#and that side starts morphing back into his true demon-likely-creature-thing form

[hermanunworthy]

CHOOSE UR CHARACTER!

tysm for 100 followers!! i decided to finally solidify my hermie designs and make a fun little reference sheet of sorts w all of them!

(update this is so old now and ive made quite a few changes to my hermie designs since this agkdj)

[yuriko-mukami]

His Possession Ecstasy 08

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

Chapter Selection

The rain didn’t stop. Yuriko sighed, staring at the backyard of the Mukami manor. Once again, Ruki had been called to Eden by the Vampire king, and there was nothing Yuriko could do about it. But perhaps this time it was a good thing.

Leaving the window, Yuriko sneaked closer to Yuma’s room. She still hadn’t seen even the tip of the nose of the girl who was behind the door, but she had heard her pleas. No matter what Ruki was saying, Yuriko felt in her heart this couldn’t be right.

“Yuriko-chan… where are you… going…?” Azusa’s voice stopped Yuriko just when she was about to move to the hallway, leading toward Yuma’s room.

“Umh… I was going to pick up a book from Ruki’s study…”

Azusa stepped in front of Yuriko. ��There are… many books in… the library…” Perhaps he still remembered how Yuriko had slipped from the girl’s bathroom right under his nose since he seemed now to be more aware of her than ever.

“Yes… you’re right, Azusa-kun. I’m sorry. I’ll go back upstairs…” Yuriko turned around, roaming the stairs and finally into her room, closing the door behind her. Sighing, she sat down on the bed, pushing her school bag aside. It fell on the floor, spilling everything on the carpet. “Oh, darn it!”

Getting up again, Yuriko started to collect her things back into the bag. But… there was something that shouldn’t have been there. She sat on the floor and held the book in front of her. The book about magical transformations. It was so odd that the school library had such a tome. Now, when Yuriko peeked at the pages, she realized that the font was curvy, and the paper had a tint of roughness in it. It felt old but not fragile.

Unlike the lower beings, the Founders have the true power of transformations, for they can take the form of any animal connected to demonic species. For instance, Vampires are only able to morph into bats, and Vibora only into snakes, but there are no such limitations for the Founders. We are of higher rank, above all other creatures that have ever roamed these realms.

However, the art of transformation requires skills and hard work. It is not uncommon for the young Founders to fail in this and therefore they must be properly educated…

Yuriko tilted her head to the side. So, this was a book about Shin’s species, the mysterious Founders Ruki hadn’t told too much about. He had simply said that they were dangerous, and should be avoided. But from Yuriko’s point of view, the same could be said about the Vampires.

Turning the page, Yuriko lifted her brows. Someone had scribbled into the marginal with messy handwriting: “Make sure your will is strong enough to recover your belongings while transforming”.

Recover belongings? Yuriko blinked. Like clothes or eyeglasses? She leafed further, absorbing herself into the book. Turning page after page, she couldn’t stop reading. This book was like a treasure handed directly to her, yet she couldn’t completely push away a guilty conscious since she had simply tossed it into her bag without properly borrowing it.

Though I wonder if anyone can even borrow those books in that cellar library… Yuriko nibbled her bottom lip while reading further. Suddenly, a new word jumped into her eyes.

Kitsune.

Gasping, Yuriko rushed further into the text. Why were the Kitsune mentioned in this book about the Founders?

The Kitsune are not originally a demonic species, hence their transformation skills are different from actual demons. Due to their divine origin, their skills are closer to the Founders but, obviously, they will not ever surpass our mightiness. Thus, they remain lesser and are to serve us in various ways as our ancient agreement has stated.

Was this what Shin had meant? He had said something about Yuriko’s kind being servants to his. And what did the divine origin mean? How had the Kitsune been turned into demons? With every piece of new information came more questions.

While the Kitsune are often morphing into foxes, it is not impossible for them to turn into other beings as well. They are able to change their physical traits such as hair and eye color at will and the most experienced individuals have the means to alter their looks completely which makes these foxes nasty tricksters by their nature. They are not to be trusted but they are useful as spies because of this peculiarity alongside their dream walking and fire competency.

I have personally studied Yako Kitsune’s abilities. They seem to persevere skillsets similar to the Zenko. To ensure this stays as it is, it is important to support cross-breeding between these two clans and lure more Zenko into the given land of the Yako. That way we can secure our hold on these unique morphs and use them for the purposes of protecting our position against those who might try to impugn our rule of the realm.

The Yako? The Zenko? Yuriko was even more confused after reading. Were those different Kitsune clans? It seemed so. But then… was Yuriko a Yako or a Zenko? 

“Oh! Yuuto said…!” Yuriko’s brother had mentioned the Yako without any further explanation. That must mean they both belonged to that clan… the clan that had submitted to the Founders. “So… Shin meant what he said… My kind are his servants. But… but… I never signed up for anything like that…”

I need to write this down! Yuriko abandoned the tome on the floor and groveled at her desk. She snatched the first notebook her hand touched and started to scribble her notions there, nibbling the top of her pen every now and then. She leafed through the Kitsune parts of the atlas and made sure every interesting detail was saved into her notebook as well.

Finally, Yuriko leaned her back against her desk. This had been a surprise. While it didn’t help with her current problem, she now understood a bit better where she came from. So… a Yako. Her mother had probably run to the world of the humans as her diary stated. Maybe she hadn’t liked to submit to the Founders or something like that. But now, both Yuuto and she were stuck there.

Shin could just free them, right? But… somehow, I feel like he won’t do it… Yuriko nibbled her pen. So, first… I need to find a way to help Komori-san… and then search for the gate. With this information, I should be able to learn to be a better Kitsune. I can do all this!

“Yosh!” Yuriko was about to close her notebook when her eyes caught its second page. Nalia’s phone number was written there.

Oh! She had contacts who could help with the Vampire matters…! Hastily, Yuriko wrote a message to the woman, asking if she could help her “friend in need”. 

Now, the next step was to learn to transform without losing clothes… Yuriko got up and started to undress. She tossed most of her clothes on her bed and put her glasses on her desk, leaving only her underwear on.

“I… I can do this!”

Still, it took most of the morning for Yuriko to be able to transform back and forth without losing her clothes. Finally, in the early afternoon, she forced her body back to her human form only to realize that the seventh set of underwear was on her again.

Ruki’s not going to like that I made most of my panties disappear… I have lost so many recently. But the thought was lost when Yuriko heard her phone buzzing on the desk. She put her glasses on, grabbed the phone, and tapped the message.

Come and see me in this cafe as soon as possible!  – Nalia

But how…

Yuriko glanced out of her window. It was still raining but not pouring anymore. Still, she wasn’t allowed to leave the manor on her own. Yet, if she asked for this, none of the Mukamis would accompany her. They seemed to think it was okay to keep the Komori girl here even though she kept crying for Sakamaki Shu.

“Oh…” Straightening up, Yuriko hurried to the closet and pulled out the tightest jogging clothes Ruki had agreed to buy her. She dressed up as fast as possible, grabbing her phone and a tiny tote bag with her. Pushing the phone into her bra, she hurried to get her sneakers from the entrance hall.

“Yuriko-chan… what are you… doing now…?” Azusa was on Yuriko’s tail the minute she picked up her shoes.

“Umh… I thought I would go to the backyard to practice transforming. You know how important it is to Ruki that I learn it properly.” Yuriko shifted her weight from one leg to another and tried to look at Azusa as innocently as possible. She truly was a terrible person, doing this once again to him.

“Then… I’ll come with… you…” Azusa leaned down, reaching for his shoes.

“That’s okay, Azusa-kun… please.” Yuriko squirmed and lowered her voice on purpose. “I… I don’t know if Ruki mentioned this… but… but… I still end up naked many times during the transformation… And he wouldn’t want you — nor anyone else — to see me like that. So… I was thinking of going to the back corner of the yard where those huge bushes shadow everything. So, then no one accidentally sees me… without any clothes…”

It took a while before the information sank into Azusa but finally, he nodded. “Ruki… would not like… it. You’re right… Yuriko-chan… But stay in… the yard.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Later we can make dinner together~” Yuriko forced the corners of her mouth to curl up. She pressed the shoes against her chest and hurried to the garden entrance before putting them on. “I try to be fast!”

With that, Yuriko was out and jogging to the corner she had mentioned. She already knew that there was a tiny gate there too. It led to a path that went to the forest, and that was her direction now too. She sneaked out and ran for the woods, only stopping when the manor was far behind her, and she couldn’t see it anymore through the trees.

I can’t be sure I succeed… Yuriko sighed and started to undress once again. She tugged her jogging clothes and glasses into the bag with her phone, then focused on the second task. Her muscles were already complaining, yet she pushed past the aching and called out her inner fox. Luckily, it seemed that the more she did this, the more natural the change started to be for her body.

A few minutes later, the forest had grown enormous while Yuriko was tiny. She grabbed her bag into her mouth and darted on the move, hurrying toward the city. Even though the forest was full of scents, Yuriko could detect the stained smell of the dwellings too. Sprinting as fast as she could, her tiny paws patted the ground as she searched her way to the cafe.

Since Yuriko couldn’t appear in a public place as a fox, she stopped at a park, hiding in bushes while she transformed back. She couldn’t resist a smile as she realized her underwear was still on. She took the rest of her things from the bag, dressed up, and then jogged toward the cafe, arriving there out of breath and rather sweaty. A few people gave her a nasty stare but for once in her life, she didn’t care. Instead, she searched for Nalia with her gaze and almost rushed to the woman’s table.

“Did you have to run away?” Nalia pulled a chair for Yuriko and pushed her water glass in front of the exhausted Kitsune.

“...umh… not really. I’m going back right after this…” Yuriko tugged her sweaty hair behind her ears. She would need a bath and a long sleep when the day would be over. “I can’t stay long though, so please, listen to me…”

As briefly as possible, Yuriko talked about the girl who was locked in Yuma’s room. She didn’t mention names for no one outside of the family probably knew it was Yuma who had taken the girl.

“So… the point being, I think… that the girl is part of the Sakamaki family. I don’t know much about them except that they are the important Vampires…” Yuriko gulped down some water. “I think this girl deserves to be with her family… and… and… I don’t want mine to get into trouble. Is it possible for you to arrange that she is saved but the Mukamis don’t get problems?”

Nalia was silent for a long time, playing with her wild curls. There was a curious undertone in her scent, yet Yuriko brushed the notion aside, drinking more water and waiting for a response.

“It is difficult. The families have their disagreements, I think. This could cause trouble.” Nalia stopped, seeming to ponder. “But… I have a friend who can be trusted. I will tell him where they can find this important girl… and I will say that my special friend is in the house too and should not be harmed. I can promise you that.”

So, Nalia didn’t give her word that the Mukamis wouldn’t be in trouble. That disheartened Yuriko a bit, but she could also understand that it could be difficult to control the actions of the Vampires. All she could do was hope for the best.

“Thank you so much. I hope the girl will get back home soon.” Yuriko nodded, trying to look like they were having a normal conversation. “And… I will thank you properly later. Right now, I have some things of my own going on.”

“May I ask what are those? I hope the Mukamis aren’t putting you in danger.”

Yuriko swayed the air with her hand. “Oh no, of course not! But… but… umh… How should I say this…? My brother is in a pinch, and I wish to help him. So, I need to focus on that.”

“Oh? I see. Family is important. I wish all the best to you and your brother then.” Somehow it seemed like Yuriko’s words had calmed Nalia down a bit.

Thanking Nalia once again, Yuriko hurried out. Her legs were heavy, and when she reached the park, she was sure she couldn’t morph anymore. Yet somehow, she managed to pull that off. And when she was back in her fox form, a sappy smell hit her nose, making her skin crawl. The mere thought of the source of it speeded up her steps and soon, she was running out of the city and back to the woods.

This time, Yuriko didn’t bother to transform back into a human in the forest. Instead, she ran all the way to the backyard of the Mukami manor and stopped only when she reached the bushes she had claimed to use as her cover for practicing. 

Slowly, Yuriko began her transformation. Heavy raindrops hit her fur, but she tried to push the unpleasant sensation away and focus. But she was so tired… exhausted, totally out of energy. Suddenly, everything around her started to dim. Her legs swayed and her mouth gaped, but no voice came out as the darkness consumed her. 

[therenlover]

Brutal (A Demon!Daniel Bruhl x Starlet!Reader Ficlet)

(So, this is the first little ficlet in my Sour series, which can be found HERE! I hope you enjoy it! Also, enjoy blurry Checo, because he’s who @creme-bruhlee and I imagine as demon!Daniel)

“And I'm so tired that I might / Quit my job, start a new life / And they'd all be so disappointed / 'Cause who am I if not exploited?”

Synopsis: A crime of passion accidentally summons a handsome demon who offers to make your deepest desires come true... for a price, of course. 

Rating; M (16+)

Warnings: Vague Allusions to Past Dubcon/Noncon, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Murder, Making A Deal With A Demon, Maybe A Tiny Bit Of Monsterfucking???? If You Squint??? Not Really Though

Word Count: 1500~

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“What is it that you desire?”

The man- no, creature- before you was shrouded in the darkest corner of your dressing room, perched languidly upon the chaise lounge that had been oh so kindly included in the rider of your contract by whatever filthy fucker decided they wanted to have you this time. He didn’t matter now, though. No, not now that his brains were splattered against the carpet. The only thing that mattered anymore was the creature in the corner. 

Even in the darkness, you could see its razor-sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

Trembling with unused adrenaline, you smiled back at it, hands still covered in blood. “I’m not answering that until you answer a few questions of my own,” 

Surprisingly, the thing seemed to lean further back into its plush seat as it nodded, long pointed tail undulating slowly, like a python preparing to strike. “Very well. It makes no difference to me how long you draw out our little deal,” slowly, the thing chuckled, “Besides, for you, pretty one, I’d wait all the time in the world,” 

You groaned at his exaggerated wink. 

Still, it was too late to turn back now. With the blood on your hands for the death of the man at your feet, both physically and metaphorically, there was nowhere to go but forward. Maybe making a deal with the devil wasn’t your original plan, but it sure as hell was better than prison. With a sigh, you sat down heavily into your high-backed makeup chair. 

“So I’m assuming you’re a demon?”

The creature in the corner made some sort of deep, proud noise in its chest as its two, shadowy hands came up to stroke its curved horns, much like a goat’s, with a certain puff-chested reverence. Even while beholding it in that darkness, its features shrouded in black, there was an allure to the strange monster, a strange, sick draw. You were helpless to whatever had appeared before you and all its powers. Somehow, though, you had seemed to intrigue it despite your comparative weakness. 

“I go by many names, but demon is one of them,” it purred, red eyes glinting with something more than bloodlust, “I prefer others,”

“What should I call you then?”

“Whatever you please,”

You scoffed. “You said you had many names, why can’t you tell me even one?”

It huffed a long sigh, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve said that you saw smoke erupt from where its nostrils should be. 

That being said, it didn’t seem like the thing was frustrated. If anything, the creature seemed amused. From its words, you could only assume it had been hundreds of years since it had last entertained itself on the human realm. You could only hope your rage was entertaining enough to keep any of its less desirable emotions at bay. 

“Names have power, Schatz. I can’t just go around telling everybody who I am,” it’s accent felt thicker as it leaned back, “but I suppose, if you and I were to make a deal, that I could allow you to name me something. Or I could choose one for you,”

“What if I didn’t make deal with you?” you challenged the creature with a smirk. 

It hummed low in its chest as it pondered your question. “Now that would be no fun,” 

“For me or for you?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Time was getting short now, with the clock on the wall ticking down the minutes until someone would arrive at your dressing room door to lead you out towards the set where the rest of the cast and crew were waiting. If they found you with the body it was over. Things with the demon needed to be resolved, and they needed to be resolved fast. 

Thankfully, it didn’t toy with you any more than you expected it to. 

“For both of us,” it replied, tail flicking almost excitedly, “I can’t touch you if we don’t make a deal, for better or for worse, and even then your soul wouldn’t be mine to toy with until the deal was complete. That being said, you’re in a pretty sticky situation. I think you need me just about as much as I need you, so I’ll ask again; What do you desire?”

You swallowed thickly. 

On one hand, you couldn’t imagine things would end up very pleasantly for you once the dark shadow who had staked its claim on that awful chaise lounge finally did have a chance to get its clawed hands on your soul. On the other hand, though, you had nothing left to lose. Fame, especially so young, always came at a price. You would wager to guess that even if your soul hadn’t been claimed by a demon, that it had already been stolen away by the producers and directors that pulled the strings of your life like you were some obedient little puppet dancing for an audience who wanted to devour you whole. 

In the end, an eternity in Hell with whatever was grinning at you like the Cheshire cat from the shadows might even be preferable to the horrors you’d already seen. 

Slowly, you answered its question. 

“I want to make every single person who ever took advantage of me suffer the same pain they put me through,” 

The creature’s face split into a toothy smile. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” 

Moving like smoke on water, it stood from its place on the chaise lounge, morphing in shape and size as it approached and held out it’s newly human-shaped hand to you. In his new form, at least, you assumed it was a he, the creature was handsome, all dark eyes and slick hair. He looked young, and somehow, even with his new, thin lips and human teeth, he retained his signature smile. You took his hand and shook it without hesitation.

Even with your heart beating almost out of your chest, you had to admit that, with a demon at your side, you felt more empowered than you ever had before. 

He noticed. 

“I am known to my kin as Asmodeus,” he cooed, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he drew near to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to mind, “You, though, my sweetest pet, may call me Daniel,” 

Daniel. 

Somehow, even after you had seen the faintest traces of his beastly form, you had to admit that the name suited him. Maybe not as well as Asmodeus, but it worked well enough. You looked up at him through lidded eyes. “I’m-”

Before you could answer, he pressed a finger to your rouged lips. 

“I know everything about you sweetling, no need for introductions. There is one last thing we need to do to seal the deal, though,” 

A pit formed in your stomach as you gulped, caught in Daniel’s entrancing gaze. You had to assume there was some sort of magic to it, a spell that kept you trapped for all long as he could stare down into your eyes. Still, it would do you no good to fight it. Besides, the pangs that were making their way through your whole being weren’t fear. 

Oh no, they were something much worse. 

“What do we need to do?” You asked, wetting your lips with your tongue. 

Daniel replied with a sly smile and a soft chuckle. “I need you to kiss me, of course,” 

Who were you to disagree with the expert?

With all the strength and bravery you could muster, you surged up and met Daniel’s lips with your own, melting into the kiss as he quickly took over, skilled tongue darting into your mouth to claim it as his own. He bit hard on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind, not when your hands were busy exploring up under his shirt and finding purchase on the firm muscles that waited below. 

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly keeping his hands to himself either.

Sooner than you would have liked, though, Daniel was pulling his lips away from yours. It was just a fraction of an inch, your swollen mouths still connected by a string of saliva tinted a dark red with your blood, but you were already keening from the loss of him the second you caught your breath. The sound pleased him. 

“What are we to do first, sweetling?” he purred, letting his nails run gently against the soft skin of your waist, “I’m at your command,” His breath was hot against your fact, and he smelled like gun smoke. 

It drove you wild. 

You snuck a look at the clock before turning back to him, eyes aflame. “In about ten minutes we’ll need to have the mess in here cleaned up with any evidence gone, but before we do that, I want you- no, I need you to fuck me. Can you make that happen?”

Daniel beamed. 

“Oh, sweet girl, anything is possible with me at your side,” As he whipped you around to push you against the chaise lounge, licking his lips, he couldn’t help but add, “I believe this is the beginning of a very beneficial partnership,” 

And against all odds, as you hooked a leg up around his waist and pulled him in for another searing kiss, you had to agree.

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a/n: WOW WOW WOW THAT WAS GARBAGE BUT I LOVED IT. I finished season 5 of Lucifer yesterday, so I was in the mood for some demonic shit. I hope it was at least semi-enjoyable despite being straight up shitty writing lol. 

Taglist: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace , @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @be-cautious-around-bri 

[thefanficmonster]

Somebody To Remember

Andrew (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe), slight Spoilers

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Y/N wakes up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people and with a big chunk of memories missing. She’s told she, along with her professor and classmates, was in a bus crash while passing through the town of Little Hope. From that point onward she is trying her best to contribute into the group’s efforts of finding a way out of that place and also piecing together the shards of her broken recollection.

Requested by Dot Anon! Hi there! Sorry for the long wait, but it’s finally here and I hope it makes it worth it! I love writing for Little Hope and I’m very grateful you gave me an opportunity to write for Andrew with your request! Hope you enjoy the read, looking forward to hearing more requests from you! Love, Vy ❤

My eyelids lift just barely before an intense pain takes over my entire skull. Instead of battling through it, I just shut my eyes again. I feel like my head is swimming as though I’ve been spinning in circles for the past five minutes. Speaking of the last five minutes, I don’t remember them. Actually, I can’t recall anything from...I can’t even recall how long it’s been from what I last remember. I hear voices but they aren’t clear - almost like I’m at the bottom of a lake and they are calling out to me from the shore. I make another attempt at opening my eyes, succeeding this time, despite the intense pain.

“Hey, there you are.“ Unlike the rest, this voice sounds to be closer which makes it a lot clearer and easier to understand. “Stay with me now, Y/N.“

I blink a couple times, struggling to get my eyes in focus. When I finally manage, I am met with a pair of greenish blue eyes looking back at me. 

“Hi? Um, where am I?“ I utter hesitantly, letting my gaze wander all over the picture in front of me. I see a boy who appears to be in his late teens, maybe early twenties, I can’t tell. Behind him I see a shorthaired girl and an older man talking. I tap my fingers on the surface I’m sitting on - it’s no doubt gravel. And wait, did he refer to me as Y/N? “Am I Y/N?“ As I speak, I feel a sharp sting on my cheek. I lift my hand to touch the spot where the unpleasant sensation is coming from just to pull my fingers away with a wince, seeing them covered in blood. A pit of fear and panic forms in my stomach. “What happened? Why am I bleeding?“

His eyes widen. He looks border-line horrified as he backs away from me, never taking his eyes off me, though. “Professor, can you come here for a sec?” He says, his hand waving over the older man.

He walks over and crouches next to the boy. “What’s wrong? How are you feeling, Y/N?” He’s looking at me when he asks the question, so I can only assume I really am Y/N.

“She can’t remember anything.“ The boy says, his voice shaky due to what seems like panic, “What do we do?“

I switch my focus between the two, the panic growing stronger within me as well. The professor contemplates his next move carefully before calling out to the girl who is trying to catch a signal with her phone in the air. “Hey Taylor, give me your phone. I need a light.”

“Coming!“ The girl power walks to us, a smile spreading on her face when our eyes meet, “Oh thank God you’re awake, Y/N! I was terrified!“

I brave through the pain so I can return her smile, “Yeah, I’m happy to be awake too. Would be happier if I could recall anything though.”

Her expression morphs into the same one the boy had when I insinuated that I don’t remember anything. Putting her initial shock aside, she hands the professor her phone. He holds it above my face so the screen could illuminate any injuries I might have. Or the injuries I definitely have cause this headache is most certainly not the result of dehydration or lack of sleep.

“I can see some blood beyond your hairline and a cut on your temple, but that’s it. You are probably concussed. Don’t freak out, though, if you can still make sense you’ll be alright.“ He assures me. “I’m John, by the way, your professor. This is Andrew.“ he points to the boy. “I’m your professor, these two, and the other two we don’t really know the whereabouts of are your classmates. This was supposed to be our field trip for a project, but we got in a crash. That’s how you got those cuts and bruises. But, again, don’t worry we will be just fine. Your memories will come back sooner or later.“

Taylor chuckles, “I wouldn’t worry too much. She’s still got her sarcasm.”

“You bet I do.“ I choose to lift the heaviness of the situation, remove the worries from the group. I feel like I owe it to them for not remembering who they are while they obviously care about me. “Now help me up, I don’t plan on sitting here any longer. It’s quite uncomfortable.“

The professor and Andrew lifted me off the ground by my arms, steadying me on my feet. Concussed or not, I have to be prepared for a night of wandering around in a dark and foggy ghost-town. I can’t be a weakling and depend on my team the whole time.

                                                                *  *  *

My head hurts even more now, I didn’t know that was even possible. Whatever expectations I had for this night, they got thrown out the window the second Andrew and Angela were dragged five centuries back in time. Oh yeah, I also met the two other classmates John mentioned - Angela, who’s a very...interesting woman. She is a little high-maintenance and a little stuck up, but nothin I can’t tolerate. Unlike Taylor who I’m afraid will kill the woman just by glaring; and Daniel who is the complete opposite. He’s kind and sweet and really in love with Taylor. They are very cute together. Despite Angela’s attitude it’s clear that she deeply cares about John. I can tell the feeling’s mutual.

But demons and witches aside, my memory that’s slowly repairing is what’s bothering me most. The fragments that are coming back to me are so disconnected from each other and so far apart, it’s almost like I’m just making them all up to fill in the blanks. I’ve gathered most memories for Taylor, who I think is my best friend and some of Daniel, who is also a good friend of mine. Hell, I can even recall a bickering session I’ve had with Angela and I faintly remember arguing with John about a grade. But nothing of Andrew. Not a single memory involving him. I even pulled Taylor aside to ask her if Andrew and I were even friends before this. Her answer only made me feel worse, though. She seemed rather upset when I told her I can’t remember anything regarding him. She said she was surprised. When I asked her why she gave me a vague response that she assumed I’d remember him most. 

Well thanks a lot, Taylor. 

I’ve only started exhausting my brain even more now that her words are stuck in my mind.

‘That’s surprising. One would think you’d remember him first.‘

We’re currently taking a break to catch our breath. The past few hours are just a jumble of running away from these terrifying creatures and being pulled back in time. I can’t piece the logic of anything that has happened and it’s bothering me, probably more than it should.

“Hey, you ok? You’ve been cracking and biting your knuckles for a while now.“ Andrew’s voice shakes me out of my trance. He puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, sitting down next to me.

That’s another thing that has been bugging me - his touch. It’s so damn familiar and so natural! I can’t explain it, but every time he touches me, it just feels like his hand belongs there. It sounds ridiculous, I’m aware, but it’s true. I feel so horrible that I can’t remember anything about him - the fact that he has been my biggest support and comfort this whole time isn’t making me feel any better either. He hasn’t left my side for even as much as a second.

“Yeah, just frustrated. And I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared right now.“ I decide to rant and just get everything off my mind, I feel like he’ll understand. “I can’t piece anything together. Not from what’s happening to us and most certainly not from my past. So many large chunks are missing and it’s driving me mad.“ I cover my face with my hands, “I wish I could understand at least 10% of this insanity. That would be enough to give me peace.”

I can no longer feel him touching my shoulder. Instead, his hands take gentle hold of my wrists, pulling them away from my face. Holding both my hands with one of his, he uses the other to lift my chin so our eyes meet. “It’s OK, Y/N. I know how hard this is for you. I understand this is taking an even bigger toll on you than it is on us. Just know that you can trust us. I mean, it’s not like we know any more than you do, but if anything attacks you, we’ll make sure you make it out alive.” He swipes his thumb over my cheekbone. “I would go through a beheading for you, believe it or not.”

I can’t help but laugh, “I believe you, Andrew. Thank you. Just know that it goes both ways.” I squeeze his hand.

I do believe him. I believe all of them. I have faith in this team and I trust it with my life. I trust Andrew with every fiber of my being.

                                                             *  *  *

It’s over. I can hardly believe it. I can’t believe it.

“We can leave it’s over! Oh my God, it’s over!“ Taylor excitedly engulfs me in a tight hug. Tears are streaming down her face. Tears of relief and joy.

I return the hug with the same amount of strength and tenderness, “I can’t believe it’s over. Oh my God.”

“It is. It really is.“ she whispers to me reassuringly before pulling away and giving me one final encouraging nod.

We are finally free to leave that ruin of a house and this town in its entirety. We can now leave it all behind. We can go home.

I watch as Daniel wraps his arm around Taylor’s shoulders pulling her closer to his side. I see the encouraging smiles of pure happiness that John and Angela exchange. I feel all the positivity radiating off of them.

A gentle warm hand takes hold of my frozen and bruised one. I tilt my head to see Andrew falling in step with me. The warm smile on his face confirms what Taylor told me - the nightmare is indeed over. With the horrors left far behind us and 80% of my memory having returned, I feel reborn.

“Feels amazing, doesn’t it?“ He asks, his grip on my hand is tender but firm - he’s afraid of accidentally letting me slip from his grip, but also afraid of causing me pain by touching the many cuts that litter my skin.

“Words can’t describe it.“ I say with a content sigh, instinctively intertwining our fingers together.

And that puts together the remaining 20% that are missing. That special and intimate contact makes something in my brain click.

I stop dead in my tracks, causing Andrew to stop with me. He raises a confused eyebrow at me. “What’s wrong?”

A laugh escapes my lips, a huge grin plastering itself on my face. “You’re my boyfriend.” 

His eyes go even wider than when I told him I didn’t remember anything. This time it’s due to a different emotion. 

He stutters, “You remember?”

I nod eagerly, “We’ve been dating for seven months now. Daniel introduced us. Taylor kept teasing us saying we should date. We went on our first date more as a joke for the amusement of two of them and then....”

He cuts me off by hugging me twice as tightly as Taylor did. He has put every last bit of his energy into this hug and I’m returning it with every last bit of mine.

“Welcome back completely, Y/N.“ He says, pulling away while still keeping his arms wrapped around me. 

“Glad to be back finally.“ I can’t wipe the dopey grin off my face, not that I’m even trying to at this point.

With zero regards for our audience of four, Andrew presses his lips to mine, marking my return to our reality with a love-filled kiss.

@sparrow-gg  @artlovingbre  @chairtiger

[godkilller]

          They met when the cicadas sang and every cooling breeze was a gift.

          The air was hot and hazy along the swaying tree line spanning across a crooked horizon of mountains beyond. If not for the brilliant beacon of her soul, perhaps they would not have seen her amongst the blurring waves of summer heat blanketing her fallen form on the ground. She was a filthy thing, diminished by the lingering dark, the leeches of creatures which dwelled, too, within this grand forest. A victim of their hunger for a mortal’s essence, this poor human. A little girl all alone.

          When the kami neared, they stopped at the treeline with piercing eyes ablaze. A faint after-image of three men, adults, filthy humans, came to memory that didn't belong to them. Hers, rather.

          These men huddled around her, poking and prodding, such despicable things... as though she were an ant to be squished, prey to be toyed with by the end of a stick. The acts of man could disgust at times, how eerily soulless one could be of their own free will. The influences of demons could excuse very little when regarding a tainted heart. Scorched footmarks indicated such influences had been present, the taste of ash in the air burned at their nostrils. It was a miracle this child still had her soul at all.

          The kami would not appear to her in the same height, the same manner, as the assailants that left her broken and crying. Nor was she young enough, an infant or toddler perhaps, for them to reveal their true form without causing her distress, confusion, and frustration while living out the rest of her mortal life knowing celestial beings walked amongst humans. Perhaps she was already jaded, left incapable of witnessing their genuine form in its entirety, all innocence drained from her. If that was the case, they could have walked forth regardless of appearance, and her mind would fill the gaps and the incomprehensible with something bland and utterly human, normal, capable of being processed with ease.

          No, she still had a thrumming slice of light in her. Best to be reasonable and not test her faith. Instead, they shifted into another smaller form with complete fluidity, elegant robes and tails twisting into the winds and morphing, vanishing, shrinking, dissipating akin to snowfall in the summer air. In the gust of wind that breathed out around him, he stepped outward anew; a child, too. Non-threatening, he even went a year or two younger than her for the sake of her utmost comfort. Friend. I am your friend.

          He stepped forward, put on a smile, and padded down from the confines of the lush trees and brush which cloaked him from sight. The rustling footsteps, bared feet on soft ground, seemed to indicate his approach well enough to rend the girl alert, scrambling to sit up and wipe at her eyes as though being caught in the act of emotion was something of an embarrassment.

          In fact, she got quite defensive over the matter. Puffed her cheeks and everything. Until compassion washed over her, and concern.

          Huh.

          “What’s up with those marks? Are you bleeding?” Puffy eyes widened at him, and she rubbed at them again with the back of her hand as though to clarify what she was seeing.

          Quieter, as though sharing a secret, she spoke again. "Did they get you too?"

          Blinking, he raised a hand to observe, as though unaccustomed to its lightness, its flesh and bone, its power restrained; he felt tiny, contained into this little vessel to appease her. Idly, he found the issue upon the backs of both his hands. Red, smooth, these markings flowed up his wrists and arms beneath the robes he donned, then peeked out at the nape of his neck. As though the canvas for brushwork, brilliant in color, it stained his skin. He could only surmise that a blatant and decently sized crimson circle resided directly at the center of his forehead. Similarly colored lines beneath his eyes, as well as matching painted strokes of red trailing both legs, feet, buffered at the ends by circles just above his toes.

          These were the blood-red designations of a kami, often following him through his other transformations unless he chose to deliberately obscure them. Seemed like he forgot, for a moment, to hide them from her.

          “Oops!” He proceeded to dust himself off as though he recently tumbled through the same dirt she sat on. Each swift and hurried pat, swish, and brushing gesture seemed to quickly vanish those markings from his skin, magic. Like wiping away at a blemish, regardless of the fact that his divine marks were anything but a blemish, and he became less so inhuman.

          He finished the adjustment, straightened up his simplistic yukata, then smiled wide and with triumph. A little shrugged gesture, hands displayed, to show her he was done.

          “Better?” A flop of his hands at his sides, what skin that showed from dark yukata was now as pristine as the rest of him, as though his feet had not touched the ground beneath, as though he did not belong in the same breath as the dirtied rags on her shoulders. In any dimmer lighting, were the days not shining with warming rays of the sun, perhaps a faint cool glow would accompany his form. Numerous efforts were required in order to properly project humanity to her, his restraint being the key. He was attempting to dial things down.

          Normally, he would not have even tried to fit in; appearing in a roar of blinding light and tranquility. Or send a messenger in his stead, copper fur and a mischievous grin. Perhaps he was a tad bit rusty, playing human.

          She blinked at him slowly, recovering from a dazed state. Discreetly, invisibly, he nudged her away from the thoughts that lurked around his strange markings, at the way they dissipated before her very eyes. She blinked thrice more, then seemed to accept his soft tampering of her memory... unbeknownst to her. Not something he did too often, an unfair trick. He disliked influencing humans in such a manner.

          “Y—… yeah... but why’s your hair silver ?”

          ...Ah, he forgot about that. Rustier than he initially thought, then.

          Should he tamper with her again, or knock her out and wipe her memory… and start all over? That felt excessive. But...

          “Oh, uh—”

          Before he could even fathom how to casually adjust his hair color before her very eyes without causing alarm, or whether or not he should simply stun her into a daze to undo his missteps altogether… he felt the girl moving away from the topic on her own accord, thoughts trailing elsewhere, like where he came from, or if it was safe for her to stay here — if the demon-influenced men would return with their scary eyes.

          So he left it as it was, his hair apparently silver. Absently, he decided from here on out to do a once-over by the reflection of a nearby water source… to avoid any further slip-ups.

          She seemed unafraid, otherwise, especially in meeting his vibrant gaze with her icy blue eyes in kind. Others would avert, look away, unable to lock onto his eyes without a feeling of being pierced, of their soul being seen in its entirety, a hushed multitude of whispers caressing their temples, their minds, as his presence quietly overwhelmed them.

          No, she was staying resolute. She could look into his eyes without divinity swallowing her whole. A brave girl full of heart, she did not fear. At least for now.

          “What’s your name, anyway?” She was quick, cutting, a no-bullshit approach to the one who interrupted her moment of vulnerability and sadness. Her nose scrunched, and that telltale sign of wariness began to show.

          Ukanomitama-no-Mikoto seemed like a mouthful, though it was first to come to mind; a lesser-known alternative to the given name humans doted upon for him. And there were too many others, far too many, and far too on the nose. Who was he, again? In days of old, they’d split into three. Or five. Into various shapes, sizes, and genders too. Today, he picked a boy, as lithe as she was. A non-threat, limbs thin akin to stalks of bamboo.

          “I dunno, I’m a lil mixed up right now.” An understatement, apparently.

          “That’s stupid, you don’t even know your name? I know my name, it’s Matsumoto Rangiku . Yours… hm, it’s Gin , ‘cause of your weird hair.” A head tilt was all her harsh tongue earned, a wholly unbothered air. In fact, he bloomed pleasantly at her decision to name him. Accustomed. Accepting. Appreciative. How often humans took in his kin, his shrines, naming torii and foxes alike, giving title here and title there, naming foods and offerings… and naming him, over and over. Naming, naming...

          Gin, then. He was Gin.

          Her thoughts, her scrutiny, veered closer to feeling some semblance of humor about him; how silly, this boy who hadn't even noticed he had those weird red stains on his skin, didn't even know his own name. Silver hair, too. How silly. She thought of him like a wild animal trotting over to her from the brush, as though feral and unaccustomed to seeing another person, unafraid due to ignorance and confidence combined. Curiosity, yes, she titled his motivation quite well.

          Sharp, this girl.

          Through her eyes, her assessment of him seemed fair, and Gin smiled wide in acceptance. The verdict this girl reached was of dismissal, distracted by the sharp reminder of hunger growling at her stomach.

          “Hungry?” He asked, as though unaware, a boy simply answering the cue of that telltale sign. He knew she felt weakened and hadn’t eaten after she ran from her keepers. Several days, now. Midday, she was coming up on the fourth before he intervened, darkness clutching at her to drag her further off into the woodlands and mountains beyond.

          A wandering soul awaiting oblivion, and the leering creatures thought her theirs.

          No, not quite yet.

          Gin knelt down to be at her height, crisscrossing his legs beneath him to settle in, and reached behind his back as though to unfasten a bag of a traveler. Nothing was there, really, nothing at the moment. Yet his patient palm subtly glowed with purpose and want, materializing within it a fruit readied to be eaten. He reckoned she’d want something sweet, and by his divine right it felt appropriate to give her one meant for longevity, delivered directly from the plentiful harvests he presided over.

          “Here, I got this for ya,” Gin offered out the persimmon from behind his back, and watched as she squinted to peer around him, seeking out the tell of his little trick. Ever the skeptic, she sought out answers she could not immediately identify, this nameless boy that had blood-red marks on him, who did magic tricks with fruit.

          Scoffing out a blow of air, she relented, then took it.

          “Did you hide this up your sleeve? You’re so weird,” she whined out, though appeased herself swiftly with a big bite of his offering. Already, the diminishing glow of her soul was mending itself, illuminated by the unseen fury of celestial light embodying him. They sat together as she ate.

          “Maybe, I like pullin’ tricks like that.” He reached back again, mirroring his earlier actions, and returned his palm out before him carrying another persimmon within it. He plopped the fruit into her lap and swayed back and forth playfully. “See? Pretty cool, huh? Wait, I think there’s one more …”

          Reaching back, Gin brought forth a rock instead and acted visibly confused.

          “Eh? How’d that get in there?” He dropped the rock, then made a show of searching his sleeves. She barked out a laugh, cheeks full of fruit and a smile full of light.

          Gin beamed.

[sophi-s]

Cost of Kindness

Chapter II: Fear me not

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6373

Characters: Raphael, Original Character (OC)

Warnings: Blood and injury, suffocating, violence, Raphael is sad :(

Summary:

Nicola is quick to find trust in herself and quick to lose it. She doesn't realise however, that the man she fears sees something in her others cannot. And this something is what made him save her life again.

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

Through the few short weeks, the apocalypse has taught the dying Humanity many different things. Resourcefulness, cunning, true strength of unity… and among other things, the cruel life had taught them, was bravery in its purest form. Bravery that isn't simply an absence of fear but the power to overcome it. Stay cool-headed even in the most extreme scenarios, allowing them to face down even the most horrifying demons and either get away mostly unscathed or sometimes even beat them if they were lucky. Without those traits, survival was nigh impossible these days.

This last very important lesson however, Nicola seemed to have quite spectacularly failed to learn. Even as lucky as she was - considering that she lived thus far - she never was the bravest creature in this God-forsaken world. Smart? Sometimes. Ingenious? Sure. But brave? Not really, no. Especially now, as she was staring up at the angel who she decided to trust not even a minute before and who has just ruthlessly murdered a demon with little to no remorse in a very, very sickening way. Her muscles refused to move as though Raphael had already used the spell of paralysis against her as she watched the corners of his mouth, previously quirked upwards in a small smile, slowly descend. His expression in the matter of seconds morphed into confusion when a quiet sob escaped her. This horrifying, agonized screeching was still ringing in Nicola's ears, the demon kept writhing before her eyes and she couldn't help but wonder.. what did it feel like? To have one's life drained like that. Because judging by the sounds the Goreclaw produced, it must've been truly torturous.

"Human…?"

The soft voice of Raphael snapped her out of this strange haze and the sight of his hand extended towards her once again made her heart jump and begin to race. Her mind was telling her that if Raphael wanted to harm her, he would've done it already. Besides, moments before the demon came, he healed the cut on her forehead demanding nothing in return. Only because he could and - for some reason - wanted. But the chilling claws of panic gripping her throat and the fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, screaming inside her head made the voice of reason merely an inaudible whisper drowning in the sea of primal fear of the possible approaching danger. And right now, her body definitely settled on "flight".

"No! "

She yelped and tried to get away but her heels met the corpse behind her and it caused her to trip over the husk of the once frightening demon. With an expression of shock, Raphael retracted his hand as her rear painfully met the tough and damp floor. There was utter horror gleaming in her emerald green eyes, matched by lack of comprehension in his.

"Why are you frightened?"

And he has the audacity to ask why. Nicola thought bitterly as she started to scramble away. At the first glance, Raphael seemed so kind, he was such a gentle soul. Even his face, despite the collapsed cheeks, has the most trustworthy look to it Nicola had ever seen. This kind is the worst. Makes you trust them, lower your guard.. It seems she'd conveniently forgotten about one fact she noticed moments after she found Raphael. He's completely, absolutely and utterly insane. Unpredictable. At first he couldn't even remember his own name or how he got here. Who can guarantee her that he won't have an abrupt change of heart and lash out at her? She wasn't going to take chances. Leaping up to her feet, Nicola blindly runs off into the dark pathway she initially emerged from, her shotgun left forgotten on the floor just as she heard an almost frantic-sounding call echoing from the haphazard hide-out alongside the sound of rustling feathers and cloth.

" NICOLAAA! "

To her, this shout may have as well been a roar of a Fallen that not so long ago nearly succeeded in ending her life. A golden hue on the walls glistening with wetness trembled and started to move. No one had to say that out loud for her to realise that the angel was actually chasing after her. And to think that merely seconds ago Raphael was struggling with standing up properly… The pain of her overworked legs was gone, forgotten. They carried Nicola like a completely different entity, moving on their own, tireless and strong with only one purpose. Get away. Survive. Escape.

How Nicola managed to get to the point where she started her sightseeing tour of the sewers without any source of light and without tripping over all those bodies she found before was a mystery even to her. Even the slickness of the ladder didn't phase her as she pushed the lid off and quite literally pounced out of the hole in the sidewalk like a puma. She only hoped she'd managed to lose her pursuit in the winding corridors. Placing the lid back where it belonged, Nicola immediately booked it for the nearest alley just to be sure.

Once she was more or less hidden, she leaned against a crumbling wall, breathed out silently and covered her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sobs. She thought that for once she found something that wasn't about to end her where she stood but it seems that the Universe has taken it as a matter of some twisted honor to slaughter every single member of the human race. This is just unfair. Sure, there was a lot of people who deserved to be smited into oblivion by the God himself for what they'd done but if the apocalypse was supposed to be some kind of punishment, then for fuck's sake why does the entire race has to suffer for it?! How is this even fair ?!

It's not. That's how.

Nicola looked up at the night sky glittering with numerous stars, winking at her like thousands of watching eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks, leaving clean trails in the dust and grime. Eventually, her heartbeat started slowing down, her breath evening out and the adrenaline gradually receding from her system. Now she had a moment to clear her head and think. She had no doubts she can be forgiven for running away. Every person in their right mind would do the same in her situation. Nicola refused to die like this.. But on the other hand… This panic in Raphael's voice, the almost childishly innocent smile as he closed the cut on her skin and the gentleness to his every move as he tried to heal a defenseless kitten… God, this is so… so… Nicola couldn't even find the right word. Despite what the angel did to that Goreclaw, no one said he meant to hurt her too. He may be crazy but that doesn't mean he's a psychotic murderer. This was a demon and angels rightfully hate demons! In his mind there was most likely nothing wrong with that. Besides, she gave Raphael no reason to think of her as a target. All of the sudden, Nicola felt unbelievably foolish for running off like that. Raphael saved her life after all. And she acted nothing if not horribly ungrateful. Should I go back? She'll have to anyway. In a hurry, she left her weapon back down there and Haven was short on those… Dang it…

She sighed. It honestly made her feel like a moron. Damned survival instincts… Sure, they were keeping her alive all the time but sometimes they were just so incredibly annoying. Why would they make her run away from someone who protected her even though he had no reason to do so and nothing to gain from it? From the first angel who seemed to care what fate befalls her? Goodness me, this is so stupid… Nicola shook her head and was about to walk back to the entrance to the sewer when she noticed something in an adjacent alley. Seeing a pair of hungry yellow lights slowly moving closer to her, just above the ground made her heart drop. Her sight has long got used to darkness and so it took her only a fraction of a second to notice curved, black horns above them, long and spindly arms on either side of a slender body ending in a long, scaly lube. A snake-like tail…

With a pounding heart, Raphael quickly moved through the sewer that has long ago turned into his hide-out. Tracking down the strange little human who unexpectedly visited him in his "lair" was harder than it seemed. She was way faster than he would have given her credit for. By all means, in her short legs she shouldn't be that quick. Fear does strange things to people.. But why was she afraid? This short meeting was inarguably the most wonderful thing that happened to him ever since he left the White City. He couldn't quite remember how long ago it was but definitely too long for his taste. All he recalled was the horrible, sharp bite every time he repeated the ritual to finish his greatest creation, followed by a short-lived feeling of elation soon to be replaced by deathly cold within the centre of his being. Each time getting worse and worse until he couldn't stand it anymore. Quickly descending into madness caused by never-ending pain and the chill of his damaged soul, the invisible wound in his chest as cold as a forgotten grave, he knew he can't keep doing this. And so, after having lost his purpose, there was no reason for him to stay anymore. He refused to disappoint his brethren.

You've fulfilled your task. They don't need you anymore.

Raphael halted for a moment, blinking to try and chase away the taunting whisper in the back of his head. It is not true.

"You're wrong. They do. More than ever…"

In the premature Endwar, Heaven's Legions probably wished he was with them. But that doesn't change a thing. He's not going back. Not after he failed to save Ithuriel as an unexplainable surge of panic paralyzed both his hands and his magic. It still sometimes haunts his damaged memories… The young warrior slowly languished from a poisoned wound, grew weaker and weaker with every moment and the archangel couldn't move, couldn't even speak to call for help. Just.. stood there and watched unable to act. Until… A painful twinge through his chest made him wince. No. He can never allow something like this to happen again. He cannot fail them.. He refused to let anyone down like that. Ever.

Frankly speaking, Raphael started to wonder when he'd taken to talking to himself. Solitude clearly wasn't serving him… It's been so long since he had anyone to speak to and even longer since his mind felt this clear. This woman, Nicola, told him she is a human. Considering what has happened to the Third Kingdom, Raphael found it hard to believe. But the spark of life in her soul… it really did feel human. She wasn't a fiend from the Black Depths, nor was she of his own kin. Earth was where she belonged. But there was something in her… something so oddly familiar.. soothing. A flame like those burning in hearts of Heaven's people, just somehow fainter. Only a small fraction of it. Maybe her soul belonged to an angel before it was purged by the Well? Who knows?

But that aside, she was still human. And so, it might as well make her the last survivor of her race and the first creature to show him a lick of sympathy ever since he chose the path of a hermit. The Balance was in danger and this human was imperative for its preservation. For the first time in decades, Raphael felt needed. He had a purpose again. No one was forcing him to do this but the words in a caring tone leaving Nicola's mouth and clear concern for his well being even though she barely knew him for a couple of minutes were something he has been so… so dreadfully missing. As confused as he was by her attitude, he couldn't deny that it was… nice. How long has it been since someone expressed clear worry for him? Too long… The archangel wished this odd mortal near even if for just a short moment because strangely enough, her kindness directed specifically to him somehow eased the never-ending suffering and helped him focus his thoughts that kept running rampant without control whenever he couldn't busy himself with something other than the hole in his chest. And now they were focused on one goal. Find the human.

Raphael waved his bandaged hand through the air before him to invoke a spell and frowned when he detected the familiar presence he was searching for somewhere over his head. She must've left for the city above him. Right where she's out in the open for demons to pick out. Why did she run?

She knows what you are. And she is just a human. Of course she would run like a coward.

No. Raphael brushed this poisonous voice off. Believing in a single word it says will mean his failure. If he does, he will be doomed. Forever lost in the depths of insanity. No matter.. Channeling his magic, Raphael warped and reappeared amidst the sorrowful ruins of the city once inhabited by hundreds of humans. A wave of fresh air hit him in the face and for a moment made his head feel like it was spinning. His eyes opened wide when he took a huge gulp of oxygen. He never realised how sweet it can taste. After such a long time in the damp darkness… The stars peered down at him from the moonless sky, shining like shattered diamonds woven into black velvet. Enchanting and stunningly beautiful. If it wasn't so dangerous out here, Raphael would've surely been more eager to leave the dark pit he was stuck in to marvel at the Earth's still present beauty but such as it was… The moment he let his eyes wander across the vast expanse of the Earthen sky, his feathers bristled at the sound of a shrill cry of fear that tore the silence asunder. A cry of a female voice. Familiar voice. It could only mean one thing. His heart skipped.

Rushing towards the source of the scream, Raphael soon discovered the reason right behind a corner. The same human that indulged him in a much needed interaction, that calmed his restless spirit, was now struggling against the tightening coils of a serpentine body of a demon sorcerer which apparently has picked her as its midnight snack. Already feeling a mist of rage fall over his mind, Raphael shook his head to shrug it off for a little longer. Keeping his head as cool as he could, he performed a gesture with his hands as a string of words in his mother tongue slipped past his lips and his vision zeroed on the Shadowcaster.

Nicola was absolutely sure these were her final moments on this horrible, horrible world when the Shadowcaster jumped at her from a nook and wrapped its tail around her to try and strangle the life out of her like a gigantic, twisted constrictor snake, and watch her perish in suffering. What an awful way to die. Seeing the wicked grin of this malformed face as the last thing before her consciousness leaves her for good. Nicola hoped that if she had to die, then at least she would be sent off by a friendly face… But it seems that God denied her even this last, small comfort.. She fought ferociously against the crushing pressure that was successfully preventing her from catching another breath but to no avail. Her lungs felt as though they had been set on fire and her desperate wriggling only made the demon laugh excitedly as it whispered something she couldn't understand. She didn't have to though. Something told her it was nothing nice.. Dark spots started to gather in the corners of her vision and slowly encase her mind in darkness and she has already come to terms with the fact that this time she isn't getting out of this one alive when… the hold the Shadowcaster had on her loosened.

Taking a wheezing breath, Nicola fell over, still trapped in the coils of the scaly body. What? Once her vision cleared out a little, she saw her attacker lying stiff like a statue with its nasty eyes, previously burning with malice, now opened wide in shock and a web of golden lights crawling across its skin spoke for itself. Before any coherent thought could form in her head she was suddenly yanked free from the demon's grasp by an invisible force. A small cry escaped her when she felt a sharp sting on her thigh where the monster held her with its claws and soon she was gently deposited on the ground. Looking up into a pair of big, white eyes blinking down at her upside down from underneath a green, ragged hood.

"Raph-... phael…?"

She gasped to let her crushed lungs expand properly, though she needed no answer. It was him. He did follow her. And he saved her bacon. Again. Nicola truly wanted to laugh. If there were any doubts still left in her mind that Raphael is a friend before, they disappeared at this very moment. You bloody idiot, you ran from a dude who was trying to protect you and almost got yourself killed in the process. Nicola scolded herself inwardly as she struggled to breathe properly. No running again. Although she was most glad to see Raphael, she immediately noticed something was wrong. He was looking at her but without this soft smile. His eyebrows were knitted together in an expression of worry and… guilt? Why the…? And that's when she noticed that his eyes were flicking between her face and the spot on her leg which was quickly starting to grow warm and wet. Craning her neck to see, Nicola nearly choked once she caught the sight of three deep gashes torn into her flesh. And they were spurting about a lot of blood… Like.. a lot.

"You're bleeding… Hurt…"

His hesitant words only confirmed that it wasn't a hallucination caused by oxygen deprivation. Nicola bit her lip and tried to find that healing shard in her pocket but between being nearly choked to death, her empty stomach, sharp pain and seeing that amount of blood leaving her injured appendage she felt too dizzy to keep her head up and laid back down on the ground with a miserable mewl.

"In the eyes of our blessed Father, your days are numbered, foul beast.."

She heard Raphael hiss through his teeth once he looked up towards the place where the Shadowcaster was surely still face planting under the influence of the spell and his troubled frown turned into a scowl. There was this weird sound once more. Oh my God, he's doing it again… Nicola gulped, already preparing for the round two. Even though she was certain now that she had nothing to fear from him, it still doesn't mean she liked what she saw back then when the Goreclaw jumped her. She was already hearing the screeches of the demon even before they could come to be but this time no such thing happened. Something was different. The light that coalesced around Raphael's hand was not green but golden as the magic vibrated through the air once again. Everything lasted but a second. And instead of a series of pained shrieks, Nicola heard a single, sickening crunch. And then silence. Nothing more. Whatever happened, it was quick and mostly quiet. Probably because they were outside and more demons undoubtedly prowled nearby, and Raphael was definitely smart enough to realise that. Thank goodness… Nicola breathed before she saw the shimmering stars swimming before her eyes quickly starting to disappear along with her hearing. Soon, she slipped her eyelids closed in spite of the pain in her leg and found herself sliding into the dark. Hold on. Just a little longer.. Just… a little…

… longer…

If anything could be said about Shadowcasters, was that their skeletons, as flexible as they are, characterize with astonishing brittleness. One flick of Raphael's wrist was more than enough to snap its neck and give it a far quicker and more merciful death than it deserved. He couldn't allow himself for another drain as it would bring half of the Horde bearing down on both him and the wounded human at his feet. Besides, he didn't feel in need of its energy. The human…

Looking down at her, Raphael felt his heart cease for a second. She was lying there on her back, pale and motionless, her intricate green eyes shut. Alive, the blaze in her soul flickering, but clearly unconscious. Blood was still oozing from the wound he himself had made because of the spontaneous decision to wrench her free from the fiend's hold. He wasn't careful enough and failed to notice that the demon dug its talons into her skin. The archangel had seen a fair share of pain. He used to be the head healer back in the White City after all. The number of warriors he'd pulled out of the cold clutches of death was impossible to count. But somehow this was different. The poor woman was defenseless, weak and delicate. She couldn't even fight the demon that tackled her.

Azrael was right. Humans are very, very fragile.. Compared to other races, they were frighteningly easy to crush. Anything could kill them. From eating something wrong, through illnesses, to even falling into the water. Truth be told, Nicola was the first human Raphael had met in person and he didn't want her to be his last. Just stay calm. Don't panic… Not now… Kneeling down next to her, so small in comparison to him, Raphael gingerly peeled the torn trouser leg off the wound and placed his quivering hand over it, concealing the whole thing with his palm. His magic began to flow into the human once again to seal the torn flesh but there was very little time he had.

He barely managed to lessen the bleeding when a sound of a distant roar and a crash of a car being tossed aside, reached his ears. His head snapped up as his eyes darted around, searching for the owner of this cry. He would recognise it even in his sleep, even if the last scraps of his sanity left him. A Trauma was somewhere nearby. No doubt heading in this direction, attracted by the commotion and possibly the smell of blood as well. And a Trauma he couldn't afford to fight right now. Those things are hearty enough to break through his magic and get to him before he is able to put them down. Scooping up Nicola into his arms, Raphael wrapped his dusted wings around both her and himself and with a single arcane word they both vanished, leaving only a trace of quickly dissipating golden glow in their wake.

-

How long had she been out, Nicola couldn't tell. All she knew that she felt as though someone ran into her with a car. Her breaths were shallow and her heart was beating way too fast for comfort. Groaning quietly, she laid her arm over her face before opening her eyes. To see a dark, damp ceiling gently illuminated by a warm light. Where the Hell-...? The last second before the blackout came back to her like a punch to the gut. The Shadowcaster. Raphael.. With a startled gasp, she shot up, looking about, promptly regretting her decision when the world started to spin again. And to her utter astonishment, she was once again in the small section of the sewers where she met Raphael, settled on some ratty blankets and covered with another one that fell from her chest the moment she stirred.

"Keep still.."

She heard and nearly jumped when she felt a hand fall onto her shoulder and gently coax her into lying down again. And honestly, with how nauseous and weak she felt, Nicola wasn't about to resist and let herself be lowered to the ground. Unsurprisingly now, she saw the familiar scrawny angel sitting cross-legged next to her and staring intensely at her with those big, disturbingly hollow eyes. He brought her back into his hidey-hole? It looks like it.. Why exactly however, Nicola couldn't tell. And there wasn't much she could read from those eyes. A couple of seconds passed. A minute. Two. Five. And he still kept staring. The awkward silence continued until Nicola decided to break it by clearing her throat.

"Uh… what's up, buddy?"

If she wasn't feeling like shit, Nicola would've burst out laughing when she saw Raphael look up at the ceiling confused but she really didn't have strength to explain that this was just an expression. Chucking to herself quietly, she rubbed her eyes with pads of her fingers to clear her blurry sight a little when again her stomach loudly demanded nutrition. And the poor angel who was still looking at the ceiling quite literally jumped away and glared at her abdomen distrustfully when it "growled at him". Seems like angels know as little about humans as humans about them…

"What… was that.?"

Carefully pulling herself up to a sitting position, miserably failing to stop a fit of giggles - even though it pulled her sore muscles over her ribs - Nicola waved her hand dismissively. Any fear she once felt in the presence of Raphael was gone now. Not only did he rescue her twice but the way he was getting confused or spooked by literally anything Nicola did - purposefully or not - was just somewhat endearing.

"I'm just hungry.. I haven't eaten for a whole day.."

"Oh… hungry… hmmmm… Yes.."

Raphael murmured, seemingly a little embarrassed by the whole situation and twisted his body around to reach for something. Furrowing her eyebrows, Nicola tried to shift to see what exactly he was doing back there but she didn't see a lot. At least not until he turned to face her again and very slowly - like he was afraid he would frighten her again - extended his hand to her. And in his palm sat a paper bag where undoubtedly Nicola's sandwich was. Hesitantly, she reached for the packet that rustled encouragingly and a faint, pleasant smell of cheese, ham and pickled cucumbers emerged from within. A nice change from the stench around. It wasn't much but made her mouth water nonetheless.

"Thanks.. though I'd be glad if you didn't go through my things. Okay?"

"Okay…"

He replied with a nod and sat down again, watching Nicola devour - not eat - devour half of her sandwich in a few bites. Goodness, she was so hungry she could eat a horse.. However, halfway through something beside Raphael's thigh caught her attention. There, next to his knee sat a small cat. The same back and white kitten the angel was taking care of before. Looking at her with those blasted big, green eyes with pupils expanded almost to the point where its irises weren't visible and hungrily licking the sides of its mouth. At first she tried to ignore it. But the cursed look cats, especially the little ones, can give! The longer it stared at her, the more sure she was that she doesn't have the appetite anymore.. Goddamnit. Pulling a slice of ham out of her sandwich - the only part that would be of interest to it - Nicola clicked her tongue and offered the food to the kitten.

"Here, little buddy.. Come here."

I'm too soft for my own good. One day, some cat will be the death of her… Carefully and slowly, the kitten approached her, sniffing the piece of meat before snatching it out of her hand and retreating into the safe place behind Raphael to consume the gift. Cats can smell good people from a mile. Looks like she was wrong to ever doubt Raphael had anything but good intentions. Smiling slightly, the angel reached out to the cat and brushed his knuckles against the black fur around a new scar on its back. The loud and comforting purr interrupted only by an occasional swallow rung out and made even Nicola smile as she finished her own food. Even with how meager her snack was, hopefully it was going to last her at least until she finds her way back to Haven. One day of poor eating wasn't going to kill her after all.

When she was done, she peeled back the blanket to examine her injured leg. Nicola pulled a face at the three - even if mostly closed - claw marks on her thigh and the bloodied trouser leg. It didn't look that bad anymore but she could imagine that it would definitely slow her down. The slightest move was causing her mild discomfort. Running and walking anywhere is definitely off the table for now. Still, Nicola much preferred the dull ache that was now in place of excruciating throbbing.

There was no doubt in her mind that this is all once again thanks to the kind, even if a bit unhinged, angel who was now sitting beside her with a quietly purring kitten nested on his lap as he kept stroking its head and back and murmuring something to himself in a strange, melodic language Nicola couldn't understand but found beautiful and enchanting nonetheless. She watched Raphael for a few moments, listening to his deep, soothing voice that made her feel a bit sleepy. After the apocalypse Nicola rarely slept well because of nightmares. And it showed. But before she inevitably dozed off, she felt she had to say something.

"So uh…"

She started, successfully getting his attention, judging by how his eyes shifted to look at her.

"Um… Thanks. For… for everything I guess.."

For a whole minute Raphael didn't answer, simply watched her with his head tilted to the right, a silent question in his eyes. Nicola scratched the back of her neck awkwardly and decided to clarify.

"You know.. for saving my butt two times now, treating me.. And sorry I ran away. I was scared, you got pretty spooky with that Goreclaw back then…"

"Oh…"

He replied with raised eyebrows.

"Forgive me then… I did not mean to frighten you…"

"Oh, no no no, you don't have to be sorry, it's okay! I'm not scared anymore.."

Nicola assured him quickly. Making him feel bad for it wasn't her intention at all.

"Seriously though. Thank you.."

She repeated with a grimace when she tried to shift to a more comfortable position but the ache in her leg made it significantly more difficult. With an empathetic look to his face, Raphael steadied her by returning his hand to her shoulder and moving the other - already radiant with his Heavenly magic - to her wound. The prickly sensation came back, bringing relief in pain as he sighed tiredly.

"This is.. my duty…"

As surprising as it was, Nicola couldn't deny that Raphael seemed to have changed in some way since she found him absolutely deranged. Now he seemed a little more… collected. Focused. Calmer. But simultaneously even sadder and very jumpy. Still, he remained as mysterious as he did before. But maybe if he retains this composure, Nicola could pry something from him about his background. Why is he here alone? What happened to him? How did he get here? There were way too many questions to ask at once but she had to start with something.

"Your duty? You're some sort of a… uh, what shoudma' call it? Doctor, medic, something like that?"

Despite the question being seemingly innocent and harmless, Raphael reacted by turning his eyes down to look at his hands as he flexed his fingers a couple times with a barely noticeable wince twisting his lips. His answer was so quiet that Nicola barely caught it.

"... was… I left.."

"Huh? Wh- why?"

At that, Raphael looked up at her, again with this tortured gleam in his eyes that made her heart squeeze painfully and shyly pointed at Nicola's side.

"It hurts.."

He chimed as she stared at her own hip in confusion. Again, the angel was making no sense. Her side didn't hurt for one, and two, it can't have been the reason why he left… whatever he left to abandon his previous life. A little startled that maybe he knew something she didn't, Nicola probed the place he pointed out but all she could feel was the healing shard in her… in her pocket… All of the sudden she recalled what Raphael told her before.

Hesitantly, she dug the glowing crystal out of her vest and lifted it for Raphael to see better and asked a wordless question which he answered almost immediately.

"The shards… they hurt me.."

This was probably the lowest Nicola's eyebrows have ever descended, making the look of confusion on her face even more blatant. I thought they were supposed to be healing shards? Why would something made to heal one person hurt another?

"How?"

With an expression of anguish, Raphael placed his hand over his chest and took a small gasp of air as if to make his point.

"I created them.. and some of them hurt…"

The revelation made Nicola's jaw fall slack. She'd been suspecting this before when Raphael referred to the crystal as "his" shard but hearing the confirmation almost had her gag. How many times a healing shard has saved either her or someone else from the Tree, she couldn't count on both of her hands. After Ulthane snatched her from the Fallen's talons it took the large one to heal her and make sure she survives afterwards and still it shattered after it served its purpose. At this very moment, no one could ever convince her that the sad, mad angel before her is evil in any way. With a huff of disbelief she shook her head, shifting her gaze between Raphael and the shard.

"Wait, hold up, you made those?! Oh.. my God, I could kiss you, my dude."

A very undignified snort almost escaped Nicola when she saw the face Raphael made. Something between astonishment, horror and curiosity. She remained oblivious to how improper it sounded in his ears. He cocked his head again. Goddamnit. Every time he does that, Nicola just… can't. It constantly reminds her of a puppy looking at some bizarre wonder of nature.

"But.. why would you want to do this..?"

"It's an expression. In other words, I wanted to say I can't thank you enough. How did someone like you ever end up in… like- like this?"

Nicola said "like this" in the last moment before she could say "in such a shitty situation" because she realised just in time how inappropriately awful this sounds, considering they're in the damned sewers. I'll have to learn to stop accidentally making jokes.. For some reason Jones absolutely adored her for it, unlike most of her friends who kept either groaning or facepalming every time and begging her to stop before they kicked a bucket from the sheer badness of her jests. The kitten in Raphael's lap meowed in annoyance when it lost the touch of the angel, coaxing him to keep smoothing out its fur still stained with dried blood. He did, and Nicola didn't miss that he was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"Long story.. very long.."

"That's alright, we have time!"

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her curiosity was just too strong. Besides, Nicola wasn't going anywhere anytime soon with how her leg was fairing (just thinking about how worried Ulthane and the rest have to be made her a little sick) and she honestly doubted Raphael is going anywhere either. But the way it came out made her sound like she was prying to get to something the angel clearly wished to keep to himself. Whether because it was something to be ashamed of or something very unpleasant to speak of. In honesty, Nicola was sure he would scowl at her for this but he simply looked away with a grim look on his face. And it was even worse because it made her feel awful.

"Oh… sorry, if you don't wanna talk about it then it's alright! You don't have to tell me."

"Another time.. rest now."

He hummed and extended one finger towards Nicola's forehead. Before she had time to ask him what he was doing, he lightly poked her right between her eyebrows and all of the sudden she felt unbelievably drowsy. She blinked a couple of times but everything was starting to double before her eyes which were closing all by themselves. With a wide yawn Nicola soon fell into the embrace of magical slumber Raphael called upon her.

He caught her before she could fall down and lowered her onto the blankets to let her sleep in peace. The poor human needed her rest to make up for the amount of blood she lost merely an hour before. Sitting back, Raphael settled for keeping a silent vigil over her until magic wore off. What am I going to do with you? He wondered. For some reason he felt so inexplicably drawn to her and couldn't help it. Something about her was just easing in the pain and warming up the empty void in his tormented soul, even if only a little. The small animal he rescued before rubbed its fuzzy head against his hand and started to knead the fabric of his trousers with its laughably tiny claws that compared to demons' talons were nothing. Still, it stung a tiny little bit. Despite this, Raphael let it curl up in his lap again and fall asleep as well while he watched the human woman and the strange spark dancing within her like a candlelight.

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

Chapter II is done! Getting angsty. And say hi to Raphael's kitty. Isn't it cute? :3

Also, here's part 1 if you haven't seen it yet.

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act II, #5 ~ Trust Me (Mark Lee)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: AU, Magic, Comedy, Crossover, Halloween

Word Count: 2,604

Pairing: Reader x Mark

World: NCT ft. GOT7

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

You whipped around, putting on the most innocent face you could muster as your eyes met Jaebum’s. “I was waiting for Jackson to finish getting his makeup done.”

He raised a brow. “Oh really? What’s that behind your back?”

“A wall?”

“Y/N.”

You pouted, showing him the tree frog you held. It had been enchanted, so it was glowing a faint pink.

“Do I want to know?”

“If he touched it, he would fall madly in love with it,” you grinned. “It would be YouTube gold!”

He sighed, facepalming. “You know you’re not supposed to use magic outside of battle.”

“Che, where’s the fun in that?” you scowled, allowing the frog to sit on your shoulder so you could fold your arms. “There hasn’t been a battle in months. I’m gonna get rusty!”

“You’re constantly using your powers, you’re not gonna get rusty,” he chuckled.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

The door opened behind you and Jackson stepped out, wearing a suit. “How do I look?”

“Tame and average.”

“You little – ”

You dodged when Jackson tried to grab you, using Jaebum as a shield. “You’re far too slow to catch me!”

Jaebum could only sigh as Jackson chased you around the hall, trying and failing to grab you. When did he sign up to be a parent? More importantly, where could he unsign?

A burst of power suddenly struck you and you froze, your senses hyper-aware as you tried to hone into the source. You almost had it tracked down when Jackson tackled you to the ground, making you lose your connection.

“Dumbass!” you cursed at him, smacking his head. “Can’t you feel that?”

“Feel what?” he looked at you dumbly.

“Do you sense something?” Jaebum inquired.

You nodded. “It only lasted for a second, but I felt a burst of power. Someone strong is in the building and they are using their power for something.”

“Can you track it?”

“I tracked it to the east side of the building, but someone broke my concentration before I could get an exact location. I won’t be able to track it until they use their power again, but it feels like they are using a barrier technique to hide their aura.”

“Great,” Jaebum muttered. “Jackson, get to your photo shoot. Y/N, I’ll come with you.”

“No, I’ll go alone,” you stood up, offering him a smile. “No offense, but you’ll just get in the way.”

“Offense is taken, but understood. Be careful.”

“Careful is my middle name!”

Both boys scoffed, not believing that you could claim such a thing. You were one of the most reckless people they had ever met.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” With a thumbs-up, you took off for the east wing of the building, keeping your senses open for even the tiniest of magical spikes.

One thing you had learned early on during your training as a witch was to always listen to your instincts. As a witch, you were more in tune with the wavelengths of objects around you and the soul lengths of people. Even if this person was hiding their power, your instincts could still point you in the right direction.

You found yourself entering a large storage room, filled with old and broken equipment. The room was dark, dimly lit by a bulb that had seen better days. It was cold and everywhere you looked was metal. Why did this building have such a large room? You had no idea, but your gut was telling you that you needed to be there.

“Wh-What do you want from me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I. Want. You.”

You followed the voices. A brown-haired boy was being pinned to the wall, fear in his eyes. A woman stood in front of him, holding his wrists in place. You could tell with one look that she was a witch and you recognized the magic sparkling on her lips as she leaned down to kiss him.

“Oi, don’t you know love magic is illegal?” you called out, stopping her before their lips could connect.

Her head whipped up, eyes flashing angrily. “Mind your own business,” she hissed, eyes turning red.

“When you’re making all this noise and breaking witch laws, it becomes my business.”

She laughed, releasing the boy to turn her attention to you. “You’re not an Archmage, what right do you have to enforce witch law?”

“I’m a witch hunter,” you grinned proudly. Your family had been witch hunters for generations, using their magic to uphold the law of their kind and keep the ignorance of normal humans intact. You were proud to take on the role, especially since you were the last of your family currently living. You didn’t want the bloodline to die with you. “Love magic is strictly forbidden. It’s time for you to be punished!” you held out your hand as your ring began to glow a bright red. The ring broke into particles, reforming into a short sword that fell into the palm of your hand.

“You’re a few centuries too early to beat me, kid,” she smirked, flipping her chocolate hair over her shoulder. “I’m giving you one last chance to run away.”

You hummed, pointing the blade at her. “I’m going to enjoy destroying you. Witches like you are my least favorite. I get that you can’t find love on your own, but tricking people into loving you is just sad.”

She growled out in anger, her hands glowing a light blue as ice started to form around her. She thrust her hands out and pillars of ice shot towards you.

You dodged, running between them as they sprung up out of the floor. There were several narrow misses, the sharp ice ripping your clothes. “Jinyoung just bought me this shirt, you bitch!” you cried out, slicing the blade through the pillar in front of you. The steel started to glow red as it heated up with your magic, flames bursting from it like a firework.

“Fire magic?” The woman scowled, slamming her palms onto the ground. The floor quickly became covered in ice and the temperature of the room started to drop.

“Jokes on you,” you dodged another pillar, slicing the one behind you. “I may have fire magic, but I friggin’ love the cold!”

“Shut up!”

True, you did love the cold, but trying to dodge murderous ice pillars on the slippery frozen ground was not as fun as one might think.

You focused your power into your foot before slamming it down. The ice shattered and fire rose from the cracks, melting the ice almost instantly. “Your heart seems pretty cold, let me warm it up!” you rushed forward, leaping over the wall of ice she made to shield herself. You landed behind her, stabbing the blade into her side. She cried out in pain, feeling the burn of your magic. Holding up your middle and index fingers, you said, “Seal!”

Chains materialized, wrapping tight around her until she couldn’t move. Her power had been sealed away temporarily. With her magic cut, the ice started to break apart, falling loudly to the ground before shattering into magical dust.

“Now I just have to call the magic council,” you sighed, raising your hand to the ball that dangled from your right ear. Movement from the corner of your eye made you look up. It was the boy, slowly backing away from you with wide eyes. He looked absolutely terrified. “Hey, wait -”

As soon as you spoke up, he took off like a bat out of hell. You looked between the door and the witch and groaned, knowing you couldn’t leave her there. You’d just have to deal with the boy later. Tapping the ball, it disconnected from your ear as you channeled a small surge of power in order to activate it. The letter ‘C’ was drawn on the surface before the call connected. A hologram of Archmage Taldir appeared above the orb, looking as strict as ever. Man, you hated dealing with that guy.

You cleared your throat. “Witch hunter Y/N calling in for a transport for a criminal.”

“Crime?”

“Illegal use of love magic on a human being.”

“Have you erased this humans memory?”

You looked away, scratching your cheek. “It’s, uhh, in progress, sir.”

He stuck his nose in the air. “You better complete the job or you can forget about your witch hunter status!”

The hologram disappeared as he ended the call. You groaned in frustration. Why hadn’t you just lied and said yes? Because you knew you’d be in even more trouble if the council found out you had lied. You had to find that boy, no matter the cost.

A magical portal appeared and out walked several mages dressed in black robes. They grabbed the prisoner, sealing her mouth when she wouldn’t stop yelling profanity at them. They stepped through the portal and it disappeared.

You turned to leave when a shimmer caught your eye. You approached it curiously, kneeling down to inspect it. It was a ring engraved with the word ‘NCT’. It must belong to the boy!

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

For the next week, you kept your eyes open for the boy but had no luck. You had described him to the members of Got7, but ‘skinny boy with brown hair’ was too generic of a description.

In the meantime, you made yourself comfortable by sending memes to Jackson who was sitting across from you doing the same to you. You found the perfect gif and sent it, trying your best not to laugh.

He opened it, expression softening as a cute little bunny invaded his screen. Seconds later, it morphed into a demonic creature with sharp teeth, red beady eyes and its fur covered in blood. He screamed, throwing the phone into the air. It landed right by your feet.

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides. “You should have – aha – seen your FACE!”

He scowled at you, before looking away with a huff. “You’re such a jerk.”

“I know,” you grinned, leaning down to pick up his phone. When you did this, the ring, placed on a thin chain, slipped out from under your shirt.

Bambam noticed it and asked curiously, “Where’d you get that, noona?”

You held up the ring, inspecting it again. “I forgot about this. That boy dropped it.”

Jinyoung facepalmed. “You had a clue this entire time and you forgot?”

“Hehe,” you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly as you removed the necklace, handing it over to Jinyoung to inspect.

He resisted the strong urge to smack you upside the head. “He’s a member of NCT.”

Bambam started to laugh at the situation. “We could have found him a week ago, noona!”

“Oops?”

Jinyoung sent Jaebum a look and the leader knew what he wanted. He took the ring and motioned for you to follow. You walked beside him, glancing over curiously.

“Where are we going, JB?”

“NCT is a kpop group and they happen to be here for an interview.”

“Damn.”

“You really don’t like to make things easy, do you?” He chuckled, patting your head.

You pouted in response. “It’s not like I do it on purpose.”

“He’s most likely gonna be with the other members. NCT is a large group, so we’re going to have to be patient and -”

“Hey, you!” You called out to the boy as soon as you saw him, but as soon as his eyes met yours, he took off running. Jaebum tried to grab your arm but you were too quick, giving chase after the boy. His stamina was great, you had to admit. You had chased him through the building, out the back, and down four blocks before he finally ran into a dead-end alley.

You put your hand on the wall for support, sucking air into your burning lungs. He was barely breathing heavy at all. If you had been a normal person, you would have asked what sorcery this was.

When you regained a somewhat normal breathing pattern, you took a few steps forward. He matched them by stepping back until he was against the wall. His eyes were shimmering with fear and his voice shook when he spoke.

“What do you wa-ant from me?”

You frowned, keeping your distance. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“What are you?!”

“A witch.”

His eyes flashed through several emotions. As bad as he didn’t want to believe you, he couldn’t deny what he had witnessed.

You chewed on your lip for a moment before pulling the ring out of your pocket and holding it out. “This is yours, right? You dropped it the other day.”

“You chased me… all this way… to give my ring back?”

“Uh, not exactly,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “Look, I’ll be honest. Humans aren’t supposed to know that witches exist, it’s against our law. Unless you’re a helper to said witch, but that’s a different story. You’re scared, right? You keep having flashbacks of that day and you have trouble sleeping?”

He slowly nodded, still not fully trusting you.

“I can erase your memory of that night. You’ll forget everything you saw and live a normal life again!” you smiled encouragingly, stepping forward.

He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them. Fear still lingered, but you could see him trying to conquer it as he stepped towards you. “What if… what if I don’t want to forget?”

You tilted your head to the side. Well, this was new. Most humans begged for their memories to be taken. Knowing that witches and powerful magic existed wasn’t nearly as exciting as most people believed it to be. “If I allow that, I’ll get into serious trouble with the magic council.”

“What about a witch helper?”

“That’s a hard job, you know. Dangerous, too!”

He looked determined now as he forced himself to close the distance, lifting a shaking hand towards you. You plopped the ring into his palm, watching as he took another deep breath.

“Please… allow me to become your helper.”

You paused, thoughtfully, head tilted to the side. You could definitely use some more helpers. “Fine, but you’re filling out all the paperwork to send to the council!”

He smiled softly with a nod. “My name is Mark Lee.”

“Y/N,” you held your hand out, palm up, and little streaks of fire started to form words in the air, eventually spelling out ‘nice to meet you’.

The fire reflected in his eyes as he traced the words. “That’s terrifyingly cool.”

You chuckled at him.

His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shoot, I’m going to be late for the interview!” With a bow, he bid you farewell before taking off towards the studio just as Jaebum rounded the corner, the pair nearly colliding.

Jaebum watched him before turning to you with a raised brow. “What happened?”

“I’ve got a new helper, apparently,” you shrugged, nonchalantly.

“You were supposed to erase his memory, Y/N,” he sighed.

“He didn’t want me too.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“Yeah, well… something about him is special.”

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?”

“…”

“Did you at least brand him?”

“Uhh…”

“Tell him the rules of being a helper?”

“Shit.”

“Give him a family ring?”

“…”

He groaned, slamming his palm against his forehead. “How did you even function before you met us?!”

“There’s a reason that witches are permitted helpers, Jaebum!”

He only sighed, grabbing your hand as he took off towards the studio.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

[mrdemarlowe]

"The 333" Prologue: Betrayals

At the height of humanity’s ignorance, a war was waged.

The night sky morphed into a sea of darkness, as legions of Angels swarmed towards Earth’s land. The Angel’s invisible form only made visible by the trails of fire they left behind on route towards the highest populated areas on the planet.

This event would have multiple consequences for humankind.

To start, almost ninety percent of Earth’s land was destroyed and submerged into the oceans, leaving the remaining ten percent of land poisoned or too small to inhabit. In order to deal with this calamity, the survivors of humanity took to massive sea craft, hastily outfitted for long voyages, and began their long and difficult way through the world’s now dominant oceans. Where they would sail for close to twenty years before finally finding a home on land.

A second consequence of the “Rapture” (as some would take to calling it), was a mysterious mutation that occurred within living creatures and caused grotesque deformation and dampened physical ability within the afflicted. In time however, the survivors began to notice that the once prominent and disfiguring mutations were evolving to less visible, more enhancing mutations.

This would be the rough explanation for the creation of the Loma, a new race of humankind that had adapted with abilities.

The third and final consequence of our war had much to do with the first and second, this would make way for the subspecies of monster races to emerge from mutated manifestations of human consciousness. Of course, not many scientists were counted among the survivors of humanity, so even though not many knew the true origins of these races, this was the generally agreed upon explanation. All they knew, or needed to know, was the danger these races would bring for humans in the future.

The Carrier City, home to our race’s remaining people, would steadily drift closer to an unknown fate, and towards a place with divine implications, but demonic foundations.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the world from humankind, a different race emerged. This race had been created through the evil that man had poured into the land, through years and years of blood soaked battles.

Appearing in various corrupted forms, with demonic ambitions and enhanced abilities, the Demazo Race began it’s task to create a new continent in order to lure in any surviving humans for subjugation.

Thus, after almost twenty years at sea, humanity came across a massive land mass they had never seen before.

The scholars on board Carrier City boldly claimed this error on the navigation teams and captain of the vessel, Domillus Sysa. There were accusations of concealing land, or deliberate avoidance in order to sustain control over humanity.

In the end, a small faction of rebels would depart to make their own journeys on the new land, as Sysa’s group would settle in the northernmost territory of their new home. This territory was named Bernum, and was the first land to be discovered and claimed by humankind in years.

The continent humanity had landed on was named Lynn, after the late wife of Domillus, who had risked her own health in order to develop a treatment for some unknown disease that had plagued Carrier City early on in its voyage.

None disagreed, and a new kingdom arose from the ashes of a war not yet forgotten.

In the years to come, a new history began to unfold created from the actions of King Sysa and his bloodline, leading humanity down a new path of existence within the land of Lynn.

This is where we’ll start our story.

Bernum consisted of three distinct geographic features. It’s mystic forest of Demal Dora, which guarded the entrance from southern invaders, to it’s vast mountain-scape, which created a perfect foundation for Bernum’s eventual Kingdom with natural defenses, and its beaches down on the north side of Bernum’s border, which provided a great area for ports and fishing.

It’s within the first geographic feature, where a small campfire can be seen. Sitting around this fire, sheltered from a raging wind, were four men of varying age.

The first man Jacoby Simms, a grizzly man with silver hair and beard equivalent to the moon, who’s short stature warred constantly with his fiercely overbearing presence, sat idly stoking the flames. His hair and beard, both braided heavily with an assortment of gleaming metallic objects, glistened as it rubbed against his silver armor. His heart and mind were heavy this night, and no amount of drink or song was helping to appease his stress.

But it mattered little, his stress would not be transferred to his subordinates, he loosed a short soft sigh, and fixed himself upright.

“Anyone up for a Sysan Story?” He asked in his gruff but heavily accented voice. “I know one that’ll go great with a moonlit night like we have here.”

The smile on his face was clearly forced, but he had small hope that his crew had not noticed as he stood to begin.

“I’d rather you tell us what was said in Bella and Cyllym.”

This response came from Cassius Grau, a young man of twenty one years, who’s youth often went unnoticed under his wise and questioning eyes. But with his messy hair, and growing stubble, his questions and air of authority quickly vanished under the uncertainty of his power.

To his left sat the youngest of the four, a young man of nineteen, with short dirty blond hair, and a constant look of paranoia in his eyes named Elliott Alba.

Elliott scoffed quietly, before continuing his scan of the dark surrounding forest. “We aren’t high enough in the chain of command to understand these things.”

This was said almost in complete unison with the words of the last man who sat directly across from Cassius. Tristan Zuna, who had started with “You” instead of “We”, and was quite irritated at the mocking done by his pupil, finished his statement with a word of chastisement. His jet black pencil tip mustache and hair, which he kept in the slicked back style of old world Spaniards represented his refined and suave personality and his slick black armor complemented him to a T as well.

“I suggest you stop with the interruptions, and listen to your elders.” Tristan finished eyeing both pupils.

“Don’t be so rough on the boys,” Jacoby laughed, “they’re just nervous of war, and rightly so. But we can talk about that tomorrow when we report to the King. For now let’s recount the tale of Demarlowe Sysa, the fourth King of Lynn, and the wielder of the *Holy Roar*.”

“In those days, demons still ran the majority of Lynn’s southern half, and war between the races had been an ongoing struggle for the past Sysa King’s. But King Demarlowe was young, he knew that he had the strength his father had lacked in his old age. He knew he had the power to subdue the Demon race for good.”

Jacoby paused for effect, before continuing.

“It was on a night like this, with the moon in full view, that the King led his forces to retake Bristol and Fallpin. He discovered his Holy Roar, and with it he banished the Demon Prince to the deepest pit of hell.”

“I doubt things were that simple.” Cassius interjected. “The rest of the Kingdom’s territories were still united in it’s support of the King.”

“And they still are…” Tristan began to argue, but Jacoby stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“This world is ever changing, things come and go, and sometimes we humans crave things we can no longer have, or will never be able to have. This can make us do evil things.” Jacoby looked the boys each in the eyes. “If war becomes an outcome that we are to expect, it is our own fault as a race for our desires and flaws. We just need to trust in those who have a higher sense of divine purpose.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Cassius replied, a sinister smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “We should trust in someone with a higher purpose than just taxes, and technology. We need power and knowledge, with a system designed to cater to those who’ve obtained both. We need a new way.”

“Don’t you ever speak such treasonous words in our prese…” Tristan began to yell, but was cut short by Elliott’s calm whisper.

“Null.”

With this, the two older men found themselves unable to use their Lomatic abilities, and as the cold chill of fear rose deep in their chests they turned to see Cassius Grau rise from his spot with the sinister smile fully visible on his face.

“Lunaius et Espanza” he began in a strange foreign language, before switching back. “Kill each other, make it look like an enemy ambush, and die knowing you’re both failures as teachers. Your own students overpowered you.”

With an evil bout of laughter, the boys watched as their former mentors ripped each other apart while the reflections of the campfire danced inside pools of blood.

The first betrayal was finished.

The Next Day:

As the midday sun reached its place above Bernum’s cityscape, two tattered and frantic riders were seen approaching the Kingdom’s gates. Standing Guard today was Rose Petallis and Sylvia Lennox, two of the most promising Royal Guard recruits in their generation.

Rose, a sweet and logical girl, almost twenty years in age, with warm auburn hair and soft amber eyes, was the first to notice Bernum’s crest on the riders cloaks. This was also when she realized the identity of the men, as Cassius Grau and Elliott Alba reached the entrance.

Sylvia, who was much more aggressive in nature, brushed back her golden blonde hair from her light green eyes and shouted to the men below.

“Identify yourselves or submit to apprehension and interrogation.” She finished, still eyeing them suspiciously.

The pair waited a couple moments for any response before calling down again. This time, the question came from Rose.

“Cassius? Elliott? Where are Sir Jacoby and Tristan?” She asked each question in fast succession, worry clear in her voice. “What’s going on guys?”

“Stop talking!” Sylvia scolded, “Until we’ve confirmed their identity, we mustn’t reveal any important information.”

With seemingly no words coming from below, the two girls decided to head down for a closer look. When they reached the bottom they noticed something off about the two men.

They were bloody, with pieces of clothing ripped off in various places. The frantic energy had faded, and the two men now lay slumped over on their mounts. The scene looked slightly staged but the girls immediately recognized their comrades outside the gate.

“That’s the boys,” Sylvia observed, turning to lift the gate. “ Something must have happened down in Demal Dora. We must inform the King.”

As she finished lifting the gates, Sylvia noticed a brief glimmer of metal before a slice appeared across her jaw and cutting down the length of her chest. As she fell to the ground, life fading from her eyes, the form of Elliott Alba appeared in front of her.

“You really were so beautiful…” He sighed softly. “Such a shame.”

Then he plunged his sword deep into her gut, pulled it out and walked away, as Cassius finished off a struggling Rose with a swift snap of the neck.

Sylvia’s eyes filled with darkness as her vision faded, the last image seen replaying in her head. Cassius and Elliott, with putrid smiles on their faces, walking towards the castle. Their second betrayal complete.

Meanwhile, at the castle:

In the highest observation tower, a frightened and confused Darla Brand has just witnessed the betrayal of her comrades at the gate.

Her dark brown hair, usually worn down, had been tied back to prevent obstructing her view of the seasonal migration of the local birds, but what she had seen by the gates was a simple mistake of curiosity.

The fear and confusion changed to anger and a determination to inform her guardsmen of the incoming danger, but as she reached for the door handle she found it already turning. Once it opened, she was relieved to see her fiancé, Prince Damian Sysa, who had just arrived to surprise her with lunch.

“Cassius and Elliott are back,” she started, “but something is wrong, they attacked Sylvia and Rose. I just saw the entire thing from the observation scope, and they’re on their way here. I think something is going on.”

As she finished, she noticed the doubt in her betrothed ones eyes flicker slowly before switching over to trust when he noticed her gaze. She gave him a moment to grasp the situation before prompting him to action.

“I need you to trust me, go inform your father.” She begged. “I need to go and help the girls at the gate, but when you escape with the King, come and meet me there.”

With this, she raced off leaving Prince Damian to warn his father of the coming attack.

In a quick moment of thinking, Damian decided to utilize his ability.

A quietness filled the room as his eyes closed to this world into another.

The Luullo Void was a dimension built entirely on silence. Only those born with Luullo type abilities can access the void, but even among them few can freely roam inside it’s realm with consciousness.

Prince Damian searched quickly for any aura inside the void, knowing only one person who could help at a time like this. But to no avail, Damian could only reach out in hope.

Finally, after a few seconds, Damian reached the consciousness of his mentor, the only other man to have made conscious contact inside the void. Adamantis Black, his father’s right hand and the commander of Bernum’s Royal Guard.

In the throne room, located on the opposite side of the Castle:

Adamantis Black, a man of few words with dark black hair and a trimmed and kept beard to match stands across from King Darius Sysa, Bernum’s current ruler.

As he finished his report, he feels a pinprick of anxiety coming from the Luullo Void. Without hesitation he establishes connection, and as a first instinct scolds his pupil.

“If you can’t free your mind of anxiety, everyone will feel your presence here my young student.” He chastised lovingly. “We’ve discussed this issue before.”

He felt a mischievous smirk form on his face before remembering his current location. The king eyed him, clearing questioning the smirk.

“Your son has entered the void,” he answered without orders. “he is getting stronger, but as of yet has much to lear…”

He was cut off by a desperate Prince Damian.

“My Father… danger. Cass and El… attack. Protect the King.” His last sentence was short enough to come in clear and was the only one to catch Adamantis off guard.

Without hesitation the King’s commander charged for the door to secure the room, but was too late.

The door handle turned, and in walked a young man with jet black hair and a look of pure delight clear across his face.

“Hello father.” He addressed Adamantis, before spotting the King. With a quick bow he finished, “Your Highness.”

“What’s wrong Sebastian,” Adamantis asked, noticing that something wasn’t quite right with his son. “Do you know what’s going on with Cass and Elliott?”

“Indeed I do father,” Sebastian replied coldly. “In fact, I told them to do it. I made all of this fun happen today.”

At a point of almost hysterical laughter, Sebastian slowly begins to calm down as King Darius rises from his throne.

“Explain yourself now boy, or so help me, I’ll make you slap yourself into a coma.” The King started, an air of intense anger beginning to permeate from his every word.

“Empty threats at this point my King,” Sebastian turned his gaze more intently displaying his pleasure at his achievements. “Everything is as I’ve planned. The envoy from Cyllym to Bella claiming war, the spies in our capitol, even the assassinations in Aurora that closed the trade agreements with Bernum.”

Without another word needed, The King began to incite his ability the King’s Command, which allowed him to speak orders into fruition, however it would not activate, much to the King’s surprise and dismay.

As both Adamantis and King Sysa stared in horror, the walls began to fade away to a dark pitch black nothingness. Leaving behind only, the three men.

“Welcome to my Noir.” Sebastian spoke smoothly, as two more figures emerged behind him. “Glad you boys made it in time to enjoy the fun.”

As the figures began to materialize, the King noticed the faces of both Cassius Grau and Elliott Alba, grinning as if they had just spent the night with a commune of women. Each covered in blood without a hint of injury the King could discern.

“I take it you boys are going along with this then?” He asked, already knowing the answer. A sadness had already began to sit in his eyes and words carried heaviness at the thought of this treachery. “Why?”

“Simple Old man, it’s time for a new line of Kings.” Sebastian, who had now made his way closer to his father, began slowly. “Let’s not waste any more of it.”

Before he could react, Adamantis Black found himself deep within the Luullo Void once more. Yet this time felt different, almost permanent in a way. He saw far more clearly within the void than he had ever seen before. And in his final moments of life, he discovered the experience of being reborn into another.

As Sebastian Black’s blade finished it’s downward slice, Adamantis Black took his last breath, and his body hit the ground with a heavy thud.

The King could do nothing but kneel at his best friends side and watch as life faded from his corpse. An anger again beginning to form deep within his gut. With no hesitation, he began to curse Sebastian Black.

“You are evil incarnate, you shape yourself in ways to mix with innocence but you are corruption to your core. You will hurt those closest to you with no remorse, and trade power for bits of your soul. Yet your evil will be your undoing. It will consume you and erase your existence forever.”

As the King finished his fierce last command all three boys lunged forward. Each one plunging their swords deep into the King’s chest. And watched as his body landed uncomfortably on the ground.

“It’s a new Era boys, let’s make sure it remembers who we are.” Sebastian mutters proudly.

The blackness faded away leaving no trace of the incident that had just occurred, just a cruel smiling Sebastian sitting on the King’s throne. With his third and final betrayal finished, he commenced with his last objective.

“Inform the council of elders knows of the Prince’s treason, and make sure you capture them before they escape.”

With Sebastian’s orders, the two men disappeared to capture the prince, as Sebastian peered happily through his new throne room’s window.

A few moments earlier:

Prince Damian had felt the disconnection from his mentor before anything else, and once he had realized what that meant, began making his way towards the throne room. However he was stopped by a reestablished connection to Adamantis Black who spoke briefly through the Void.

“I am dead, your father is surrounded, nothing you can do, run, take Darla and the baby, live.”

As tears filled his eyes, Damian understood his mentors words, and he raced to find Darla and escape the castle grounds. He would never return to his home territory, and he rode away from it’s borders with tears in his eyes and hatred in his heart. He turned to give one last glance to his old life, then turned back and headed towards his new one.

In the years that followed, Damian and Darla would settle cautiously within the territory of Alorica where they would have their daughter Donna, and would stay hidden for years until sickness took hold of Darla and eventually, Prince Damian as well.

[c-atm]

“So,” Heartberry started, “anyone has an idea of how to take this thing down cause I’m not crazy about being resprayed.” she leaned back with her legs crossed, sitting on Mister’s lap.

“We can’t ambush it, the thing always on guard, despite having one eye, ” Mister commented as he slumped in their recliner a little, “resilient thing too, just bounce everything off of that plum-colored skin of theirs.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Never faced anything so docile but, oh so annoying.” Witchy groaned, throwing her hands up in agitation, before folding her arms over her breast, pouting with puffed blush crossed cheeks and steady brows.  

The subject, how to take care of a demon who, despite being non-violent, leaves its victims comatose and foul-smelling.

So very foul-smelling.

They didn't know what it wanted. What's its purpose was, or if it even had one? Furthermore, it wouldn't tell them what it wanted...That or it couldn't. 

There wasn't a mouth on its balloon-like, limbless single-eyed body, an eye that changes colors and showed a whole lot of expression based on its emotions.

It should have been an easy kill, but it did have a high payout for its defeat, for a good reason too.

It has escaped the six of them three times so far. Leaving them all unconscious and reeking. Not even Amy was a fan of the smell. So much so that she chose to abandon the hunt.

Three nights of undertaking this task. 

Three nights of failing the task.

Three nights of smelling like literal defeat. 

Defeat took a ninety-minute bath and shower to scrub off and put everyone on edge, even after a night of sleep.

 None more than the resident witch. 

She woke with her eyes glowed with prideful anger, even as Dapper pampered her a bit, massaging her shoulders and fixing his lady her favorite breakfast, which she did appreciate but was too in her pride to convey it. Still, for the sake of the morning, he let it be.

The afternoon though, things hit their boiling point when they began to plan for their next attempt.

"I think I might have an answer," Dapper came in with a book in his hand. He laid it open to a page with the despicable eggplant looking demon. "Our target defense is related to its focus. The more alert it is, the more invulnerable it is, and believe it or not, it's a bit of a punk...so it's always on alert. Though, you can't really blame it. It's a rare demon and a big payday."

"Ok, so how do we take care of it," Witchy asked with a glare. 

"We have to distract it," Dapper announced with a smirk. "And what is its weakness, you ask." with a smirk, he pointed at a simple two-line description, which the three read.

"AHHH HAHAHA!" Mister threw his head back. "Ohh, well girls, looks like this is a job for you two."

Heartberry shook her head, "I knew it was looking at me strangely...Stop laughing." Her nostrils flared. "So...That's its weakness, so how do we exploit it."

"Photoshoot? Modeling? Music video!?" Mister chuckled, getting a headlock from his Connie.

"You know what? Fine." Witchy said coolly, getting off the couch and taking HB's hand and leading her out the room. "Going to pick up Amy, and we'll see you two in a couple of hours at that demon's base."

"My lady?"

He was answered with a slam of the front door, leaving the 'brothers' looking worried.

Two hours later, Dapper and Mister were waiting in the now abandoned apartment complex, waiting for their team.

"So what'd you think they came up with?" Mister asked, leaning back on a wall, eyes closed and hand in his pockets.

Dapper shrugged, looking a bit crushed." My lady is so damn prideful. Just hope she's not going to do something..Foolish for a win."

"She wouldn't be a 'Connie' if she took it on the chin, definitely if she feels she could win."

"Sis, stubborn as well, hmm?"

"Her most alluring trait." Mister smirked, opening his eyes and turning his head left, "speaking of alluring...Stars and Diamonds." He swooned.

Dapper looked over the same direction as Mister and arched an eye. 

Heartberry, Amethyst, and the duo of Sarah and Biddy strutting towards them.

Dressed in flashy, flirty idol outfits.

Mister whistled as they walked up.

"Keep your eyes and tongue in your head, Mister," Heartberry teased as Mister playfully wrapped her loose plaid tie over his finger. "Schoolgirl style?" 

"Yup, figured since it has a thing for the female form, we decided we'd appease its base emotions."

"I see devious." Mister flirted, "So..are you naughty or nice?" 

"I'll show you later alone." She grinned, giving him a peck.

"Ummm-"

"Yes...Always." The purple demoness answered Sarah's and Biddy's question before they could ask.

"Quite the plan you came up with, ladies," Dapper smirked.

"It was actually trailblazer's suggestion." Sarah started." Alicia would have joined, but she was needed at the church."

"How did you guys get roped into this?" The demon Steven questioned.

"I was promised a piece of the reward and amusement." Biddy announced, plainly, " so far, I am amused."

"Same." Sarah nodded affirmatively.

"Dapper." HB called, getting the demon's attention, "around the corner." 

Dapper didn't need any more than that as she morphed into a shadow, rushing to his lady's side.

He found her standing behind the corner, a cloak over her.

"My lady?"

Witchy leaped, red-face as Dapper formed himself from the darkness. "The hell, Steven. Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Sorry." The half-demon offered, looking at his lady, " So? What are you doing over here?"

"Attempting to preserve my pride." She mumbled, "this is so stupid." She rubbed her temples with a groan before slamming her first to the wall. 

"I really don't get why you are so angry, My lady?"

"I don't like to lose."

"I know." He chuckled

"This demon beat me four times."

"Four? We only confronted it three times."

"I'm not talking just in battle!" She growled." I mean …" Witchy clenched her fist. " You know what, trash the plan."

 "This was your idea!" Shocks evident in Dapper's voice.

"I'm retracting it then!" 

"Why? It's a good plan!"

"Why? I'm not some...Cosplaying, dallying, cutesy, pop-idol, centerfold!!" The fiery witch roared upwards, 

"I'm a demon hunter! A witch! A warrior! A CONNIE MAHESWARAN!!" She continued, a flare of outrage literally coming from her mouth.

"Spitting fire, My lady."

He received a smoke conjuring snort as a response before she turned her back to him, her cheeky face pout returning, even as he interlaced his fingers around her stomach and pulled her to his chest, though it slipped a bit when she felt the rumble of his best from him chuckle on her back.

"Don't you think you're a bit too proud?"

"No! not at all!" She argued. "This thing has made a mockery of us. I mean, come on. Look what we've been subjected to." She groaned, leaning back into him. "Three nights of foul-smelling defeats from this one-eyed demon eggplant that won the genetic lottery in terms of defense and attentiveness, whose weakness is the 'allure of the fairer sex.'  How am I supposed to feel knowing that this was the thing that beat me...Beat us."

"It hasn't beaten us," Dapper looked at his flame. "We're still here, ready to do what we do best."

"But what we do best won't work, as long as it's on guard, we can't kill it, and all we have to do is get sprayed and humiliated again." Witchy retorted, "even against the likes of Stevonnie and Steven squared. It just repels everything before blowing us away in a noxious fume." The witch sighed in chagrin." And to cater to its taste...A demon's taste...How disgraceful."

"That's kind of offensive, Connie," Dapper stated, slightly crossed. "I'm half-demon, you know."

The witch's face flushed, shamed at her callousness. "Sorry, my dapper devil. I didn't mean it like that." She gave him a quick peck. "It's just this whole 'honeypot' plan. It's humiliating."

Sometimes it's a requirement." Dapper joked yet spoke truthfully, "you've been at this job long enough to know that, and you used you womanly wiles before, so why is this so different?"

"Because it might not work, and I don't want to look bad in front of you again, "  Witchy admitted looking down. "Especially against this do nothing demon, who can't attack more than letting out a nauseating gas."

Dapper kissed her crown gently, "My beautiful, prideful flame. You really let this plant sink its roots into you." Dapper laughed a bit before kissing her temple. 

"How are you laughing? How can you find even the most smidge of humor out of this situation?"

"The fact that this plant isn't threatening the populace helps." The demon admitted, "Annoying them to the point of abandoning their home for the time, but at least they're unharmed."

"True, it's more menace than monster, but that makes it all the more shameful." The witch complained, "we've battled true nightmares and won without breaking a sweat, and yet the thing that gave us trouble can't even speak! It's frustrating!"

"Irony at its finest." Dapper jest. 

"I want to win." Witchy declared. " I want to prevail over this creature; I have to..."determination in her voice.

"Well, then. We should join the others. We're holding the op-"

Dapper words fell short as Witchy's lips met his in an appreciative kiss. He was only slightly shocked for a moment before reciprocating. It all lasted a tongue-twisting, cheek caressing, hip holding, lip popping seven seconds before breaking off with a gentle -Chu-.

Dapper, a bit dizzy, turned upwards and breathed out a small heart-shaped fume. "Talk about your hot kisses."

"Pfft!" Witchy snorted before laughing into his chest. Holding him by the shoulder blades as he did. "Thank you," She whispered, adoring.

"For what?"

"Letting me vent, without judgment." She reached up, kissing his left cheek, "For making my favorite breakfast and massaging my shoulders." She kissed his right, "for dealing with my attitude in stride.

"It's no problem, My lady." He soothed, "I know your irritation comes from your convictions, your need never to let your people down." He kissed her forehead, "one of your most attractive qualities."

"Still."

"Still nothing. You are fine, not like you did anything insulting." He grinned, "You were just a sulky little witch."

"And impulsive."  She sighed, " whatever. It is what it is." Witchy surrendered as she walked out of his grasp, peeling off her cloak and making Dapper jaw drop.

She was wearing a dark blue collared crop top with purple plaid trim around the hem and collared with a loose-fitting blue and purple stripe tie, a pair of high thighs navy suspender shorts, some dark purple knee-highs, and black collared booties. Every curve that she hid was on full display, and Dapper was burning the visage in his mind forever.

Reaching to her back left pocket, she pulled out a hair clip shaped like one of Dapper's broaches as well as a tube lip gloss.

"Mind helping me?" She tossed him the tube before clipping her hair in a left side ponytail. Dapper nodded before taking Witchy chin in his left hand and slowly stroked the gloss across pressed the lips, giving them a shimmer. "Hmm, might have given you too much."

Before the witch could complain, her partner gave her a tingling, suckling upon the brims of her mouth.

It was sweet, swift, and soothing, precisely what his lady needed as he felt her relax under his kiss.

"Better?" He asked, reapplying the gloss again, getting a breath of calmness and appreciation.

"Yeah." She felt herself grinning, " you could have asked for a kiss, though."

"True, but kissing 'a idol' off guard was too good to pass." He gave her a playful and wolfish grin, making her blush and push him away.

"Gods no. I'm no idol."

"You're my idol." He whispered, pressing his head to hers.

Witchy pursed her mouth, pouting a bit." Well. I guess that's fine…" she gave him a quick peck. "but only yours."

"Does that mean there is a chance I'd get to see you in this outfit again?"

 "I'm more than likely going to end up burning this attire once we are done." She shrugged, teasing before backing away, turning, and walking towards the corner. "Come on, I'm sure the others are impatient and probably starting to head up to the roof."

"Of course," Dapper said, staring at his lady's confident stride before following behind her; idolizing the prideful fiery witch and all her perfect imperfection, as he always did.

[emotionalsupportmanteau]

Anon, here is my response to your prompt. Sorry, I got a bit carried away.

Prompt: Snake! Crowley sleeping in cozy corners around bookshop and Zira not noticing until customers start screaming.

 After the Apocaneverhappened, the oldest of friends found themselves at the Ritz as was their unabashedly hedonistic wont, sat on the same side (oh the symbolism!), toasted “To the World” with the finest of champagne and then went home. Separately. I know. Sorry to disappoint you. Aziraphale muttered something about “inventory that mustn’t wait” and Crowley mumbled something about having a hot date with a cold bed and then blushing redder than his hair. The angel’s response was to titter and then utter an equally ridiculous “Good Lord.” Good lord, indeed. Wherever She was, She was certainly rolling her many celestial eyes.

 Later that night, an angel picked up books and put them back on the same shelf without even looking at the titles or admiring the beautiful binding and gilt lettering. The books were miffed and ruffled their pages at him but Aziraphale was distracted. You see, the whole thing had been rather anticlimactic as it were. And not just the part about the world not ending. He had thought—he was certain—something was going to happen. With Crowley.

But the dear boy seemed to be ignoring all Aziraphale’s quite overt hints! His lingering gaze should have been the tip off. Wiggling closer at the table so their sleeves touched. Sitting in the car outside his bookshop, sighing pointedly, waiting for something, for anything to happen. The Bentley was silent for once. It was up to them now. Our two conquering heroes had Too Much to Say and So They Said Nothing. Except “See you tomorrow, Angel.” Then Crowley peeled off, treating the streets of London like a video game. Tomorrow. There would be a tomorrow. That was something.

 Crowley had some thinking to do and a fair amount of self-chastising, but first he really needed a long nap. And he slept better in snake form. He was profoundly tired. It was all over and yet it was just beginning. The Alpha and the Omega and all that. Crowley took a breath and transformed into his reptilian self. It always seemed to feel better morphing from his human body to snake form than the other way around. The fancy black suit vanished, as did the sunglasses, and in an instant a handsome black snake wriggled happily across the smooth cool floor. Ahh, that’sss better.

But it wasn’t better. Crowley curled up in his Eden green linen sheets, closed his golden eyes but sleep eluded the poor demon. His creature comforts surrounded him: whiskey, whiskey filled chocolates, chocolate flavored whiskey, his secret plush angel, heat lamp on high, David Bowie’s greatest hits playing on his mint 1970’s turntable, but something important was missing. After an hour of shifting and slithering irritably in his soft, many pillowed nest he realized what was missing

Assiraphale.

He needed his angel. Can you blame him? He thought he was going to lose him three times and Three is a Very Significant Number: when the bookshop burned and Crowley couldn’t find him, when Satan showed up and almost permanently crashed Earth’s Party, and when they weren’t sure if swapping bodies would save them. He’s still a bit worried that he might still lose Aziraphale. Upstairs and Downstairs might be looking for retribution because an angel and a demon and a small boy spoiled their lovely war. Sandalphon, Gabriel, and Beelzebub were incensed. Aziraphale. He needed to see his angel. Right now. He would know what to do and what to say. His Azira was the only creature he had ever met who ever offered him true understanding and real comfort.

 An exhausted Crowley arrived at Aziraphale’s front door. He swayed in indecision. Should he knock or ring the ornate lion shaped bell? He didn’t want to be a bother. He was so tired. And it had taken an effort to change back to his human shape. He just wanted a nap. Crowley pointed his finger at the keyhole and mimed turning a key. The door opened slowly. Crowley and Aziraphale, sometime around 1942 had agreed that in case of an emergency, they could miracle each other’s doors open even if the other wasn’t there. Because really, who has time for keys these days?

Crowley felt dizzy. Where was Aziraphale? Oh well, he’d just sit down on his nice squashy brocade sofa and wait for him. There was a lovely fire crackling in the fireplace. Crowley stretched his weary, old bones and then changed into a snake without a second thought. Ahh, that’ss it. Sssweeet relief.

 Meanwhile, Aziraphale had removed his little gold glasses, put them in their case, and laid his curly sugar sand blond head down on a nice thick volume on Audubon. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment. Surely, he had earned it after all they had done. Saving the world was hard work. He yawned loudly. As an ethereal entity, he simply didn’t get tired but found he didn’t have the energy to remain upright. A few minutes later, Aziraphale was sound asleep. He slept through Crowley’s quiet break in, slept all the way until morning. The Angel had Gone Native!

 The next morning dawned just like any other. Million of ungrateful Londoners had no idea how close they had come to extinction. Aziraphale woke rather well rested and quite refreshed, miracle the wrinkles off his suit and readied himself to get some freshly baked croissants from his favorite French patisserie. Chef Henri always set aside the choicest breads and pastries for his best customer.  So intent on his breakfast treat, Aziraphale didn’t see the snake curled around the ancient cash register.

Crowley was blissed out. Every spot he found to snooze in was comfy and smelled like his angel: a heady mix of Madagascan Bourbon Vanilla and a few centuries worth of rare book dust. It shouldn’t be the wonderful perfume it was, but it was to the sensitive and let’s face it, besotted snake. He grinned his snake grin (like a human smile, just more fangy and with a slightly indecent hint of forked tongue) and slithered off to nap on top of the Oscar Wilde first editions. Just friendsss, he hissed to himself, not bloody likely, Assiraphale, but supreme exhaustion overcame his righteous indignation and jealousy and he found his eyes closing against his will. He was just going to rest for a little while before he found Aziraphale and gave him…. gave him something.

 Aziraphale was pouring himself a perfect cup of Lady Grey tea to go with his generously buttered and raspberry jam laden croissant when he heard something he had never heard in his or any other bookshop: screaming. Excited screaming he had been forced to endure during the Blessed Harry Potter Years, but this was different. These were fearful screams. Human screams. Aziraphale raced to the front of his shop, worried that someone from Upstairs or Downstairs might be torturing one of his customers. For news of Aziraphale and Crowley, he was certain. They’ve come for us. We will never be free to live together! What? That’s not what I meant. I meant free to live in peace but not celestial harmony until the end of our days.

 There were three humans in the front of the bookshop, and they were indeed screaming. But there weren’t any annoying supernatural emissaries to be seen. An old man in a tattered raincoat was yelling “Snake! Snake! Snake!” and brandishing his umbrella before him. A uni student with half a shaved head and tattooed forearms didn’t look frightened at all, just bemused and continued to browse the occult section. A teenager with headphones slung around their neck, in a striped red and white jumper that was very Where’s Waldo?  stabbed their finger at Aziraphale’s bookcase of treasured gay literature and there He was. Crowley. Lounging atop Oscar’s Collected Works. Cheeky bugger. He would know that snake anywhere. What in heaven’s name was he doing here? And why was he in snake form?

“No need for alarm,” Aziraphale reassured the small group. “That creature is indeed a snake and he is my pet. My store mascot, if you will.”

Crowley opened his eyes and glared at Aziraphale as if to say Really? Really, Aziraphale?

“He won’t hurt you. He’s tame.” Crowley hissed and stuck out his forked tongue.

The old man and teenage Waldo jumped. The uni student said “Wicked.” Crowley bobbed his head as if to say Got it in one.

What do you want me to do? Aziraphale asked his serpent friend desperately with his wide Delft blue eyes.

You figure it out, Angel, Crowley’s amber eyes said and slithered over to Aziraphale, crawled up the shocked angel’s pleasingly plump side and wrapped around his arm. He was always much bolder in snake form. Ssso warm. Somehow I always knew you would be. Warm like ssstarss are warm. Crowley was afraid the angel could hear his thoughts. They were the ones screaming now. In ecstasy. Oh go-Sa- somebody. Help me here.

“I’m going to call Animal Control. You shouldn’t have a snake in here. Its revolting is what it is. That thing belongs in the zoo,” the old man bellowed at Aziraphale.

Crowley tightened his hold on the angel’s arm in fear and Aziraphale stroked his head scales gently. He had never touched Crowley in his snake form before. He felt cool and smooth beneath his trembling fingers.

“I assure you this is all perfectly legal, sir,” Aziraphale said through gritted teeth. “I will completely understand if you no longer want to frequent my bookshop. In fact, it is best for all concerned if you leave immediately. Since my snake is so distasteful to you. Try the Waterstones down the street.” The old man’s jaw dropped, and he sagged, as if all the fight has left him. Aziraphale took hold of his arm politely but firmly and steered him out the front door, closing and locking it for good measure.  

Waldo inched closer to Aziraphale. “If he’s your pet, what’s his name?”

“His name…hmm” Aziraphale leaned close to Crowley’s head and whispered “Puer Carissime,”in Latin, their old language though Love is the oldest language of all. As our two man shaped creatures were finally learning. It had only taken 6,000 years.

Crowley shivered in delight, then slithered up and around his neck, nuzzling Aziraphale’s left shoulder. Aziraphale felt a small bonfire happening in his body and cleared his throat several times before returning his attention to the inquisitive customer. “You may call him Genesis.” You see, Aziraphale had always been just enough a bastard and Crowley loved him for it.

“Genesis? Like the Phil Collins band? Me mum loves his music. I prefer The Arctic Monkeys myself,” said Waldo.

“Yes, my dear. The Phil Collin’s band.”  Crowley snorted which sounded like an adorable little sneeze. Aziraphale hadn’t the faintest idea who Phil Collins or The Arctic Monkeys were.  Bebop, most likely. Crowley would know.

“Wicked,” helpfully added the uni student and started humming the hit song “D is for Dangerous” under their breath. Aziraphale privately had the rather uncharitable thought that the young person must be smoking the devil’s lettuce. Crowley thought the same thing only he followed it up with the entertaining idea of what Aziraphale would be like if he smoked grass. He would just have to tempt him into it! Yes, groovy idea!  Capitol, as his angel would say.

Crowley nipped the angel’s ear gently and Aziraphale turned red as rhubarb pie. “My dearest boy!” he exclaimed. Crowley flicked out his tongue, licked his round cheek and proceeded to move downward and coil himself around Aziraphale like a belt. This is getting a bit inappropriate, he thought. The humans must exeunt. Before we lose all sense of propriety. He quaked in pleasure at that delicious idea.

“Alright then, Cro-Genesis is tired, and I have calls to make to book buyers so I will have to ask you both to leave.”

“Wicked,” said the uni student a bit gloomily and dropped the biography of Aleister Crowley they were holding.

“I wanted to pet him,” sulked Waldo, but they put their head phones back on and headed for the door.

“Maybe next time, dear. If Genesis gives his consent, that is.” Crowley shakes in silent laughter.

“How long is he staying?” Waldo asked, strangely voicing the exact question that the angel had been wondering about since he saw his favorite wily serpent in his bookcase that morning, looking as if he belonged nowhere else.

“That rather depends on him.” Crowley remained still. “I should like him to stay forever,” the angel said it all in one brave whoosh. Crowley loosened his hold on Aziraphale’s waist, slinked up to his chest, nudged aside his immaculate white shirt and pressed his snoot to his rapidly beating heart.

“It looks like he really likes you,” remarked Waldo with a smile. “Aw, I want a pet now.”

“Wicked,” the occult enthusiast agrees.

“Farewell, young folk. Come back another time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fell. I’m Theodore H. Richards. I’ll be back. I am writing my doctoral thesis on the occult history of England throughout the ages and I have some questions to ask you, if you don’t mind,” the uni student said shyly.

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. “Of course. What an interesting topic, Theodore. I am here to help,” he said brightly. Crowley thought, hmm, now here’ss an interessting human…Aziraphale won’t mind if we help them get top marks.

“Bye, Mr. Fell. My name’s Taryn. Rhymes with Karen. I can’t wait to tell me mum about Genesis. She’s in love with Phil Collins. It’s gross. He’s so old.”

Azirophale laughed at this and saw both his customers out the door.

 It was quiet. So quiet. It was just the two of them. After all this time. And when was someone going to say something? Do something? Aziraphale started to sweat and felt his heart about to punch through his delicate chest and run off if Crowley didn’t make a move. Then, “Close your eyess, Angel,” Crowley hissed.

Azirophale obeyed at once. He didn’t think it would be hard to take orders from Crowley.

Crowley quickly transformed back into his human shape.

“Open your eyes, Angel,” he said quietly.

Aziraphale opened his eyes and gazed at Crowley with more love than any angel had ever been able to feel. His beautiful Crowley. In a simple black suit that shimmered, reminding him of his snake form. No sunglasses. His gorgeous, expressive eyes of the oldest, richest yellow clay glistened with tears.

“Darling,” Aziraphale threw his arms around his beloved demon, embracing him with everything that he had.

“Did you mean it, Zira? Can I stay forever?” Crowley’s voice shook as he pulled him closer.

“Forever, my love.” Aziraphale cradled Crowley’s face in both hands, learning his friend in a completely new and wonderful way.

“L-love? You love me?” Crowley stuttered.

“I love you. I love you so much, my dearest boy. Puer carissime.” Azirophale stroked Crowley’s soft pomegranate hair.

“Angel, “Crowley kissed the crown of his dear head. “I love you, Angel. Have done since Eden.”

Aziraphale melted. “Since Eden.”

“We’ll make our own garden, Zira.” Crowley ran his arms up and down Aziraphale’s arms, setting off little sparks.

“And you will yell at the plants.”

“And I will yell at the plants,” Crowley laughed. “Zira?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been waiting to try something for 6,000 years,” he growled.

“That long, my dear? I wonder what it is?”

“Bastard,” Crowley looked at Aziraphale’s rosebud mouth and bit his lip.

“Try it, Crowley. I promise I will like whatever it is,” he said coyly.

“As much as profiteroles?” Crowley said salaciously and licked his lips.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I rather like profiteroles. Let’s try it and find out.” Crowley surged against Aziraphale, his cock hot and hard against the angel’s soft stomach. Aziraphale gasped.

“You are quite naughty, you know, my love.”

“Demon,” he pointed to himself.

“I wouldn’t want you any other way. Though I don’t mind you in snake form. It felt quite nice having you- “

“Angel. Less. Talking.” They closed their eyes in unison. Crowley took a deep breath and pressed his lips once against Aziraphale’s. His lips so soft and tasting of sugar and salt. They rested their warm, damp foreheads against each other, their rabbit fast breathing the only sound in the shop.

“More, please,” Aziraphale drew close and said against Crowley’s lips so it tickled a little.

“Greedy,” Crowley giggled.

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

“That’s true. Since you asked so nicely.” Crowley slung his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and kissed him properly this time. Aziraphale’s mouth opened like a flower to admit Crowley’s tongue, stroking his until every cell in his body filled with sunlight.

“Crowley, my dearest boy,” Aziraphale murmured between deep kisses that nourished the parched earth inside him. “I am yours. Everything I was. Everything I am. Everything I will be.”

“Zira,” Crowley groaned into his nectar sweet mouth. “As I am yours. Everything I was. Everything I am. Everything I will be,” he repeated like a mantra. His breathing hummingbird quick. “Zira, angel. I want- I want to touch you. Every part of you. I want to be entwined with you. So I don’t know where you end, and I begin.  As if we were the only two in the world.”

“We are, Crowley. This is Our World now. We create it. And we begin and end together.”

“Yes, my love,” Aziraphale kissed him like he was saying an oath, and perhaps he was. He took Crowley’s lovely, slender hands and pulled him in the direction of the bedroom where he resisted the urge to miracle something better than his 19th century iron sleigh bed with threadbare lace edged sheets. Crowley didn’t want perfection. He just wanted him.

“Let’s go to our garden, darling. Together, I do think we could help it grow.” Crowley bowed his head like it was a willow tree heavy with sudden, life giving rain, kissed Aziraphale’s hand and followed him through the unassuming wooden door with the old-fashioned glass knob and into eternity.

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes."

V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way, and forevermore, that's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. Also for introducing Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @lessy86 , @diabeticsugarush , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

She heard a knock on the door and heard Dante calling her name. She turned away from the lonely man, not really wanting to go.

"I'm coming!" She called back, then looked at her partner's anguished face once more. Despite the pain that she suddenly felt in her heart upon seeing a vision of him, she still made an effort to caress his face and smiled, reassuring him, hoping that he would understand. She left him standing there in the middle of the room.

And as she glanced back at him, the sight that greeted her hurt her even more. In fact, the pain was unbearable.

His tears were streaming down his face, his expression simply too painful to withstand.

He doesn't want her to go.

He,... doesn't want her to leave,...

***

[bapydemonprincess]

A Human Trap

There’s a huge forest somewhere, and a lone human living in the middle of it, hunting and killing whatever he pleases...

-----

Todd stretched and groaned as he finally got up from his old rocking chair, smiling and breathing in the crisp night air.

This winter was sure to be a doozie, but Todd knew he was well prepared.

Dozens upon dozens of frozen meats of all kinds were stored in his nice little cellar. Duck, pheasant, turkey, deer, moose, and even fish as well.

He’d also kept many a nice fur hide or two and made them into coats and quilts and rugs! It was almost like living in a lap of luxury for Todd!

And no one was even around to give him a single gripe about it!

Sure, there were once in a while a coupla stragglers, folks who either got curious, lost, or heard rumors most likely, but they were easy to deal with.

Humans were even easier to hunt than animals sometimes.

So Todd felt no threats. Even before he became well armored, loaded with traps of his own custom making, and an expert shot with his ol’ friend Vicky (A lovely little Browning Superposed shotgun), he’d let the forest itself do its job of taking on the riffraff.

This forest had also felt like his old friend, hiding him from all else, and supplying him with everything he needed.

And no matter the season, it stayed that way, considering there was nothin’ but big old evergreens for miles and miles.

“Goodnight, pretty thing.” He couldn’t help mumbling to it, smirking like a fool in love, and heading for the front door.

As the door closed and everything grew considerably more quiet, except for the soft chirps of crickets still trying to enjoy the last of fall and the whispering hiss of the wind through the branches of the trees, another noise came from somewhere in that darkness amongst the forest.

A simple little hiss of a voice.

“... Goodnight, Todd...”

....

...

..

After that, it was as if even the wind and the crickets froze up in shock, not expecting there to be suddenly something new amongst them. Something not of that forest truly; Not an animal, not an insect, not a human.... not exactly anyway...

Black goop suddenly seemed to pour out of a crease between to evergreens, spilling out and spreading quickly.

But it had an end and that end separated from the shadows of the trees, as the thing that was a simply a black blob on the ground made its way closer to the little old house in the clearing. It would almost remind one of the shadow of a big fish in the water, circling and gliding along.

Once up the porch steps and in front of the door, it started to change, though. It morphed up and up into a small, human-like shape. It looked like a pre-teen or so of some kind.

Dark skin even darker in the night, exposed and not perturbed by the cool late fall wind in only a soft white cotton shirt, the human-like person also had simple plain dark blue pants, rolled up at the ends a bit, though.

And on their little feet, toes strangely colored in black, were only wearing simple sandals.

The person stared at the door, hands up and entwined together by their chest, slightly wringing as if they were unsure and uncertain of something.

They looked behind them briefly, back at the forest, bright shimmering red eyes staring at the trees as if they could ask it “Are you sure about this?” or something like that.

Finally, taking a breath in and out, the little one raised a hand.. and knocked on the door.

....

There was no response at first, just a soft whooshing going through the area, reminding the youth that they were most certainly alone right now. On a stranger’s property. On a stranger’s porch. In front of a stranger’s door.

Trying to get a stranger’s attention.

Swallowing, they tried knocking again. Harder.

And this time they heard it. The tromping of booted feet, the loud ruffling of someone moving and/or getting on clothes, and then the STOP of all the commotion when the other reached the other side of the front door.

Tiny keen ears also heard a soft clicking and clattering of something that was likely a weapon.

“Who issit?!” The man finally spoke, voice cracking with age and nerves that were tense and rattled.

This scenario had certainly never happened before...

“Uh- um, I was wondering if you could come out... a-and talk to me, please?” The younger one asked, raising their voice an awful lot higher than they were used to, and it showed in a crack here and there in their tone.

...

Todd went a lot slower and quieter this time, slipping over to the side window to carefully lift the curtain and get a peek of who the hell could be out there at this time of night, and with a voice like that.

But peeking out at his porch, he froze up instantly.

The kid had turned right there to look right back at him.

“THE FUCK?!” Todd shrieked out and stumbled back, staring at just the window now as if it was the one to blame.

.... But, wait. WHY was he suddenly so utterly frightened?! Yeah, that little squirt out there had surprised him in doing that, but... this was HIS property, dammit! HIS house!

“...Whattaya want from me, kid?” He called out again, shotgun firmly in front of him, even if there was no way a little rugrat could open a double bolted door that was also made of thick wood.

“Just to ask you somethin’.” Aarushi responded, staring up at him where they stood beside him now, hands demurely laced together behind their back.

Immediately following this came a scream of absolute horror as well as FOUR shotgun blasts in a row.

“...HOW DARE HE!!!” Sebastian Michaelis snarled and was about to shoot out of his and Agni’s hiding spot in the forest, until Agni himself latched onto the demon he deemed his love and held on as tight as he could.

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, calm, Sebastian! Caaaalm!!” Agni hissed frantically “You and I both know Aarushi can withstand bullets now, almost just as well as you!”

“THAT DOES NOT MAKE HIM ACTUALLY SHOOTING MY PRECIOUS KITTEN AT POINT BLANK RANGE ANY MORE BLOODY ACCEPTABLE!!!”

“Shhhh, moonlight. Everything will be alright. We trained them for this. We knew what could happen. They knew what could happen. It will be fine.”

Sebastian had stilled but was certainly not done growling and baring his fangs as he glowered out at the house. And not even Agni’s soft, soothing petting could help him this time.

Aarushi stood stock still after the racket died down, not even breathing.

Todd on the other hand was having quite a tizzy at the moment, huffing and puffing and shaking in place.

His eyes darted around and what he could see in the dim light was.. four holes, all in various places around his living room.

And not a single one had hit the child standing in front of him.

He lowered the gun just a bit, staring now in utter horror of the.... thing in his house that most definitely could not be a human child.

“Wh-wh-what the hell do you want?!” He hollered, but did nothing else this time.

Aarushi opened their mouth, then closed it just as quickly. Their little eyebrows knit and they clenched their fists at their sides and looked down at the floor.

“Um.. well, I wanted t-to ask you if um, what I was told about you was... was true.”

Todd just stared some more.

...

“Are... are you a hunter? Are you.. killin’ lots of animals around here, Sir?”

Todd’s face morphed more and more into utter confusion.

“Uhh, well uh... ye-yes..?” He answered, but ended it in a question for some reason or another. He just didn’t know what the hell else to say or do now! What was going on?! Was this just a dream he was having? Oh lord, he hoped so...

The child tilted their head, also looking confused now.

“All of the animals around here? Even the squirrels and chipmunks and tiniest fishes in the ponds and running streams?”

“I- I-  Well, yeah! I hunt what I want and when I want!” Todd found himself managing to gush out, his mind just gradually adapting to whatever the hell this was and going with the flow. “There ain’t no one around ‘cept for me, after all, so I figured I might as well.. do what I want!”

“Stop it.”

Todd froze up at the sudden change of tone from the child’s mouth.

“I- I beg your- your pardon..?”

“Stop it.” Aarushi simply said again, eyes still huge but now glowing in the dark, and pupils in the middle slimming down to almost thin lines. “Stop killing and harming the innocent free spirits of this forest; the old and the young; the big and the small,” Aarushi’s lips curled down in a snarl no one that knew them had ever truly seen, teeth sharping in their mouth to fine points in the process. “the animals and the humans.”

Todd’s heart was now pounding in his ears and ready to jump straight outta his chest. What the fuck kinda nightmare was this, some kinda message from some forest god or some such shit?! He tried to speak, or at least wet his lips again and try to make something come out that could be considered english.

“I-I-I was just- just tryin’ to survive myself! To- to just.. live and- and flourish, y’know?! Just like- like everythin’ el--”

“YOU BROUGHT MAN-MADE TRAPS INTO THE FOREST, TRAPS YOU DESIGNED YOURSELF, TODD. YOU HAVE HUNTED THESE CREATURES DAY IN AND DAY OUT AND HAVE ALSO HUNTED THE INNOCENT, LOST HUMANS WHO KNEW NOT WHAT THEIR FATE WOULD BE!”

The form of the child, while speaking these words in this ethereal bellow and beginning to slowly step closer and closer to the man, began to morph, and do so as if they were made of nothing but some kind of liquid. Their sandals disappeared, feet growing and nails on toes elongating. The same size change happened to the rest of them, till they were just inches from the ceiling. Arms longer, hands and fingers stretched out, now sporting what could only be black claws, strange beaded bracelets dangling from wrists, and then something like fabric was forming around these appendages, covering up hands almost. A robe enveloped their entire form, and yet still their head remained uncovered. Once short curly black hair now elongating too and twisting up into a thin, long braid at their back. And finally, at the creature’s back was something sprouting out that could only be not one, but two pairs of black feathered wings. And at the crown of their curly head, two black horns emerged..

The creature was now glowering down at the trembling mortal man with a scalding, enraged look that no human, and certainly no child could’ve ever pulled off.

“This is not your land, mortal. This land belongs to no one but Mother Earth herself, and the animals she gave it to centuries ago.”

And then the creature changed it’s language to something else.

“Even the great Goddess Kali would not show such a cruel human a single ounce of pity.” Aarushi hissed in Hindi, the very first language they’d learned to speak out loud.

After having witnessed this entire scene and having only managed to move just a bit back as the creature came looming closer, Todd somehow managed to muster up enough brain power to twitch his shotgun right into position aaaand... 

BANG.

Bits and pieces of the thing’s face and what looked like red, human blood went flying as the bullet hit it straight in the middle of the forehead.

As the creature started to make more ghastly noises at this new predicament, Todd bolted as fast as he could for the door, scrambling to unlock it as he recalled the goddamn thing hadn’t even gotten in that way somehow!

He kept looking back though, seeing the monster grabbing and clawing its face, blood streaming down black cheeks. But the blood seemed to be coming from it’s eyes not the wound in it’s head. Was it crying BLOOD, now?!

No time to think anymore on that. He got the last lock off and swung open the door, nearly inhaling the night air as fast as he could as if oxygen could help him get outta this.

But as he stumbled down the porch stairs, he heard it behind him, coming in HOT!

“GET AWAY, GET THE FUCK AWAY!!!” He finally shrieked out, turning around and trying to aim and shoot again.

But this time the creature whom he’d only seen take a few steps in the past, LUNGED OFF THE PORCH and tackled him down.

It’s weight felt like a million goddamned blankets all at once, and Todd also felt the vibrations of it’s growl that it was making, and he faintly recognized that as something similar to a big cat.

There was movement on the side of him, and Todd looked over to see some kind of black tentacle had grabbed his faithful shotgun, was raising it, and now crushed it as easy as a tin can. Then threw it off somewhere, to be forgotten and never used again.

Looking back up into the black hellish face inches from him, Todd saw the wound that was once clear as day in that forehead was now totally gone, and indeed the blood had been coming from those horrible big red eyes. It still was coming from them. Leaking down and dripping blood everywhere.

“Do you have any last words you wish to say, Todd? Before you are nothing but an empty husk in the ground? Fertilizing the Earth you so abused?”

“I... I...” Todd looked around, though he could not really see anything. Nothing but the creature’s face right there and a bit of the black sky above them, stars so itty bitty and so meaningless... “I’m- I’m sorry!” He cried, the first thing he could think of. “I’m sorry, I really am! I didn’t know I- I’d upset someone like this! I didn’t know I’d been so bad!! Please! Please just... show mercy! I... I swear I’ll be good, I’ll be better! I’ll stop harmin’ and killin’. I’ll-”

“S-Stop.” 

The beast suddenly stuttered, and the tone sounded almost... almost like that child’s voice again. Their big toothy mouth now crinkled up into a small frown, trembling. Were they... actually crying now? They shook their head back and forth and narrowed their eyes further, looking almost in pain instead of mad.

“You’re.... You’re lying.”

Aarushi nearly whimpered.

“... Just like.... Mamma said you would.”

And before the mortal man Todd could even make another sound in response to this, Aarushi dove in, and finally took out what they’d come here for.

Still crying and whimpering softly, Aarushi sat up straight and held the familiar looking orb of bright light in both if their big hands.

Wait... big hands..?

Aarushi suddenly froze up, shakily staring at their own arms and hands and then down further at the rest of themselves.

“AAAA!!!” They yelped and the soul went flying, while Aarushi went scooting away and curling up into themselves.

....

Sebastian felt like facepalming but quickly took the better route and ran out of the forest to comfort his little kitten.

“Oh sweetie, it’s alright! You’re fine! This is normal!” He told them, scooping up the soul as well in one free hand.

“I-I’ve NEVER looked like THIS BEFORE!! WHY?!” Aarushi wailed.

“Oh my little tiger cub, there is nothing to fret over,” Agni came forward as well, kneeling down and.. hesitating a moment as he saw the blood coming from their eyes. “.. I believe your Mother speaks the truth, sweet one.” He lowered his voice further and took out a handkerchief to help soak up some of the bloody tears. “This form may be new to you, but it is yours all the same. It is how you are meant to be. Do not fear your self.”

Sniffling, Aarushi finally uncovered their eyes and finally looked back again at the soul hovering in their Mamma’s grasp. Almost perfectly still as if it were a piece of art, and Sebastian was the proud artist.

But no, Sebastian moved the glowing thing closer...

“You have earned this, kitten. Please.”

Although Aarushi could not fathom the logic of “earning” a human’s soul, they sighed and lifted those strange black clawed hands, letting Mamma put the soul in them.

They now stared down the glowing thing, as they had many others they’d been fed before... But each and every one had had a different taste.

.. And Aarushi had an inkling they knew this one’s taste would certainly not be the best out of them all.

But nonetheless they brought it up close and opened their mouth, already feeling the pull from both themselves and the soul; It was strange, like there was a straw there to suck up a liquid like chocolate milk or something, but there was nothing.

And soon the light was gone, and Aarushi was feeling it, already taking root inside the half of them that needed it. Could taste it.

And oh.. the.. taste...

So. 

Much. 

Sin.

Aarushi started violently shaking, face scrunching up, and mouth opening. But no loud noises this time. No screams, either. Just broken, choked squeaks.

This man had been even worse than Aarushi had been told about. Things were surfacing from his soul that even other humans would probably be horrified to know about him. Things.. a child like Aarushi really shouldn’t have had to see or know of.

It boiled inside them, like thick greasy oil and tar and it was so bad that Aarushi finally tore themselves away from their Mother and hunched over on the ground, hands supporting them, and started heaving....

“Aarushi, NO!” Sebastian cried when he realised what his kitten was trying to do. He forced them back up, even as they struggled and flailed and grabbed their own abdomen like they wanted to tear it open and take the soul out that way.

“Please, listen to me, Aarushi! I know you are suffering from whatever it is you taste, but you must keep that soul down! You MUST! It will be USELESS to ANYONE if you throw it back up now! It has already been altered by being inside you!”

“It’s- it’s the worst!! Please! Mamma!! PLEASE! I DON’T WANNA SEE ANYMORE!!”

Aarushi continued on as the soul was absorbed into them for quite a while, for it took a long time to be fully absorbed when the human who had possessed it was not only very old, but had also had quite a lot of life changing experiences.

And though Sebastian did not wish for his precious only child to suffer, he knew all demons, including himself, went through these experiences of eating a soul that truly went against their pallet. 

And yet... energy was energy. And it was necessary for a demon so young to keep going.

He stood from the ground finally, cradling his kitten who had resorted to their human form close, like he hand many, many times before, and looked to Agni.

It was time to go home.

Go home, where Aarushi could curl up in bed with their many dozen soft plush bunnies and Miss Bunny, and Mamma and Pappa right there on both sides too, and continue to deal with the outcome of this experience.

It would take a long time this time, Sebastian and Agni knew, but they would be there all the way..

For though the results of this were not the best, what had transpired and lead to this had surely shown the two parents that their little one was learning and growing and soon... maybe soon.. they would find souls that they would enjoy eating.

And no more Todds.

[the-dragons-knight]

Prompt #30: When the First Shadow Fell

Entry number thirty for the FFXIV Write Challenge by @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast.

Prompt: “Darkness”

Rating: PG-13

Relations: None

Warnings: Pre-A Realm Reborn content, some fighting that could be called intense, so just be advised. It’s short, but warning here just in case.

It all began that night when Katsum was attacked. Everything changed that night.

- - - - - - - - - -

   Darkness... Anger… Rage… Shadow...

   These were the things Katsum saw as she looked at the boy who stood before her now. Before, she knew him as Criston, her dearest friend - or so he had been, but now...he was monstrous. An aura of darkness shrouded his form, and a dark, black oily substance spotted his arms and face, dripping off of his clothes and covering the floor around him as he walked. He was crouched over himself, bent forward as if his arms were but dead weight, dragging his upward body down towards the ground. His eyes were glowing red and his face was contorted with pain and anger, his gaze ever locked on Katsum. He looked like a demon, a creature from the darkest of shadows that Katsum had ever seen, and she was terrified.

   “C-Criston, please! Stop! You’re scaring me!” The young Miqo’te held her sword shakeningly, trying to appear as string as she could while tears streamed down her face at the terror before her, “I don’t want to hurt you! Please stop it!!”

   “Mine...” Criston wheezed, moving towards her slowly, step be step, “Give me...what is...mine...”

   “I don’t want the crown! If I could give it to you, I would but I-”

   “MINE!” Criston shouted and screamed at the top of his lungs, grabbing his head as if he was in pain. The sound hurt Katsum’s sensitive ears and she winced, trying to keep distance between them and keep her eyes open. His voice had slowly morphed into what sounded like multiple voices speaking at once, and what scared her was that she recognized the other voices…

   Then she saw it...the dark aura grew bigger, clouding the room in its think haze. Standing in that haze that surrounded him were three shapes, or three figures; one tall, others shorter, and she knew them immediately

   Katsum cried, both in terror and disbelief, “Criston...what...what have you done to our friends!?!”

   His attention returned to her as he bared his teeth and started towards her again, Katsum backing up to maintain distance, “MY friends. Not yours! Mine! ALL MINE!”

He shrieked and Katsum’s ears felt as if they were going to bleed. She saw him move and she raised her sword to guard herself just in time to stop his hand from hitting her, his clawed nails still reaching for her around the steel of her blade. He pushed her backwards and she fought to keep her footing as her shaking hands trembled against his strength. Criston hissed like a snake, his face drawing near to Katsum’s and she jerked away from him when he attempted to bite at her face. She stumbled into the throne, dropping her sword and falling into the chair. She turned and attempted to grab her sword again, but Criston’s hand shot out and grabbed her around the throat and squeezed. She gasped for breath, feeling the black oil staining her skin and finding it harder and harder to breathe as she clawed at his arm.

“C-Criston-n...P-Please…” She gasped, her eyes pleading as she tried desperately to get free.

“You are...no queen,” Criston hissed and Katsum’s eyes widened, “You are just a stupid girl...a lucky heiress...you are weak...and no one wants you as their ruler.”

   She clawed at his hand, her tears rolling down her face as her heart broke. Yet he seemed to not even see as he raised his other hand, the claws on his fingertips burning with shadows.

   “I am the true king! The crown and the dragon ARE MINE-”

   Suddenly, a great roar split the air. Criston was thrown back and Katsum was set free, gasping and coughing for breath as a new sensation over took the suffocation. Her necklace felt like it was burning her skin and she clawed at it as she fell on her side on the floor in front of the throne. As she desperately tried to regain her breath while the necklace burned against her throat, she blinked away the tears just enough to see a shimmering form standing between her and Criston. The beast reared back its head and roared again, lifted its have folded wings threateningly and swinging its sprinkled tail to crash against Criston and send him flying backwards. The boy tumbled as he hit the ground, yet he caught himself, his eyes glowing redder as he hissed and charged at Katsum. She wanted to stand, to move, to run, to do something, but it felt as if all her energy had suddenly left her and she had no strength to call upon. She could only watch helplessly as Criston charged at her, praying that it was swift and that it would be over soon.

   She closed her eyes and let go. The last thing she heard was the sound of another roar and she felt a warm wind blow past her.

   And then it was quiet, and she felt herself slip away.

[thosedamnsmoshkids]

GHOST HUNTERS AU HEADCANONS

A series of headcanons to create an overarching universe for the Ghost Hunters. because legit i couldn't think of a fic. Everything's the same, except for Smosh started as a channel devoted to everything supernatural and mysterious. Ian and Anthony created it to discuss supernatural happenings. It later extended, and instead of just being a weekly a talk show hosted by Ian and Anthony, it branched out into Supernatural Investigation Channel, (Smoshernatural), run by the Games crew, and much later a True Crime channel, (Smosh True Crime), run by the quintessential Smosh squad. After Anthony left the company, Ian moved to work behind the scene. He frequently guest stars, but not as much as he used to. Smosh True Crime The True Crime gang consists of the Smosh Squad, but in a somewhat detective form. They write and produce episode independently of one another, and most people recognize the styles of each member. The channel has three different running shows, Conspiracy!, which is conspiracy theory show written, directed and hosted by Noah; The Lab, a show about crime scene investigation/clean up and such; as well as a Q&A show hosted by a rotating cast called Visiting Hours. There is a running event every April Fool’s where the channel releases a fake True Crime case that parodies their own style, and is focused on a joke made from one of their videos throughout the year. Some of these have been videos have been, Shayne’s gruesome murder following the destruction of Damien’s golden cat, (which in this instance was a cat totem that Damien keeps on his desk on the Smoshernatural version of ‘Visiting Hours’); a Video on the cryptid CFM, or the strange creature known as Courtney Freaking Miller; and a video on the ‘disappearance of Anthony’, which aired on the April Fool’s after he left the channel. Smoshernatural It was originally hosted by Ian, Anthony, Joven, Lasercorn, Sohinki and Mari, and they would go around to different locations investigating, and bonded as a group. After some time, it was whittled down to the group of four (Joven, Lasercorn, Sohinki and Mari), with the addition of Wes, who is their fearless cameraman who became popular within the fandom for literally never freaking out, no matter what creepy location they’re in. Boze and Damien ran their own channel that focused on the spiritual side of the supernatural. Their channel was bought by Smosh, and the two were added to the cast, which created a new element that the show had never had before. Damien’s a medium, and there have been several bits based around Boze making fun of him for it. Boze herself works with a more summoning aspect, and works with portals and ouija boards. The channel has three shows as well, with Smoshernatural being their main pull and focus. It follows the gang to different locations to look for evidence, and it usually ends with one of them trying to get themselves possessed. Cryptid Cases is hosted by Mari and Joven, and focuses in on all things alien, cryptid, and basically anything that’s not ghost oriented, (the set is often crashed by Lasercorn wearing a tinfoil hat). The final show is a slight copy of Visiting Hours, and acts as a Q&A for the Smoshernatural channel. Coroner’s Report is hosted mainly by Damien, but it almost always has guests. Miscellaneous Headcanons - Boze has called the ghosts ‘little bitches’ more than 40 times, her record in a single episode is 13. - Lasercorn is a member of the ‘Tin Foil Hat Club’, and in all of the alien Cryptid cases, he wears his green morph suit, a pair of alien sunglasses and a tinfoil hat that grows throughout the course of the episode. - The True Crime Squad and the Smoshernatural crew have switched channels once, and had each of the Smoshernatural kids produce a True Crime episode, while they sent the True Crime squad to Waverly Sanitorium, a place even Sohinki said creeped him out, for an investigation. Needless to say, those videos have scored highly among fans, though the squad has said that they would never do it again. - Sohinki holds the record for the most times asking to be possessed, which was used as the basis for an April Fool’s episode. - Despite the fact that Damien is a medium, Joven has actually had the most experience with ghosts. The house he grew up is, by his claims, is very haunted. He, and Damien, have confirmed that there are five ghosts that live on the property, which is a farmhouse that was owned by his great-grandparents. The ghosts in the house consist of a ghost cat, a ghost dog, both of Joven’s grandparent who passed in the house, and a soldier believed to have been buried on the property. Joven has claimed to have seen apparitions of all of these, most notably the soldier, who walks the grounds during storms, banging on the front door and back doors to try to get people to let him in. They have done an episode on the house, but only managed to get some sketchy audio recordings, though both Damien and Boze believe that there are presences in the house. - Wes is the fearless cameraman, and is one of the only people on the Smosh team, besides Noah, who doesn’t believe in ghosts. He says that he ‘got close’ to believing while they were at the Sallie House a few years back, but he blames it on the nervous energy that was in the air, and that fact that he was sick. - Shayne and Damien are best friends, and met on the set of a True Crime special that tried to solve old cases by talking to the dead. They remained friends afterwards, and Damien and Shayne were both featured on the other’s respective channel before Damien was hired by Smosh. - Courtney holds the current record for the most viewed video on the True Crime channel. She re-enacted the murder of a young starlet in a film noir style, compete with a grizzled narrator, and stunning visuals in black and white. Courtney was praised for her use of the color red, which accented the blood, the woman’s lipstick, her dress, the red of a stop sign, and a car. The whole endeavor took her three months. - Keith is known for his artistic, jagged style, and most of his videos are completely animated. He focuses on the deaths of artists, which is exemplified by the kinds of visuals and music he uses. His art style is well known, and has improved during the years he’s worked for the company. His first video, which was his first time animating, is now used as a meme in the fandom. - Though Mari believes in ghosts, cryptids are her real passion. She started Cryptid Cases, and is the main host, appearing in all of the videos, unlike Joven, who is switched out for other Smosh members who better suit the episode content, (aliens for Lasercorn, angels and light beings for Damien, the devil and demons for Boze). There is a running joke that Mari is secretly a shape shifting cryptid, due to several strange photos that the cast has taken over the years that don’t quite look like them, and in reality it’s actually Mari slowly learning their form to take their place. She has yet to deny this fact. - Unlike most of the cast, Noah is very into conspiracy theories, and follows the stories of the dark web very closely. He created his show, Conspiracy! to shine a light on some of these topics, and had released a few before his show was put on semi-hiatus. Noah has said that he created enough to take it off hiatus for the next few months, but that some of them could’ve gotten him in trouble because of where he got his information. He has brought on guests for a few episodes, but they’re mostly just Shayne, who also shares an interest in conspiracy theories. - Joven has had a ghost hit on him, twice. - One of the oldest and most beloved jokes of the fandom and the cast is the theory that Olivia might be an immortal. The joke started when a twitter user tweeted at Olivia with a photograph of her great-grandmother that looked strangely like her. Olivia replied with a very vague tweet that prompted the entirety of the fandom to start going through a deep dive, and actually found several other photos that looked like they could’ve been of Olivia. It has been referenced in several videos, but Olivia has said nothing helpful to her case when the topic comes up. - Sohinki is known for his love of mothman, and he has confirmed that he owns a mothman body pillow as well as several mothman t-shirts and at least one replica of the silver mothman statue. - Boze once had her phone go haywire after using an ouija board to curse someone through her phone. - Wes, in an episode of Coroner’s Report, has said that the scaredest he’s ever been was when they were filming an episode at a haunted cabin in Wisconsin, and that he believes there were eyes watching him in the woods. and that's kinda it so far. hopefully i'll add to this, and feel free to add some stuff yourself, or use it for a fic, i'd cry happy, happy tears. Housekeeping & General Announcements Crime Does Pay Chapter 11 will hopefully be up tommorow, Finals have been kicking my ASS. After this chapter, there's a possiblity there might be a slight week long hiatus while i work on the new project introduced below For those of you who saw, I was writing like a college/paranormal au thingy, and the first chapter of that is done, and there's a chance that it'll be uploaded if i can get the energy to edit it. and boy oh boy, we got damien the unwilling psychic, goth girl olivia, and really everything you want in a mystery thriller. The Five Part Serial, The Ghosts of Mayweather, Begins Tonight

[catemagum]

          This has been a long time coming, but I wanted to talk about some of Sylas’ followers that I’ve created as NPCs. Yes, the majority of them are OCs of mine that were pulled in and used for just this, but they impact my interpretation of Sylas. These NPCs will be mentioned in replies, drabbles, and he may even feature some of their powers from time to time. I also decided to use this as an opportunity to really expand on how much foreign influence he has, and really showcase his allies from their respective nations. Of course, they’ve reached out in secret and met outside of Demacia’s borders, but Sylas has made quite a few terrifying acquaintances and friends. I will also update this post with new NPCs as I see fit, and will let everyone know when I’ve done so.

          If you ever want to interact with any of these NPCs, as I’ll be linking this post to the biography directly, you’re free to send in asks or inquire about roleplaying with them. This isn’t a multi-muse blog, but I do genuinely love these characters and would love to build on them more. With that said, just specify if this is the case!

          * Faceclaim names will be put beside the character name. All drawn image icons used feature art pieces that belong to me, either by commission or gift.

CASSIA WINCROFT   ---   RUTH CONNELL

          A beautiful and strong individual who wields powerful and wild fire magic. Wanted for breaking the Laws of Stone, Cassia has managed to evade authorities on Demacia’s outer borders for decades with her wildfires threatening their forestry and putting a wall between her and the mageseekers. Intrigued by Sylas’ cause and determination, she sees the fighting spirit and overwhelming potential in his eyes and was the first to ally herself with him. Over these short few months, Cassia has become almost motherly towards Sylas, ensuring he cares for himself from time to time whilst being the first at his side in dire times if possible.

          She finds Demacians amusing and toys with them for her own entertainment. While she isn’t one to endanger them purposefully, Cassia has a habit of forgetting the extent of her own powers. She and Sylas have an unspoken agreement that he may borrow her power whenever need be, and together they devastate the competition. She has burned down the homes of countless nobles with Sylas, and they are very rarely seen apart.

AMARAH KHAFRA & RASHAKEN

  ��       Shuriman born with a brief involvement in the Noxian military, Amarah was known for her unique abilities granted to her by the desert god RASHAKEN. A wielder of pestilent magic, Amarah causes widespread disease through magic locusts and scarab beetles, creatures summoned from the pendant around her neck. All it takes is one touch, whether by her hand or her insects, to inflict an individual with crippling illness. Exiled from Shurima for leaving the deteriorated and half-eaten carcasses of Shuriman nobles, and leaving Noxus when they pushed into her homeland, Amarah heard word of the chaos unfolding in Demacia.

          Reaching Sylas through a few stray bugs, they met in secrecy within Demacia’s walls and formed an acquaintanceship. While she cares not for the freedom of Demacia’s mages, she is a loose cannon following discourse and Sylas himself has felt the power she wields. Gifting him a few messenger beetles, they communicate through her unique insect creatures while she returns to Shurima and scouts for new allies, undercover.

EVANORA STEROS

          A demonic being that had lived in the world of a damaged magic painting within the Immortal Bastion long before Noxus existed, Evanora emerged from her world when the Demon of Secrets was claimed by Jericho Swain. Since then, she led a pretty quiet life within Noxus’ walls, opening a small shop of magical   ( and cursed )   items and potions, becoming something akin to a traditional   ( and stereotypical )   witch. Gifted with the ability to travel to any place through a painting or photograph, whilst also capable of creating alchemical reactions with a single touch, Evanora’s curiosity got the better of her.

          She travelled to Demacia through one of many paintings she had acquired from a weary traveller, and found herself clad in their usual white and gold garments. She had arrived in search of trade, her goods for items she otherwise couldn’t find in Noxus, and had gotten caught up in an encounter between Sylas’ starting group of people and some nobles. Evanora minded her own business, but Sylas persisted when he saw the magic she possessed. He asked her to join him, and she agreed, insisting that she could bring him supplies from Noxus in exchange for things she needed. Agreeing, though wary of her Noxian status, he took a chance and has yet to regret it.

KIRAEL NOAVEK

          Kirael was born into Demacian nobility, and hated every moment of it. Her childhood was spent at home, sticking to the books and learning proper etiquette, always deemed too good for the other Demacian children. She was later discovered to have psychic abilities, things akin to the powers oracles held whilst allowing her to utilize basic telekinesis. Appalled by her magic and deeming her as a disgrace to their family, Kirael’s parents locked her away in their home and reported her as missing. Several years later, during Demacia’s first Harrowing, Kirael could not escape the cellar as the corruption crept in. A spectre came with it, and took Kirael’s life only to bring her with it. Welcomed to the Isles as their oracle, Kirael swore vengeance on Demacia for what they had done to her.

          Seeing Demacia’s future in a vision, Kirael headed for the shining city three days before Sylas’ escape. She arrived a day after and sought him out, travelling only at night and avoiding prying eyes until appearing before him. She shared her story, her mistreatment, and offered her psychic abilities to aid him. She would be his eyes for the future, so long as he would be her eyes in the present. Although it is unsafe for her to remain in Demacia for too long, she occasionally visits to share her information and to obtain stories from Sylas. Their close bond formed through similarities of imprisonment, and he values her and her connections to the Shadow Isles. It is said that when she lends Sylas her powers, she lends him her true sight   ( with the consequence of losing his physical sight )   so long as the physical connection is not broken. Otherwise, he inherits her telekinesis for a brief amount of time when they separate.

YUYAKO KUROSAWA

          Born in Ionia, Yuyako is known for adopting orphaned children in her nation. Afflicted with a terrible curse that allows her to raise the dead, Yu tries her best to ensure the safety of the children she adopts while also attempting to bring restless and vengeful spirits to peace on the side. She was once a prisoner of war after the Noxian invasion, told that she would either join Noxus and aid them with her powers or she would hang, Yuyako spat in the soldiers’ faces in defiance. Feeling the ancient corrupting energy in the ground below her, Yuyako needed a diversion for her escape. She brought back several soldiers of the Ruined King’s army to storm the prison while she managed to steal one of Noxus’ ships and set sail back to Ionia.

          During her time in Noxus, she heard of Demacia’s mistreatment of mages and found herself disgusted. In a nation where magic was everywhere and in everything, Yuyako couldn’t fathom suppressing it. Her heart bled for those affected, and although she doesn’t approve of Sylas’ more violent means of fighting the government, she isn’t exactly anything short of a fighter either. Willing to participate by more peaceful means, Yuyako is the one to aid Sylas in breaking mages out of prison so long as innocents aren’t killed in the process. Sylas struggles to use her ability, attempting to force the dead to raise for him, but she knows he can learn to ask and reach them with practice. It requires peace, not violence, and she hopes he will learn to settle down with her teachings. Of course, she always returns home once her job is complete, as her loyalty always lies with Ionia.

DRAKKAR

          A former Bilgewatian gambler who made a deal with a mysterious man, only to find himself later possessed by a wraith of sorts. With his body morphed into holding this malicious entity, Drakkar is capable of becoming smoke-like, whilst also choking others by bombarding their lungs with smoke. He is a terrible creature, known for slipping through the smallest of cracks and willing others to gamble their lives. He becomes stronger with each life he takes.

          He and Sylas met in one of Demacia’s bars, the mystifying man attempting to coerce Demacians into gambling with him. One was brave enough, and Sylas had walked in to see the bar shrouded in thick smoke and fog. Intrigued by this power, whilst Drakkar assumed the worst, Sylas instead offered him a place among the other mages. So long as Drakkar promised not to harm the mages of Demacia, he would be allowed to stay. Accepting the offer, Sylas now has a personal spy and scout. Sylas does not enjoy using Drakkar’s abilities, and avoids doing so unless absolutely necessary to make his escape.

JAECAR

          Drakkar’s son, or, rather, partner. He, too, was possessed by a spiritual entity and has taken up the job of a Zaunite medic. Unfortunately, he’s not one for healing, rather, experimenting. He specializes in turning anatomy into puppets of his, whether living or dead, and he controls them through terrible means. It isn’t unusual to catch a glimpse of severed limbs moving on their own, nor is it unusual for the corpse of one’s local soldier to shamble through the town at night. Suspicions of his activities grew larger, driving Jaecar out of Zaun before he was caught. While he does have healing abilities, he prefers to use them for unfortunate purposes.

          Hearing word of his father’s stay in Demacia, Jaecar used his anatomical puppetry to cause a distraction and slip past the guards. He found his way to Sylas, reunited with his father, and offered his services as their medic. Despite his questionable morals, he promised he would not experiment on the mages and would, instead, use the nobles they killed as his research subjects. All too eager to lend his power to Sylas, mostly for research purposes, Sylas finds himself at an internal war over using it. While he has no qualms with controlling the dead, he does find it a bit unsettling to control the living.

ENJORRAN

          Deep in the Freljord, there is one such individual that has suffered far more than most. Known as an assassin, Enjorran is a golem created long ago as a royal guard for the first king and queen. After so many years, those he was made to protect have passed and he finds himself without purpose, whilst hating the direction the Freljord has gone in. With his devastating ice abilities, Enjorran has made it his personal duty to restore the Freljord to its former glory, and has essentially become a menace to any who stand with the three current tribes.

          Sylas reached out to Enjorran on a whim, hearing of this mysterious and powerful golem from books Lux had given him. He was surprised to receive an answer by way of snow owl, a letter written   ( albeit poorly )   in response and affirmation of acquaintanceship. Enjorran agreed to seek out other mages in the Freljord, ask them for help whilst reminding Sylas that he cannot go anywhere near petricite. He has agreed to lend his aid however possible in exchange for some of Demacia’s plantlife pressed between books. He has never gotten to see nature.   ---   Although Sylas has never used Enjorran’s powers, it would be incredibly devastating. Able to cover an entire city of Demacia in snow and ice, Sylas hopes that he may be granted the ability to use this magic someday.

LUCINDA DAWNHEART

          An orphan from the city of Piltover, Lucinda was adopted into the Dawnheart family and registered within Demacia’s group of mages. She has since then hidden her talents, but is among the Demacian youth who suffers from the discrimination against mages and magic. Living within one of the annulment slums, Lucinda has been protected by the other mages and has used her magic to both help and save people from danger. Magic that takes the shape of large claw-like manifestations that hover over her, this young girl has become a favorite among Demacian mages.

          Sylas indeed witnessed her powers when scaring away a thief from taking their supplies, mages telling the tales of a young girl haunted by a violent spirit. They keep her magic a secret with such a tale, and she plays off having no control over this demon.   ---   Recognizing her strength, Sylas has asked her to continue to protect mages so long as she stays safe, but she isn’t one to listen. Lucinda has a fighting spirit despite the innocence she portrays, and is determined to fight alongside him despite his instruction. Sylas has used her abilities once, and consequently torn a mageseeker and their accompanying soldier to shreds to protect a child being taken from their family in the slums.

VEL’AAN & NAVRESHA

          Not much is known about Vel’Aan aside from the fact that they were raised in Ionia. Trained to be a formidable assassin, Vel’Aan was given a task to hunt down accursed objects within Ionia’s hidden passages. It was their job to uncover the country’s secrets, and on one day they did uncover something. Hidden within the ruined temple, guarded by mages of all sorts, Vel’Aan heard the whispers of a voice with enticing promises. They slipped in through a hole in the roof, unseen and undetected, only to be met with a sinister-looking mask depicting the face of a woman. Introducing itself as Navresha, Vel’Aan would be given power in exchange for the mask’s freedom. Agreeing and leaving with the mask in hand, Vel’Aan would never be the same after putting the mask on.

          Sylas sought this duo out when hearing tales of the accursed mask being free’d from its confinement, that a young shaman had appeared in a Noxian city and left more than half the town in comatose. Bodies mummified in branches and covered in white flowers that never wilt nor die, not dead but asleep with no means of waking them, Sylas was intrigued by these powers. He sent an invitation to where he heard Vel’Aan was hiding out in Ionia, and set up a meeting outside of Demacia’s borders. They agreed to work together, and Sylas realized the power’s potential. It was not violent, but peaceful, a calming coldness that felt as though he himself danced with death personified. All it took was one touch, and a body blossomed. The flowers bloomed and the body shut down to sleep. It was beautiful, a good means of disengaging people, and he felt as though together they could do great things.

More to be added in due time !

---   void mage ---   darkin w/ hemomancy ---   one ( 1 ) yordle ---   targonian w/ weird space magic

[chronicbatfictioner]

A Real Boy - Chapter 10

Mythical beasts are supposed to stay in the mythical realms, according to Jason. Especially since they're really not supposed to exist. Like, it looked like someone pulled out a JK Rowling book and conjure the most obscure and ridiculously named creature there was.

"I'm not sure if I have to be more concerned that you actually knew the name and specifications of that creature, or that the..." Jason paused his grumble to actually roll his eyes, "--Snallygaster actually exists and is flying in front of me right now."

"I'm..." Conner visibly gulped. "I know the answer of your question number one, but number two is... yeah. I'm absolutely concerned. It's solid."

"No shit, Sherlock." Jason snapped. "And it went through Rachel's soul-self as if it was simply a fog and dragging Cassie behind it. Shouldn't you be there and help your girl out? Like, maybe to make that thing hold still?"

Conner looked somewhere between mildly offended and mildly... scared. And if Tim wasn't feeling the latter, he would have snickered.

As it was his first return to San Francisco for the guys' weekly hangout was rudely interrupted when they saw a massive snallygaster flying over the city.

"This is not what you meant by 'wishes came true', is it, Jason?" he had to check.

"Oh, goddess! No! You can't wish for a made-up beast to come to life - let alone one as big as that. This is more of a rabbit-out-of-a-cat kind of magick. Only the rabbit has wings and the hat was probably... large." Jason replied. "Hold on..." with the last warning, he finally heeded to Tim's mental request to go and check what the creature was made of so that Tim could rearrange its molecules.

"I should help Cassie," Conner mumbled and flew to where Cassie was digging her heels - quite literally, to stop said creature from causing any more damage to the city blocks in front of it. Bart was busy removing people from its path, literally and physically. Rachel was busy removing people's memory of them, not the beast, per sé. Because it would be easier for her to visualize the five of them and pluck said images out of people's brain than a creature that was sure to make the evening news. State news.

"Okay," Jason was back by Tim's side. He, fortunately, could make himself invisible to non-magickal people and magickal people alike if he wanted to. "that creature was non-organic. He's made of fiberglass."

Tim cocked an eyebrow at him. "Seriously."

"Yep, would you like to taste a feather?" Jason replied, offering a single, arm-length feather to Tim. Without even touching it, Tim realized that it was, after all, fiberglass. He sighed.

"Bart, I need you back here. Cassie, Conner, can you make that thing stop for one second, please? Two at most." Tim called through their communicator link. "I need Bart to make a controlled tornado to amplify my spell."

"Strength." Jason corrected.

"Bzzz, same difference!" Bart exclaimed, already standing by Tim. "Whirlwind it is, you want it to expand just as it hit him, yes?"

"Working on it, and I'm starting to get pissed at it..." Cassie growled. "Kon, make it like that old Star Wars movie and wrap it low!" she ordered. Conner took her lasso, wrap it around the creature's legs, and gave her a thumb's-up sign. Cassie roared, and her eagle familiar screeched to form a bolt of electricity that Tim was sure could fell a few elephants and five rhinos. Still, considering the creature was the size of a six-storey building, it was... only shocked.

But the shock rendered it standing still for just enough time for Tim to channel his magick through the wind tunnel, small tornado that would amplify said magick by laws of physics.

"I hope Cassie's armor is not fiberglass..." Jason quipped, just as the yellow beam of Tim's magick started to envelop the creature. "What are you turning it to?"

"Dust. What else that's not dangerous to the surrounding area?" Tim snapped his reply. "And Cassie's armor was given by the Greek Gods. I don't think they do fiberglass..." he added as an afterthought, as Bart vacuumed the dust and deposited it into Rachel's soul-self, where it would then be teleported to hell or something; just in case it would morph back to the creature and/or endanger anyone who inhaled it.

"Cassie's armor, thankfully, forged through heart of a dying sun and was made from the hide of the Nemean Lion by Hephaestus. So no, magick can't alter it." Cassie replied as she landed by Tim's side. "Good thing it's a hot day. People would think they're heatstroke-ing."

"Yeah," Tim sighed as Conner and Rachel also landed on the same roof he was standing on. "This... yeah, we need to hold a serious meeting, guys - of what Bruce Wayne had offered me."

"Okay," Cassie started, but Bart cut her off before she could say whatever was on her mind.

"This serious meeting will still be held over pizza, yeah?"

"Bart!" Cassie snapped. But Tim hold up his hand.

"Yeah, yeah... Kon, card." Tim reminded. Conner handed the credit card to Bart, who squealed and zipped off even before anyone could say anything.

"Thank goddess I wasn't assigned to that kid... I'd be very, very tired..." Jason quipped.

"I get tired just looking at him go, and I can actually reach his speed..." Conner remarked. "Anyway! This is about the Bruce Wayne meeting last... what was it? Tuesday? Wednesday?"

"Thursday, actually, Conner. You've known me all these times and still don't remember that I only have Thursday afternoon free from classes..." Tim replied dryly.

"What about Bruce Wayne?" Cassie wanted to know. "Diana is frothing about him and I think she has a crush or something. Which is weird because Wayne is like... dense. Not Diana's type at all."

"Rae, can you get us back to the island, please?" Tim prompted. Rachel just nodded, and a thick black smoke enveloped them all. Tim's mind momentarily wondered and analyzed the difference between Rachel's teleportation smoke and Jason's. Jason's was white, thin, breathable, but singeing the eyes due to its lengthy linger. Rachel's smoke was deep black, thick like fog, cold when breathed in, and dissolved within less than two seconds.

"Don't think of how to replicate this smoke, Timmers, it's hell-related." Jason quipped, tapping his forehead gamely.

"I'm not! I'm..." Tim started, but sighed as the outline of the meeting room - a.k.a. the dining table - in their basecamp started to come to focus. "No, not the smoke. I just wondered if... I can't help wanting to know, you know." he told Jason, and Rachel, who looked at him quizzically.

"You have already decided," Rachel remarked, annoyingly able to read Tim's mind. Well, actually, she literally is able to read minds, only that Tim distinctly remembered that he had specifically asked her not to. As Tim glared back at her as she walked toward the meeting table, she blithely replied, "no, Timothy, I did not read your mind. It was there all over your body language." she paused and turned to look at Tim. "Not everything needed demonic mind-reading abilities."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. I have decided for myself, that is. I'm... I've promised that I'm not going to sell the idea to you guys, but merely presenting it. Because I want you guys to decide on your own." he said. "Bart? You good?"

Bart, still on his commlink and probably about halfway to Nevada, commented. "Yup, I'm going to this amazing pizza place in Vegas and... yeah, you keep talking."

"There's a good pizza place in Vegas?" Jason mouthed, and Conner snickered.

"Okay, while we wait for Bart, why don't you start from the top, Tim. I got the feeling that this has something to do with you," Cassie decided, glaring at Jason.

"Hey!" Jason protested. "Well, kind of. But not entirely. It has more to do with Tim."

Tim sat down at the head of the table, inhaled deeply, and began. "Okay, yes. It did have something to do with Jason. But his part was just the push I needed to do something. It - whatever 'it' is - was started with my mom, apparently.

"As you all knew, my mom died while protecting my dad from this... insane voudou man called Obeah Man. But after my visit to Bruce Wayne's place a few days ago, I found out that my mom was not 'just' - quote-unquote - a hero for saving my dad. She was a hero long before that...

"Her job back then was to collect artifacts that are real and dangerous, and switch the ones in museums with fake ones--"

"--woah... a Real-life Lara Croft!" Bart quipped. The whole team, even Jason, groaned.

"Yeeeah, kind of. Only she's not only getting them for personal collection and stuff. Definitely not my family's personal collection. Instead she would send them to the Justice League via Bruce Wayne; where they would then defuse or destroy the dangerous ones. Wayne's job is to generally investigate those who had used or had been known to have owned or used, or has been looking for a specific artifact. He's assisted by the Oracle--" Tim stopped again as there were sudden screeching and slamming sounds coming through the comm-links. "Bart? You okay?"

"Pizza's fine, guys! So am I. I just lost concentration for a bit and almost cause a pileup!" Bart giggled. There was another collective groan. "Hey! The Oracle! I mean, isn't anyone else stoked at that? The All-Seeing Oracle!" he added excitedly. "Did you get to meet them? Can we go meet Oracle?"

Tim sighed, tried to pick up where he'd left off when something else struck him. "Okay, anyway-- wait, why are you so excited about Oracle? You know something I don't?"

"Just the legends!" Bart replied. "That they had singlehandedly dismantled the King Kobra cult without even being seen, and the King Kobra staff is in their hands even before the cult's priests knew it was missing. That the priests swore up and down that it was as potent as before the last time they'd used it, and it was like, a few days before it went missing and there have been no break-ins and whatnot." he ended the sentence as he appeared right in front of them with two large bags of pizza boxes. "Your card," he handed the card to Tim.

"Okay, wow... I mean, I didn't know about King Kobra or whatever that is..." Tim remarked as a massive slice of pizza was placed right in front of him. "Thanks, Jason. I usually would just wait until they get one before getting myself one."

Jason snorted. "From the pace of it, you'd be lucky if you can still snag the mozzarella remnants from the lid." he quipped.

"Hey! Some of us need a lot of calories, alright?" Bart protested semi-lazily as he practically inhaled his third slice.

"Okay, pizza's here. We've eaten. Tim, continue, please?" Cassie prompted.

"Right. Long story short, Bruce told me that he has had us monitored for a while, and knew that we've been trying to defend the city in our way. He offered to train us, especially in the physical aspects of what we do, so that we can be more effective and maybe would cause less property damage.

"The thing is, this came with Jason's warning that the future would be a lot more dangerous for us, the young ones in particular; and more specifically kids like us who are yet to either manifest their magick, or have manifested but did not have a place to train like we do. His argument is that if we can get like, professionally trained; we can be the fodder between the untrained new magis and the older ones and stuff like that. And if we end up facing something we can't handle on our own, we can call them for assistance." Tim finished the last two sentences in quite a record time that, if they weren't used to Bart's speedy speech-pattern, they might not catch on.

But they did.

"So they want us to be the JL's sidekick." Conner concluded.

"Partners," Tim clarified. Conner scoffed.

"Right. Since when would adults see us as equals?" he retorted. "Anyway, why would we need them? Aside of the possible emergency contact and whatnot? We're good on our own."

"I can't disagree with Conner. I mean, I love Diana and Donna with all my heart, but when it comes to mystics, they could be a hella hypocritical." Cassie agreed. "If I hadn't promised I'd keep everybody in check and focused on keeping the lot of us invisible, they'd have barged in here and like, drag me outta here kicking and screaming, probably."

Tim gritted his teeth quietly. Cassie had a point; in spite of her half-sisters being in teams of their own, they tend to be overbearing when it comes to what they perceived as Cassie's 'safety'. Never mind that she was almost as invulnerable as they are, or almost as strong and controlled. Or that she actually has a mother who could educate her on life in general.

"Rachel? Bart?" He tested.

Bart shrugged, "hey, I'm happy as long as I'm with you guys. So whatever the majority goes, I'm going." he replied. At 13, Bart was still significantly younger than they are, and could end up as a liability if he wasn't being fostered by another speedster, Max Mercury, who has a daughter who was older than they all.

"Rachel?" Tim asked.

"I see that Bruce Wayne is not the daft playboy persona he showed off in public. His mind has so many facets and turns that even I couldn't see - likely blocked off by his daimon. But even with my vote, we would be in a stalemate, Tim." Rachel replied in her soft voice. "How about we mull this through the week, and by next weekend, you can present some compelling argument or evidence why we should join them."

"Alright," Tim sighed and started to take a bite of his slice - two slices now, because Jason apparently got impatient and was kind of concerned at the speed of Bart finishing the pizzas.

"Alright, now we go do fun stuff!" Conner decided.

Jason was quiet, and it took way longer for Tim than necessary to realize that the quiet should have been seen as ominous.