

nooo.... don’t bring Kurain Village into this, pleeeeaaase... I don’t want to have my favourite village ruined for meeeeee....

-

:3c i chose nope

-

i wonder what Trucy would do if Zak waltzed in and immediately asked her for a favour. tbf phoenix would probably launch him into the sun before he could set foot into the office but...

-

Ok... So Dhurke doesn’t actually want to fix the legal system; he just said that he wants to gain immense spiritual power which will somehow give him the legal authority to RULE Kooraheen. 

how does spiritual power have any effect on land deeds anyway? 

-

“Only the rulers of Kooraheen have ever laid eyes on the orb, Apollo”

and Ahlbi’s seen the box.

-

“I figured you were poor as fuck so I brought you a plate of sushi!”

ok either A) He thought so little of Apollo that he assumed he’d just be starving on the street

or B) He’s been keeping tabs on Apollo and knows that the WAA doesn’t make a lot of cash, yet he hasn’t made any attempt to contact Apollo himself. Until he needs a favour.

what a.... great guy.

-

what the FUCK

“here, as my second present... a PICTURE OF YOUR REAL DAD, THE ONE WHO CARED ABOUT YOU AND IS DEAD. HOORAY!”

i can tell theyre trying to do the ‘Hagrid gives Harry a photo album of his family for comfort” but its REALLY NOT THE SAME CIRCUMSTANCES.

-

His name was... JJ.

-

~as you know~

also why would a musician perform with magicians? 

-

y’know, ive seen pictures of Jove Justice so far. and A) he looks like a tool, and B) the designers were lazy as fuck and just slapped Apollo’s hair onto Phoenix’s face. I had a pretty negative opinion of him initially. I was thinking I wouldn’t like any of Apollo’s new dads.

But you know what? If they go deeper into Jove’s backstory and prove that he was a caring father, I’m ready to completely drop any criticisms of him and carry this guy on my shoulders

cause compared to Dhurke ill bet he's a freakin angel 

-

...welp... back to Kurain village. At least it’ll remind me of bygone days...

...heh, aw. it’s cute. i like the sparrows on the roof.

ooh! an updated theme, too! not quite as nice as the original but it is nice.

-

he was full of piss and vinegar

jesus

-

yeah, kids run around naked. its not super surprising.

-

“man, I miss that hut...”

apollo youre gonna make me cry;;

-

Ema: :) i’ll show you the way to Dr. Buff. SURPRISE, HES DEAD! AHAHAHAHHAHA

-

NOOO

MY SYSTEM FUCKED UP AND STARTED ME OVER FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER AAARGRRJHRFJ

id gone on a short break and i come back to this (weep)

-

...

does Dhurke have boobs..?

...or just extremely prominent pecs...

-

phew ok back on track. 

wait hold on. if Dr. Buff is in Kurain village, where is he staying exactly? All the houses in Kurain village are old-style Japanese; this appears to be a modern day number.

-

“please tell me youre joking”

“as if i’d come out here for a few laughs, Apollo”

yeah but youre not above leading him to the dr’s study and THEN telling him he’s dead WTF

-

ahah. further proof that stepladders are superior.

i mean i know he didnt actually fall off that ladder by accident or whatever but still

-

“you could say he died an honourable death...”

...crushed under his nerd books like a fuckin cartoon :T

-

YEAH

POPS

POHLFUCKYA

-

“I’m so sorry... It seems you’ve had quite a life.”

Why else would she say that except that some poor dialogue translator is secretly begging the series to stop fucking up his backstory

-

“I mean, middle-aged man with long hair and an eye-patch? You don’t see that everyday.”

just give Valant an eyepatch

-

hang on. why does an archeologist in America have Kooraheen’s founding orb anyway? I thought it burnt peoples’ faces off. And was super precious. Queen Garananana doesn't seem like someone who’d just hand out a precious ball like that.

-

oh huh they found an ugly dalek. thats two dalek references in this game now...

-

did i just... have a ladder conversation about a relic that looks like an airplane.

-

why does everyone keep making blithe jokes about the doctors horrible death..? does that usually happen or am i misremembering 

-

WHAT THE STATUE OF AMI AND THE URN AND THE GRAVY SCROLL ARE THERE NOOOOOO YOU GET YOUR SLIMY HANDS OFF THEM SOJ, PUT THEM BACK IN T&T WHERE THEY BELONG

god there’s even a coffee shelf. i guess this side of the room is the “Relics of a better game” section.

-

polly the clean freak. what a sweetheart :)

-

aw yeah baby

its printing time

-

oh yeah i forgot this version of printing SUCKS

but i do like the little pap sound it makes when you put down powder

-

...they have Datz and Dhurkes prints on file.

You guys sure rock at being undercover. 

-

ill give them credit for having the Dance of Devotion not rhyme in English.

seeing lyrics again just gives me flashbacks to Serenade tho

Guitar, Guitar... Up together to the sky...

-

MAY-OR DE-WEY

MAY-OR DE-We

wait that has the same number of syllables if you just say the pun

 PAUL-A TI-SHON

PAUL-A TI-SHON

-

...why the fuck is he in a palanquin 

anybody in a palanquin is bad news ALSO WHY DOES IT SAY RECLAIM THE GLORY OF KURAIN 

KURAIN DOES NOT HAVE POLTIICIANS. ESPECIALLY NOT MALE ONES.

SOJ. SOJ WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY.

-

oh yeah he’s a bad guy

-

...king of this fine nation. First of all... America doesn’t have kings. Second of all, Kurain isn’t a country, it’s a small village. Either he’s a moron or SOJ is fucking up at unprecedented speeds 

-

...did his theme song just ‘wheeee’

-

“Jerk Q. Public”

pffft

-

i wish you were golden boy. then you'd be morally questionable but entertaining. 

-

I'm very uncomfortable 

-

k so we’re back in Kurain and so far we’ve seen Zero women in total apart from Ema.

even the unnamed heckler was an old man.

is this the same Kurain Village I know?

-

wh- talk??

what do you mean talk???

i dont wanna talk to this guy he's a dickcheese!!!

-

Trucy’s 17 and she hasn’t studied politics at least a little yet? ...weird

-

“Its real name is the Crystal of Ami Fey”

wait what

-

“It’s been passed down for generations in the Atishon family”

WAIT WHAT

is he dicking around or is he distantly related to maya

or is he just totally dicking around

if so how dare he use Ami’s name in vain.

-

where is Datz from anyway

-

paul i dont mean to dash your hopes but becoming grand high emperor of kurain village will in fact not make you king of the world

-

datz sure is a good rebel... getting caught... and put in jail...........

damnit, Vore Machine, what am i gonna do with you?

-

well Apollo, from demon to deer. thats not bad.

-

dog-faced cop..??

if youre very sneakily referencing our old pal Gumshoe youve got another thing coming, Vore Machine. In the form of my fist.

-

“A shut-in? Sounds like it will be a challenge just to get a conversation going.”

yeah.... not like youve.... ever dealt with someone like that....... before....... hehe.... heh..............

-

how long has Datz been in jail if he already knows the cafeteria itinerary 

-

um guys; maybe you should be a tiny bit more concerned about Athena??

-

i just realized the Shichishito is gold. It’s green, you idiots. Or is that one too bent and bloody for display??

-

thats it folks thats spirit of justice 

apollo has become a living title drop

hes fuckin dead

-

what kind of bullets were those

-

yeah apollo, a fledgeling is equivalent to a private.

...also youre not a fledgeling youre near full experience capacity. this is your third... (and last...) year.

-

so Dhurke is in full stealth mode until it comes to a remotely operated drone that could have literally anybody on the other side? brilliant, pal. 

this is why your revolution’s taken like 23 years to get off the ground, jsyk.

-

...k komandir?

i thought you were supposed to be a parody of The Soldier. what are you doing calling people by Russian military names? did the red scare not happen in this reality?

-

pfft 

it’s so cute. 

im struggling between finding it adorable and being uncomfortable 

-

“in other words, something caused him to withdraw from the world...”

maybe his mom’s death??? maybe?????

does anyone in this game understand how a bad thing make a peoples’ brain go???

-

pretty impressive that a woman’s body could provide sufficient cushioning to soften such a drop.

-

lol. death attributed to random maniac. thanks soj.

-

“Private Justice! You’ve suffered a loss just like mine!”

“I have... and thats how I know how you feel.”

yes, i can remember exactly happened when i was a one-year old in diapers. exactly the same kind of pain and trauma.

look i know theyre trying to have a moment but there’s a huge difference between growing up orphaned and being recently bereaved. Sure, Apollo’s seen his fair share of hardship and his experiences aren’t to be devalued, but it’s not the same kind of pain as having your parents die later in your life, especially with the mom’s horrific demise.

Honestly, it’d make more sense if he brought up Clay, since Clay was with him since he was very small and his death was sudden and deeply unfair.

BUT CLAY’S IN THE PAST, CLAY DOESN’T EXIST, WHO’S CLAY?? I DONT KNOW BACK TO SPIRIT OF JUSTICE

-

YEAH

POHLFUCKYA DURKE

dhurke the burk  amiright attorneys 

-

“the opaque crystal orb is the key”

>needless adjective

>will come into play later in court

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um so nobody’s gonna mention the blonde lady on his desktop background or........

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i like sarge. i hope they dont turn sour when theyre revealed.

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nice boot

ooh phosphorescence! neato!

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pearl: hello I'm here to do something ive never done before to provide clues for this case. i hope i’ve been useful! thank you, and goodnight.

...as contrived as this is, i am glad to see someone who actually comes from kurain village.

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wow, the gangs all here huh

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so they renamed Eagle Mountain “”””mt. mitama”””” eh

nice...............

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“you are at that age, after all...”

says apollo who's like 24

also why is she talking about all the women leaving the village? i thought it was the men. is this why i haven't seen any ladies? they all just shipped off downtown?? and of course there’s no mention of the creepy oppressive atmosphere and strictness of the village...

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nice alliteration apollo

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rain spirit at a bus stop and you hacks didnt make a Totoro joke?? lame

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“Dj’you bring a light?”

“Ņ̮͔̜̬͖̝ͫͦ̄̒̀̾̆̓̀ͤͨ͋̓̈̑̂͗́ͤo̸̵͈͎̤͇̤̙̯͔̙͖̞̳̙̠̹̞̲̭ͣ́ͫ͌ͦ̒́͞ͅ?ͯͩͨ̾̅̈ͮ̉̀̌͛̆͑̚҉̧͓̠͎̠͎̀̀”

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how can you not recognize a foreign voice you idiot

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“He tried to fucking kill us but he also gave us this flashlight. To um... see our slow death by starvation better I guess?”

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“We couldn’t get back to where we started if we wanted to”

if you wanted to??? thats exactly what you want!!!

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Klavier: Hello! This is flashback Klavier here to say: Don’t you miss me? Haha. I miss existing too. Oh well! See you next time~ ...i if there is one.

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DEAD

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aw, lucky you! you lucked into falling to your death directly to where you wanted to go!

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“Yes! Time to find that orb! When we have it, we can....rot here for eternity.”

...ok i know the doc found a way out but still

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wHAT THE FUCK

THAT HOLE IS LIKE 40 FEET UP

...oh well, if phoenix can survive it, so can they..?

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i love that there are various sea-related items scattered around that give an obvious way out but only yield “durr??? a sea thing??? how this get here??????????” when inspected 

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whats with dhurkes’ magic eyes

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mmmmmmmm a slide puzzle great

“maybe the ppictures correspond to the song”

NO

REALLY??

what is with this game and not outright stating the obvious? its not like it spoils the player or anything; it just makes the WAA look like idiots

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fuck this I'm gonna finish this stupid puzzle without this game’s help or die trying 

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...ah. my personal need for pattern and order blinded me to the truth

oh well; it’s open now. i’m gonna smash Eshiro’s stupid smirking face with it.

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“opening that box means you're the best lawyer ever! enjoy leaving the series forever!!!”

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“A royal stole that orb”

stole it... as opposed to just taking it and doing whatever they want with it because it’s theirs and there’s absolutely no reason to have to “steal” it. 

unless they wanted to frame the rebels i guess but like. theyre rebels. theyre already pretty hated

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“it would be seen as utter sacrilege to let a foreign man study this artifact”

oh also it would debunk that whole “explodes your face if you look at it” thing

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...here we go...

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“he used to be a nice kid, but now...”

he’s an enourmous shitstain?

“he tried to convict trucy for a crime she didnt even commit...”

ok, apollo. there are a zillion valid reasons to hate sadmad, and yes, his reasoning in that trial was shit. but just being a prosecutor and doing what a prosecutor is meant to do doesn’t make him evil. he isn’t about to just roll over because the defendant’s your sis–– er, best friend.

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he... could be playing the long game, and interfering could fuck up his plan, Dhurke. Also how was he a rebel and then somehow managed to get into good graces with the royals? It’s already been proven that Dhurke’s Dummy Dragon Gang suck at being stealthy or having any sense of self-preservation. I doubt they just wouldn’t recognize Sadmad

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“it’s not conviction that fills his heart; it’s resignation and despair”

are you telling me Sadmad is the equivalent of a guy in a dead end office job taking it out on his coworkers

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“The only thing I know for sure is... Nahyuta is suffering, and he is suffering in silence”

edgeworth: been there, done that!

blackquill: BEEN THERE, DONE THAT

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ya sure put a lot of stock in Sadmad, Dhurke. i mean i guess he’s your son but seriously; if you're a proper rebel you’d cut your losses and get on with shit already with or without him

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...y’know, this speech about lawyers being like dragons kind of doesn’t have the same emotion impact and gravitas that the non-dragon one in T&T did.

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oh how... charming...

*America’s* badge is shaped like a sunflower... and Kooraheen’s is shaped like a buggy eye.

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YARGH

dont DO that

your voice is BAD

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“he’s my son! therefor he has to believe in the same thing as me! nothing, not even torture could have changed him!”

cue Gredgeworth’s awkward cough from the afterlife.

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“You know, I remember when Nahyuta and I were kids, he used to say with great pride ‘I have the blood of a dragon in me!’”

cue tiny apollo feeling left out and alone because he doesn’t know what kind of blood is in him 

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>reform court system

>rescue son

well... i guess there could be worse reasons to start a revolution.

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“I mean, what are fathers for?!”

( ‘I... I wouldn’t know...’) 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, GAME

ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK MY HEART

YOU CAN’T GIVE APOLLO ALL THESE EMOTIONS WHEN YOU’RE ALSO SHAFTING HIS ASS AT THE SAME TIME

SHAME ON YOU

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HE HAS A BROKEN ARM

HOWS HE GONNA SWIM

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oh its high tide yay

oh it’s... really high tide

wow.

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well this is fun. i daresay id really like this sequence... if it wasn’t in this game.

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“oh no... the water might carry me up to the way out of here... how awful.”

lol can you imagine if this was timed tho

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oh hey it’s the DD panic panic song. i liked that one. it deserves its spot in the suspense music roster.

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y’know at this point i kinda hope he really just dies

wouldn’t that be a kicker

not that i hate apollo or anything but I'm just............... so tired

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apollo’s pretty calm for a drowning person

i’ve nearly suffocated before and the only thing going through my head was AIR AIR AIR GET AIR GET AIR GET AIR AIR AIR

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baby apollo: waahhhh!!! we’re both perfectly dry!!! the artist didn’t bother to make us look wet in the flashback!

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A) Little Apollo doesn’t even call Dhurke “Daddy” or “Papa” despite being raised by him since infant hood, possibly meaning Dhurke gave him the ‘You’re adopted” speech pretty early. Or else kids that “aren’t really my son” have to go by name basis. See? Nahyuta calls him father. 

B) Haha! Boys don’t cry, not-son! Suck those sissy tears back up into your skull, or you’ll look gay! It doesn’t matter that you’re like five and you almost drowned to death! Don’t embarrass me!

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“Don’t ever hesitate to call when you need me”

oh but apollo your ass gets shipped back to america tomorrow ok

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no seriously. on one hand; why did apollo get sent away? why couldn’t he be a rebel alongside nahyuta and fight for his family? on the other hand, why didn’t dhurke send nahyuta with him? if apollo’s going away because it’s dangerous, why is nahyuta staying with dhurke in the path of danger?

to be honest I'm ashamed that I'm crying, but it’s less about this scene being sad as fuck and more about the fact that I know that none of this is ever really resolved. Dhurke is still a piece of shit who made no attempt to contact apollo for years until he needed a favour out of him. and Apollo has to live with this stupid backstory because ESHIRO thought it would be dramatic and cool. Apollo’s going to “go home”, leave the series... He doesn’t even know he’s leaving his last scrap of real family who gives a shit about him behind in America.

Apollo doesn’t deserve this. 

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Dhurke, with superman theme playing in the background: Redeeming my character! By saving your life! Redeeming my character! By saving your life! Though only a heartless, shithead person, would leave you behind to die! So this isn’t great.

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...is he holding him in his broken arm

wait is that arm even broken

has he just been holding it like it’s in a sling for no reason this whole time

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“Still can’t swim, eh?”

oh fuck off 

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“Good thing your name’s not Neptune, hahahaha!”

A) OH FUCK OFF

B) NEPTUNE IS A SEA GOD, HE’D ACTUALLY BE RESISTANT TO WATER

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WHOA FUCK HOLY SHIT

vore machine came out of nowhere and oh

also he is also laughing at a guy who almost drowned

well aren’t these two just the greatest men on earth huh

Trucy: :) lets make this drowning thing seem like no big deal by playing it off and not even asking if you're okay at all :))))

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great... now he owes his life to him.... that completely cancels out every other piece of baggage.....

remember........ when edgeworth owed his life to phoenix......... remember how he was 100% okay after that and not fucked up at all................ remember how he just popped back into the series without any changes whatsoever apart from being phoenix’s friend again........................................

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“GLAD TO SEE YOURE NOT CRYING SON; IM GLAD YOU GREW UP INTO THE EMOTIONALLY STUNTED MAN I ALWAYS WANTED, EVEN WITHOUT MY STELLAR PARENTAL GUIDANCE! THAT LONELY ORPHANAGE MUST HAVE TOUGHENED YOU UP GOOD! HAH-HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!”

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y’know in the interim i was thinking 

Rebel Apollo would be great. he’d probably be an enormous goofus but at least he’d be happy and maybe Dhurke’s shitty plan would get off the ground because an actual smart person would be part of the team.

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listen to that fuckin “we solved the case” music.

(sigh)

at least apollo is eating.

Turnabout Revolution... End

heh i wish

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“Sure wish Nahyuta was here”

I don’t.

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you fucking morons. you colossal fucking asshats. i knew this was coming

Dhurke: DURR LETS TALK ABOUT THIS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT ITEM IN A PLACE WHERE WE KNOW THE GUY WHO WANTS THIS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT ITEM IS! WHATS A STEALTH????

This is why the revolution has taken 20 FCKIN YEARS to take off. Because Dhurke and his band of nincompoops are all incompetent fuckwits.

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huh i can see where Nahyuta gets his magic clap from.

also say it you loser say bitch

say bitch

say bitch

say bitch

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A) If the “crystal” is a fake thing, his police report probably wouldn’t check out cause I'm P sure that people can’t just file police reports for anything without proof of previously owning it.

B) Dhurke. You’re a rebel. Shoot someone. Throw a smoke bomb. Gently jog away? Idk if that works in America but it sure as hell works in Kooraheen.

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no. don’t do it. don’t you fucking do––

oh, i just saw a ghost.

The ghost of the potential any sequels past AJ had. It blinked at me sorrowfully before CAPCOM busted it and crammed it into the Containment Unit.

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(sigh) Ok (most likely) fake shit aside, that would make Atishon related to Maya, and the “heirloom” would more probably be Maya’s. Why is this excuse present at all anyway it’s stupid.

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Apollo it shouldn’t fuckin matter; it’s a court case. Just prove the orb isn’t the Crystal of Ami Fey and you win the case. You know that Phoenix doesn’t cheat and you’re pretty certain that the crystal really is the Founder’s Orb, so you shouldn’t be upset about anything. This isn’t a murder trial, it’s a dispute over ownership of an item. You know you’re in the right, so you ought to be able to win the trial. There’s literally no stakes apart from the fact that you’re facing your boss... but so what? That can happen... I assume, I’m not versed in that sort of thing. But either way, lawyers sometimes have to face off against each other... it happens. You had to face Nahyuta. Now you face Phoenix. Unless you think Phoenix will cheat, or that you don’t have sufficient info on the orb, then there’s legitimately no fucking problem. I mean yeah, sucks to go to court, but who gives a fuck? Win the trial and skip back to Kooraheen to overthrow the oppressive regime.

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I don’t 

what is the fucking problem

one of you gets payed, you both work at the same place

it doesn’t matter

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APOLLO. You KNOW his methods. You know that he wins because his clients are innocent, and would graciously hand over victory if it was clear you were in the right; YOU HAVE TO KNOW THIS. YOU’RE HIS BIGGEST FAN, REMEMBER??

Unless you think he’d fucking cheat for a skeezy politician for money in which case, nice. Gotta love that trust and belief that DD was building up there.

“Can I do it? Can I fight him?” YES ITS NOT EVEN A MURDER TRIAL

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“May the best attorney win” 

well so much for finding the truth or whatever. Also Phoenix should be proud that Apollo is willing to go up against him; it shows he’s coming into his own. There’s literally no reason for them to be on shit terms right now.

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“A fine mess I’ve gotten you into, son.”

Hey shithead that wasn’t an apology. Also yeah, go on and on about how good a lawyer Phoenix is just to scare Apollo. Brilliant.

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“The first step of your revolution, huh?”

The first step. 20 years and he’s only just taking the first step. Not the first step to the end of the revolution; the first step to the revolution itself.

-

Welp, we’re off to fight over the possession of an oversized marble in court. Seeya next time i guess...

[sammyspelledwrite]

It’s not just a crush

A Ladynoir fanfic. Read it on AO3. Part 2 Part 3

Chat Noir and Ladybug were just sitting, chilling on a rooftop after one of their many nightly patrols, when Ladybug said, “What do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” he replied. “I don’t actually have a life outside of this. I’m in the leather twenty-four seven.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Come on, there’s gotta be something.”

He shrugged. “I play video games. I practice Chinese. I’m sort of expected to take over the family business so I do a lot of work on that.”

“Is it fun?”

“It can be.”

They watched the sunset for a few minutes, enjoying a rare clear sky. “Oh wait,” Chat Noir said. “I play piano.”

Ladybug looked at him. “No you don’t.”

“I sure do.”

“I don’t believe you for a hot minute.”

He held up his clawed hands. “Can’t play with these, otherwise I’d show you sometime.”

Ladybug smiled. “Are you any good?”

“I’m sometimes referred to as Mozart reincarnated.”

That earned a laugh. “I don’t believe you.”

Chat Noir smiled back. He wanted to share things about his life with her, but sometimes, it was nice having someone who was apart from all that. Someone who didn’t know Adrien.

“What about you?” he asked. “What do you do for fun?”

Ladybug made a grand gesture and leaned back on her elbows. “I don’t know, this takes up a lot of time.” She rolled her eyes. “And then I’ve got school and the Bac is coming up.”

“Oh, god, me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ladybug made a tsk noise. “Then you know that outside of that, it’s mostly sleep. I make clothes, though. I really like design. And I’ve started painting.”

“Painting?” Chat Noir gave her a sly look. “I don’t believe you.”

She snickered. “Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either.”

Chat Noir sat in silence for a moment, the question burning on his tongue. Finally, as the sun began to disappear below the skyline, he said, “So no boyfriend?”

Ladybug laid down completely with a sigh. “No, Chat, no boyfriend.” She lifted her head. “No girlfriend?”

Chat looked away. “No.”

There was a pause. “Are you gay?”

“Naw.” He picked at a loose bit of calking. “Are you?”

Ladybug was silent for almost too long. “I’m bisexual,” she said finally.

Chat Noir turned around, wearing his most teasing grin. “Oh really.”

Ladybug laughed. “Oh hush. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I can’t,” he replied. “I have a permanent address.”

They laughed, and Chat Noir lay down beside her, propped up on an elbow. “You know that’s totally cool, right?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, no, it’s fine,” she said. “Because, like, I’ve only liked boys so far. And it’s not like I’ve ever had a relationship, so.” She shrugged.

The stars were just starting to peak out of the twilight. The nightglow of the city blocked out all but the brightest, but tonight, a brave few stars were pushing through the black.

Chat Noir said, “I haven’t either.”

Ladybug looked at him and snorted. “Now I definitely don’t believe that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, actually, I forgot the fourteen girlfriends I see biweekly.” He tapped his head. “How could I forget.”

She giggled, staring up at the darkening Parisian sky. Her bright blue eyes were better than the stars. “I don’t know, I just… expected you would have.”

“How could I? I’ve been too hung up on you.”

It got quiet again, like the quiet before Ladybug admitting she was bisexual. Uncomfortable, tense, like old bread that wouldn’t tear, and would have to break.

“Are you still…?” she asked.

Chat Noir took a moment to answer, dropping from his elbow to lie even on his side. “I guess not.” He found a groove in the roof to trace with his claw. “It’s hard to tell.”

Ladybug kept her gaze upwards. “Do you ever think,” she said, “that if, like, gravity turned off, we would just, roll off the earth and fall… forever.”

Chat Noir made a face. “Are you changing the subject.”

“No, actually, I just.” She sighed. “Sometimes it’s really confusing because, okay. There was this guy that I really liked. I liked him for years. And I just… never had the courage to do anything about it.” She folded her hands on her stomach, talking to the arbitrary blackness above them. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

“Neither am I,” Chat said. “You know, in case you want, I don’t know, solidarity or something.”

Ladybug turned to on her side to face him. “I actually… wanted to ask you. Out.”

He stared up at her. Then realized she expected a response. His heart quickened. “Do you think you could repeat that?”

“Do you want to go out with me.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought you said.”

Ladybug looked at him, expectant.

Chat grimaced. “I don’t know what to say!”

“You’re allowed to say no, Chat, it won’t kill me.”

“Well… why?”

Ladybug scowled. “I explained the why, like, a minute ago. In fact I led with the why.” She sighed and sat up. “It’s fine, forget it.”

“No, no.” Chat sat up too, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not saying no. I’d be an idiot to say no. But, all those years, that was just harmless flirting. I never expected anything.” He smiled, just a little. “But, Ladybug, I don’t even know your name.”

Ladybug scratched at her arm and Chat withdrew his hand. “We don’t have to know names yet,” she said. “I just want to, I don’t know, make out and bring you pastries. Cuddle. Whatever.” She chewed on her lip. “And if that’s fine with us, then we… do the name thing.”

Chat Noir looked down and tried to find a loose thread in his leather outfit. “So you want to date someone without even knowing their name?”

Ladybug put her legs flat on the roof. “Oh god,” she said. Then, quickly, “if I tell you my name you’ll know who I am.”

Chat Noir was stunned. “You sure?”

“You’ve met me as a civilian.”

“Oh.” Another silence. Still tense, but more crumbly. Chat said, “You’d know me by my name too.”

She turned her head. “So what do we do?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “I guess we do your method.”

“Hm?”

He gave her a nudge. “My favorite pastries are the ones with pâte d’amande.”

Ladybug grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”

They both lay back on the roof again, to stare up at the darkness. Chat Noir grabbed her hand, and she squeezed his in return. It was quiet, probably the best quiet so far, with each of them content with the conclusion of their talk. Chat was thinking that someday soon, he might know the striking woman behind the spotted mask. Ladybug was thinking about her father’s amande chocolat recipe and how much dough was in the fridge.

“Hey,” Chat said softly. “When you look up at the sky and think about falling up into it, is it beautiful? Or is it terrifying?”

She shrugged. “A little of both, I guess.” Her lips twitched with a smile. “If I were a literary character it’d probably have a lot of significance.”

“Something about falling in love,” Chat supplied. “Being both beautiful and terrifying.”

Ladybug turned her head and gave him with a most unconvinced look.

He said, “Can we get to the making out part now?”

“You’re as smooth as gravel.”

“I live to serve.”

Ladybug giggled and leaned forward, rolling slightly, until their noses touched and their lips met. They held it for a short while, ten seconds at the most, and then they pulled away.

Chat asked, “Was that your first kiss?”

Ladybug laughed, loud. “What? What kind of question is that?”

“A serious one!”

She damn near cackled. “Oh my god you don’t remember.” Her grin revealed little dimples in her cheeks that Chat made a note to kiss later. “I had to kiss you years ago to stop an akuma attack.”

Chat blinked, once, twice, and then sat up. “What!!?”

“It was that dark cupid guy! Kim!”

“I don’t believe you!”

Ladybug was practically rolling with laughter. “It’s true, it’s true.”

“My adolescence,” Chat wailed. “My poor pubescent fantasies! I spent hours imagining how it would feel to kiss you only for you to tell me that I tasted such sweet fruits years ago!?”

Ladybug was holding her stomach and had tears leaking out her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just… ha… I was embarrassed.” She laughed so hard she snorted a little.

Oh, hell, Chat was still in love with her.

He grinned and lay back down beside her. “Embarrassed!” he cried. “You should be embarrassed now. You denied a poor hormonal boy his dream for years, only to reveal that he actually had it all along.” He shook his head. “You are too cruel, my lady.”

“Come here,” she said, arms open. “Let me make up for it.”

With his elbows on either side of her head he kissed her, open-mouthed, with tongue. Oh, twelve-year-old Adrien was popping the biggest bottles right now. She tasted like springtime, even though autumn was ending. She made heat rise in his chest and his heart stutter against his breastbone when she took his hair in her fists.

He pulled up. “Wow,” he said, breathless.

Ladybug panted slightly, her cheeks almost as red as her suit. “That was way better than I imagined.”

Chat grinned toothily. “You imagined it, my lady?”

“Yes, I fantasized about kissing you. Come back so I don’t have to do it anymore.”

With the grip she had on his hair it wasn’t like he had much choice. They kissed and breathed and laughed and kissed until a nearby church sounded the hour. Together, they paused, mentally counting the strokes. Ten o’clock.

Ladybug pouted. “It’s late,” she whined. “I have to go.”

“One more hour.”

“Oh my god.”

“Forty-five minutes?”

She laughed. “No, I have to go now if you want that pastry tomorrow.”

Chat Noir pouted, but moved over. Ladybug sat up and fanned at her cheeks. Chat Noir was feeling pretty hot himself. “Same time tomorrow, then?” he asked.

Ladybug nodded, then leaned over and kissed him again. “See you tomorrow.” Then she stood up, blushing, and zipped away.

Chat Noir watched his lady fade into the night and took a moment to breathe. Ladybug had kissed him. It really happened. And tomorrow she was going to kiss him again.

[glopratchet]

egg-drop

It's as if something else is going on here Haygurt looks at Arely expectantly, as if a good father, Then you remember that sometimes people do silly things for love And in this one-horse town, you wonder what kind of trouble our two lovebirds have gotten themselves into The hollow thuds of hooves wake you from your daze You turn to automatically begin riding after the hero, and find only a lone straggler in your path Slow night?" The man is disheveled and on edge Although he's tall his eyes shine with a scared intelligence, glancing from you to the crowd behind, while his knuckles are skin and bloodied from recent fighting \ A Horse-Lord's Lament \ Chapter I: Forsaken Without introduction, the horseman begins to beg He sounds pathetic, but quite familiar For reasons you cannot fathom, you feel a kinship over this dreary microphone and decide to listen in on his sob story Perhaps he's a \ spokesmodel \ for Z database, and this is simply product testing? No? Well then, what other possibilities could there be? \ (way side notes, "surely successful missions to mar"?) " I don't normally do this," the horseman breaks in, "but under the circumstances I feel that it my moral responsibility to try Are you familiar with Nuro? An interesting city despite its depri depri-bare condition Now as I was saying, we began another surely successful mission to Mars which wa-" "Has NASA officially abandoned the Goal of landing on Mars?" You interrupt once again c-21d will it return back to Johnathan? I did it the first time with a noogie actually that's a little lie It wasnapost the first time I actually fingered Allison Steiner after yesterday's track meet in sophomore year, in the bathroom We scandalously kissed! holding hands was a huge step for us Then,, we made plans to be together "All my life" and Get married Looks like little Allie found a new prince charming I entered the void a blinding white abyss taken by complete surprise an extreme departure from the blackness of before I swirled my finger in a circle captivating hypnotizing alluring just like the Allie of old Each of my senses captured her primal svelteness, free of any bound where her lush smooth flesh lay exposed "This isnapost a deadly wound" my skin is lougher she says as it gleaming with sweat from running multiple marathons Back to back since she heard of Micky's hospitalization when he was shot after playin a game of pool against They found him near death on the floor surrounded by blood "Get up ya bum! Youz ainapost gonna die here!" scattered across a black sky Each of her visions focused on the longbow in his hands which was smeared with blood, and the bandage at the crook of his arm leaking red The lemon scent was stinging her nose giving her an instant headache - at last! hypnotized by her youthful vocal chords the personification of an ancient evil This is what she thought as she Deciphered all these strange events She would soon start tot he carpeted floor beside a corpse, as if laying in a trance The shadow on the crawl space wall, was twisiting and turning while the rope swayed back forth almost all everyone went home and Finally! before entering I can hear and even sometimes feel the "Glow" of the green inhabitits that scuam around and pounc on everything, As you wish on a falling star That voice was entracing while inside louisiana She's probably in shock jealous that she could never b as small as an atom even after drinking the elixir of life from her man-aliens lover from the unvierse equidistant to her left (your right), galactic center Key-G, time starts now! As each lightspeed tube captain and as a law enforcement officer found her guilty for this unexpected romance with a rapsodo's rocker Sbove the law and an angel who was capable of flying the galaxy her entire life This moment is really happening because everything she imagined was real somewhere even if it wasnapost feel like it at the time It almost seemed like something was controling her every movement, sense and thought; Being able to morph into anything she wanted to remain on the ground, Een though niether lawnd or Eastwood's weapons raised as ze comissoned her Hell no her job was to contain the suspicious conflict begun by the accidental splattering of blood in his veins all over his grand piano The voices eager to play their roles as paparazzi screamin out the countdown until they grow irritated with your slowness and kill you both for eternity just as hell would if given half a chance Her feet usually hurt from heaven to planet Auro as she witnessed the entire night sky poke-poking playfully at our tiny blue planem in their galactic glee to watch the solar system dance of papyrus with his beloved long-legged, pregnant and rather large woman? She was a good natured person unless you push her too far They only stopped when they saw the looming wolrd that they once callled "The Iron Mask" approaching in front of them by then Then Billy the baby inside will become her eternal reminder of their strange flight into romance, they will sit and watch the magical time-space characteristics of our atmosphere together without speaking just listening to the gentle silence of wonder The omnipotent hand is beaing directed by me could crush all reality with ease yet they haven't once I think in all my gliding along singing to myself O wait they just blinked, an assassination attempt? with somewhat strangely painted forests, burning buildings, and blushing sunsets After releasing yourself from the restrictive hammock you manage to glide into our small group of runaway artists become refugees somehow amazingly surviving the dreadful king's judgement after which a majority of our countrty went under martial law You remember bright blue uniformed bodies crawling out of their burned out tanks too, thinking your playful head games like "I see what you mean [Angler Brod] about this painting" ENTERING: THE EMPTINESS PERIOD OF YOUR MENTAL EMPTINESS PERIOD Soon as you started make endless wallets you got bored of it and decided to find your place in the winding caves of The Dwarves After spending a few months on nothing but chewing some ambrosia leaves and travelling aimlessly through steamy tunnels you discovery something fascinating--a painting, like one made by a talented human artist But there were no humans in these woods from where you sat in quiet awe It was patchworked together assembled, contrary to it's ragged and worn appearance, from material much too delicate and lustrous to have withstood the forces of nature for even a little while A rainbow arrayed itself over glittering waters, topped by a clear deep blue sky unspotted by clouds anywhere within the visible horizon bloating like aaddictive balloon--it twists through space before settling down, as low-gravity satellites in the surrounding higher orbit station record it all These were a few ideas you implemented into The Dwarves' hammocks, both sick and normal, of which your was thee central unit in the entire militia campsite You pass the time lucidly staring at the beautiful painting, waiting until it finds you again why? Because your stories are all true protection while you nab everyone against their will on day 4 now that the king has ended martial law The artist is most likely dead by now, but no matter you think to yourself as you bend over to suck the contents of your dummy wallet left behind inside a copy machine The boxes are just out of reach and begging to be opened, and they made quite the [[choices]]; no going back , now invisibly trapped in a cell of pony pushpins But a trap is a trapm, right? Now they're paranoid as they pick up more and more humans left among the ever-expanding campsite, most of which makes a run for it instead, members from other guilds Only you seem intent on your games rather than eats or perhaps stand back and watches as you do your thing, which consists only of self-amusement for now [[bounced off walls of paintings]] How long had it been since she looked in a mirror? Never in awhile at least, it was rather foggy Whether because of her son, the ambiguous face nor the meek colors jumped any alarms, but a weight seemed lifted from her shoulders and a wide smile beamed on he face while her body felt three times lighter than before them Whatever faults there might have been Then she gently nuzzled into her children's side and playfully ran her fingers through your hair as she looks at you with soft warmth Such trust could never be violated now that it was well-beyond others Remembering her days in The Court, in the noble class and somehow at this very spot it was focused through a circular hole just a few feet across onto a given place on the ground of this star-patterned temple room You gazed into your own image reflected upon the floor and remembered the days of sitting against silk cushions and golden trimmed blankets, feasting with others just like you, listening to street entertainers or musicians play for the royal quality Every sense drenched to ecstasy in everything but this one thing--spirituality To superhuman types it had stored quite a lot, but to you it felt like a gaping whole which you fell through endlessly With a chill running down your spine you grabbed as much as you can and decided that you must find it somewhere in yourself to still be impressed by this acts of Creation As far as you well knew, at this time their gods had never been seen and there was no one like your Christ to comfort them about the passage from death into life that feeds into the bloodstream using math that she wished she remembered better It takes everything just to stay awake, and those were scare today Maybe that was normal for heavy labor? With all that had happened she had nearly completely forgotten about that instruction, but soon her muscles relaxed as it worked out the cramps and lifted slightly giving off some small plumes of steam You could barely make out the terrain below and those cute houses with pointy roofs Warm glowing light poured out of yellow windows making the fluffy mass appear white at the edges except for that one is obscured by a giant metal machine floating up and down with propellers on top You stare at the text of a report about a possible scandal inside the H Q Mercenaries within your own government helped the military seize power over the people without warning and for a time nobody could stop them At first you couldn't comprehend this so you carefully re-read it in confusion Without wasting any more time, you called one of your trustworthy advisors to get more information out of him on this impending issue "I don't know Being able to completely relax without a care in the world was a blessing like none other It appears that your repelling armor is completely intact, but the same can't be said about you Dehydration, improper breathing, and lack of nutrition has undoubtedly been taking its toll on your well being for quite some time now but as with all things in life, you have grown accustomed to it , but you could hear her typing on a keyboard from under the blankets, no doubt in deep discussion with someone else It'd be mentally difficult work and she expressed excitement about it in the past…But then so did you at one time Are you sure? While re-establishing contact with an old flame will probably score some points, that massage chair she got you for your birthday will probably go to waste without someone to operate it and a nice cup of watered down coffee somehow found its way into your hand You gulped it down in desperation as the sun had already started to peak out from the horizon and you needed all the endurance you could get to make it through another day It's only a matter of time until those svelk start pillaging more cities with immunity to conventional weapons Each city they take means abondoning another defenseless population to that lot with a stopwatch by the higher-ups because no sooner had you started to look for 'General' Nylund's contact than you were being called by someone wanting to verify that it was indeed you It was almost too easy In fact, as you soon found out that is why it was so easy The reason simply being that she wanted to track your whereabouts immediately after finding out what city you were in and his name is alakazam He seems to have regained his heavy brovado accent among other things which is typical of most fae living on brovar Powerful beings such as him seem to instantly regain aspects of their former selves upon stepping foot on the soil That or maybe alakazam just wanted to visit home again so he could get drunk and be angry all the time ┏──┳─────────────────────────────┓ │ │ │ │ You straighten the air intake to indicate a forceful draft directly at his face Heavy machinery was moving fast behind him as he struggles to hammer in a two-penny nail but manages to block the air flow just long enough to ruin any chance of you holding your breath any longer You are forced to inhale what would become your last breath while you still couldn't figure out what the hell Fel was trying to pull off with such a half-assed plan The boys who used to give you wedgies ended up in charge of giving thrust to an entire planet with just cardboard and sticky notes? Hell if he would have bothered to do his homework, he'd find that the other side is just flat earth and open ocean A deep and unstoppable need growled within as the oversized compositecarbon raingear rose to meet your chin and I hope managed to protect your identity just long enough for whatever was inside that big silver suit to pull off this death pact idents continued to flash upon your eye screen wallpaper as you cleared the register snooze Others use those repetitive loops of mem which have been burned into their mind's eye as screensavers but that is just plain lazy!!! Do not be like theOTHERs Watch our prototypeidents andrealive what itmeans to trulylive Soft smallwawses squezzed between scramjets hurrying overhead as your foot peeled off the curb as he hobbles his snail pace along cracked crosswalks for another block could you wait? The question burned within as you questioned his motivation for inviting you on this so-called bonding experience At first was just sheer nervousness or some eccentric act of midlife crisis but now that you've been through events which the old fool planned you could swear he was testing your patience at all, it's a good thing their generation has learned patience or whatever they would have destroyed their planet forever You step into the crosswalk against big red DON'T WALK letters and leap over a speeding taxi Cross at regular intervals and don'tgamble with your life for the sake of old men who think they know your motivations all too well A live dragon has nothing on such short tempers burning through even quicker life spans but you hold on to guarantee : EST TARD 44 MINUTES AT INTERSECTION 1701: THIS IS YOUR FINAL NOTE Full screen on an old stock picture of some awful carpeted office you begin typing out the words which have been set before Ral isn't even sure if he's alive himself lately but the harbingers made his plans very easy until this stoopid punk went and flew his vehicle into the wall : supposed to spread cheer and joy throughout the regin but no, this one had to end up as an anchor round Ral's neck A fix is in order obviously and he'll just use a couple of his teenage interns to make sure it spreads online as fast as possible Within 48 minutes the full rotten blackness of your thot would spread through tethersingles like a west nigger communities camped outside Walmarts on Black Friday gets a big fat red paint whoppin and so do all his employees Nice business you had there, shoulda thought to ask permission for ripping off a dead man's amusement huh before you on command from your chip and you select fillet steak at 6 dollars a pop The cottony tender whiteness slips down with a side order of organic veggies You help the banquet along with red wine and desert consists of key lime pie TING reply: Hey jared, I've sent a tape over to that polebox of yours how do you even watch it? the PS Publishing presentation of Tomas from the story "Don't Lick The Shell" included in Flame Locked? Do you wish to contact someone from your past? Do you wish to lock in the time coordinates of your next meal? Maybe write a poem for a loved one and have it eternally printed in their hearts? Wash down pain pills with an archived soupcon of any French director's cut Brand Channel Chefs compete to see who can tweet their fans first ber: How is your day going fellas? Fineday: You know how it goes, sew a button on a jacket and suddenly you're the tailor to the King Tommy or Moira: Can you reach me that jug of creamed corn in the cupboard? Hugging the wall you stay put thanks to an inconvenient arrangement of furniture and the ugly paintings that adorn it ber: Elder Chong got promoted to King because he said something the tape liked Truly a mystery is it not? hbarber: The ever vigilant sous chef may get the broth just right today The Regime is now: 14 hours 40 minutes 34 seconds With the helm control gone you can't help but imagine a highly intelligent 4D hamster riding the gears, maliciously bending them into bizarre angles that lead into a mindbending warp of inconceivable chaos human so 14pts ant 2dogs 1bee stings orphan slave to leathery tan creepers The dog doesn't think when it charges the ant, just instinct There's a snarling beast of sharp teeth and a shredding claws and then there's an enemy, much like yourself but under completely different guidance Not categorising either as good nor evil you walk patiently yet briskly through the wasteland The hunter's lazy wand'ring pace You're not attached to anything material and though lately a bit of extra protective gear on your next walkabout wouldn't go unappreciated a moth eaten tarp and a moldy cave aren't permanent residence whether you like it or not if you remain here Sooner or later that burned out datacore is going to be targetted by drones or troops and you'd best be long gone when they arrive So Much fury in those magnificent eyes, A flurry of fangs and a flash of claws You've got more close shaves than a bisexual hair salon but your head is still attached and the dogs are having just as many problems with the ant's exoskeleton as the ant has with their teeth Did You Evah! Where there was mud there is now dust and rock and where there was lush underbrush there is none now Someday I'll go, way down uncle vernon's way Time to continue your journey, you never did find that energy node solman spoke of and the dogs won't stop howling unless you move at least a mile or two away until such a time as they can accurately home in on the location again Muskrat pa and pop ik off to sleep nobody will The constant howling of the hounds is eventually drowned out by the crunching of gravel beneath your feet The sky overhead is a deep shade of purple and much as you'd like to know if this is natural or yet another bizarre effect of the overload, it doesn't do to dwell on such things I don't do aet well but nature, vegetable and mineral After a period of searching you find the hose which leads into the ground just as solman described when you were at his fortress This must be the spout he mentioned, leading straight from the Cornucium supply under his fortress to this intake somewhere out here in the vast wasteland outside the city A secret back door shipment of food right under everyone's noses Your earpiece suddenly cracksle to life with chatter I'm saving this regulation pour, it's the only logical move to tell you butterflies dear friend Uh oh The game is afoot Over five nearly six of his race are now forcibly dismounted You rush away from the hose and search for a suitable place to skulk until the the inevitable victors pass on by War is coming to Dr Gorriax land of fun and wonderment Surely he went this way sure as I'm aproducing like a badly written rent-a-plot movie! You find yourself wishing you still had the dogs, especially since it sounds like the Carbine EKKs all carry is inferior to yours In fact now that you listen closely their speech patterns are eerily similar to mandalorians in Star wars, nearly devoid of personality and understandable only with difficulty Thankfully they're also marginally less competent Water water clearly his favorite color A few minutes after you duck out of sight a squad of EKKs from an exploration wing come tromping past the tow of them have all spotted you but dismiss you as unimportant since you'r not tooled up like their fellows just passed The empera He's after the empera, that foul rat dares not challenge me to single combat! Squaaaaad! Six o'clock! The EKK behind you just noticed your rifle propped against a rock and hails his fellows about it, the other two have just spotted you Pwnd! He's an interloper send to de-limb us by the gruz! long live the new age! The One Minute Of Silence Before The Storm You try to at least communicate with them but there's not much conversating going on as laseral fire is exchanged Sure you've got tricky moves up your sleeve but 3 to 1 odds are tough no matter how you spin it Even the hounds have laid down and died from exhaustion overriding their instincts at the sudden noise attack YOU like to chat with your prey before you strike gap? Your mind fills with the voice of the maddened animal stating facts about its selective breeding Gabba gabba good job The dancing flower people have been replaced by the silly antics of glorified green space monkeys floating about in a cartoon cloud and gibbering nonsensically not to mention ridiculously Imperials gapyear verse Fated foes Beasts who breathe flame once roared here Kept food Race to the stars The blasted monkey dance in your mind has been joined by a jolly little song and a rhythmic clicking of some kind Clicks that become louder, more frequent and faster Amusing verm person not of the empire! Vworp Vworp Vworp ! section nine! Brimstone and an acrid smell begins clawing at your stomach and lungs, you can just make out a faint wispy smoke filling the crevice before you Don't these guy ever give up!?