#its my cane hah

[cannibal-nightmares]

you all really liked Stein with the cane, huh? (THANK U BTW??) boy, do I have news for you

[londondungeon2]

thinking about you and floyd getting a dog after graduating night raven college. sure, you two have grim but grim’s more like a roommate that skimps out on rent. so you two start looking for a dog through adoption centers.

you two go through a couple of breeds. floyd’s insistent on a puppy that is going to grow big; you don’t mind as long as the dog isn’t going to shed.

an alaskan malamute would shed too much, english mastiff maybbbe, you two consider a doberman and a cane corso too. then, at another one of your weekly visits to the local shelter, there’s a new puppy brought in, kept behind the biggest glass cage in the shelter.

great dane. seven weeks old, coming soon. birthday: Mar 13. name: Moose.

“cool name,” floyd comments while looking down at the dog who is solely entertained by the bone in his mouth. kneeling down, he taps the glass, “hey moose, ya got a good name there, buddy.”

the dog finally turns away from his bone, looking up at whoever is tapping the glass. floyd’s lazy smile kinda plummets off his face. curious, you peer down.

moose — cool named moose — has a blue and brown eye. you would almost misinterpret the blue as being a blind eye but no, that’s just pure heterochromia.

when floyd looks back up at you, smiling wide, you know you are walking out of there with less money than you walked in with.

“shouldn’t we have waited till he was eight weeks old? just to play with him in the play-pens and make sure we get along with him.”

“nah,” floyd says, flipping in his hand the confirmation slip that you two get to pick moose in a week. “we’d get along.”

“hah, and i tricked myself into believing this wouldn’t be a spontaneous decision.”

you are suddenly pulled into a side hug and kissed on the head, “yeah, you’re really dumb for that, shrimpy.”

so, in a week, moose comes home. floyd is loving every second of being a dog dad.

you have the apartment pup-proof which proves pointlessly when the very big puppy you two adopted manages to knock down any obstacles. it’s like having a tiny horse in the house!

yet, in a month, you have managed to organize yourself to accommodate a puppy with floyd’s help. moose does a really good job at keeping floyd in a constant good mood. a dog is always happy to see its owner, and that infectious happiness brings a dumb grin to floyd’s face without fail. and! you don’t even have to worry about exercising the dog, floyd has a big handle on it.

at nights, your 150 pound eel and 45 pound — and growing — moose falls into bed with you. kissed by your bf and licked by your dog. life is wonderful and full of bliss.

(life gets more wonderful when jade and azul visit because floyd is set on making sure moose is well socialized. and coincidentally, floyd just happens to have bought a new toy for moose — a blue octopus with purple tentacles.

moose is about eleven months old now and still very energetic which means he loves to rip up stuff. floyd lost one pair of shoes to moose and you haven't seen your boyfriend so stern towards your dog until then. you two have managed to trained him to only rip up toys now, nothing else.

so, as you are catching up with your friends, drinking tea jade has made, you are startled when a blue something is launched into azul’s lap.

“moose, toy!”

you watch sixty pounds of dog follow the toy’s crashing descent and jump into azul’s lap. then, leaping from loveseat to couch, starts tearing up the toy so fiercely that tentacles and stuffing starts to fly.

“i knew you didn’t buy that toy for pure purposes,” you scold as floyd laughs his heart out.

the rest of the night, you watch azul’s legs lift off the ground whenever moose happens to trot back and forth, following floyd’s every movement - kitchen to living room.)

//inspired by the fact my local shelter does actually have a dog with heterochromia and my own dog does have an octopus squeak toy <3

[shadebloopnik]

Angelic Alastor AU

"Al!"

The angel turned to the voice and the sound of flapping wings just in time to see the two Archangels land behind him. The smaller of the two- with porcelain skin, rosy cheeks and an otherworldly beauty, bounded towards him full of energy. Golden eyes peered up at him as he spoke.

"Just finished with our spar, and Michael said he loved the hat! I told you it was a good idea!", Lucifer spoke, deep chuckles seeming to brighten the area by its mere presence. He punctuated his words by adjusting the top hat on his head, replacing the usual golden crown, a prideful smile on his face.

"Your brothers clearly love you too much.", Alastor snipes before facing the taller angel, and giving a polite bow. "Your Highness."

Michael gives a solemn nod, adorning a small soft smile. "Always good to see you, Altruist. I had ample time before my next meeting, so I figured I'd accompany my brother on his way to your little appointment."

Michael bore nearly identical features to his younger brother, possessing the same blonde locks, white skin, and golden eyes, albeit being considerably taller. What he lacked, falling a bit behind Lucifer's beauty, he made up for with his dignified grace, a regal authority that rivalled no other. He reminded Alastor of a frozen tundra amidst the plans for the creation of life, as precise as every detail on each snowflake.

"Very well that you did, your Grace, as your brother appears to need it quite a lot."

"It was ONE time! And your directions were very unclear!"

"I fail to see how 'meet me at the gates' translates to 'circle the entirety of heaven for 3 hours', my friend."

"There are a lot of gates in heaven! No matter! They just finished constructing the new nebula! We gotta check it out Alastor! Come on!", Lucifer said, practically bouncing on his feet in excitement and circling the other in flight before dashing off in a burst of speed.

Michael let out a rare chuckle as Alastor sighed in seeming annoyance.

"Always so sprightly, makes me wonder how you keep up with it all, Altruist.", the Archangel spoke, stepping to stand beside the red eyed angel.

"Trust me Sire, its tempting not to follow.", Alastor replied, deadpan as he set his gaze to the direction the Morningstar set off on. Left alone with the other Archangel, without Lucifer with him, Alastor couldn't help but feel a bit insecure. Shuffling his mismatch wings, he subtly moved the upper white set to cover the red and black wings below, his hold on his cane, tightening ever so slightly, though not enough for Michael to notice.

Michael smiled, finding no offense whatsoever from Alastor's words and the casualty of his jabs towards Lucifer. Despite his words, Michael could see the fondness Alastor possessed for the shorter angel, clear as day. Alastor was powerful, only ranking below the Archangels themselves in sheer strength, and would be of higher standing if not for his reclusive nature.

He always wore a smile wherever he went, but it was different for Lucifer, softer, fuller. Alastor shied away from any interaction with his angelic kind, but fully welcomes Lucifer's presence, seeking it, even. It was without a doubt that Alastor cared for his younger brother, his loyalty and selflessness when it came to the younger angel was palpable, fitting of his title, and for that, he had Michael's complete and utter respect.

"But you will, you always do.", Michael turned to face the angel, golden eyes meeting peculiar red. "Its why I trust you with his life."

Its a bit ridiculous perhaps, considering Lucifer was far more powerful than Alastor could ever be, but in the end, it mattered little. Alastor held his brother's heart, and Michael could guess it rang true vice versa.

Alastor's smile froze on his face, his sharp tongue silent as he gazed into the Archangel. A bout of silence passed, broken only by the Morningstar barreling back into Alastor at high speed.

"Alastor come on slow-wings! Hah! Get it? Slow? Wings? Come on, its hilarious, lets goooo!!", Lucifer bounced, gripping at the taller angel's arm, making a show of pulling him along. Evidently he didn't use much force, seeing as how Alastor wasn't immediately carried off, but it was enough to drag the angel rather quickly still.

"Later Michael!", the star spoke with a cheerful wave, before speeding off, dragging a squawking Alastor behind him as the other hastily flapped his mismatched wings, as he struggled to keep up.

Michael smiled at the scene, before turning to leave for his meeting.

Protect his heart, Alastor, it's all I ask of you.

_________________________

The wind roughly brushed the trees around them, as 3 pairs wings fluttered to land, every flap bringing forth powerful gusts. Michael surveyed the area as he went down to Earth, a mossy swamp littered with fireflies, blues and greens seeming to glow under the night sky. He wrenched his eyes down. He couldn't bear to look at a star right now, not after....

He shook the thought away, marching to look for the angel he was looking for. He'd been searching for hours, burning through the whole day. Alastor truly was a recluse, he was impossible to locate when he didn't want to be found. This was the last place he didn't look yet. They'd let Alastor design these swamps, letting him have at least a little hand in the creation of Earth despite his numerous refusals.

There at the edge, he could see him, standing at the edge of the water, mismatched wings cocooning him, the white set covering his entirety until his black wings were nearly out of sight.

"Altruist."

Alastor remained silent, his back to the Archangel. It was perhaps the most disrespectful thing Alastor's ever done to him, what with all his usual obsession with propriety.

"Altruist.", he called again, voice growing desperate, frustrated.

Still, there was no answer.

Michael clenched his teeth, the day's proceedings catching up to him, leaving him with far, far too many emotions.

"Alastor-"

"Don't."

Alastor's voice was cold, an icy tone that rivalled his own. It made Michael angry, frustrated and bitter. Can't Alastor see that he's hurting too? That he's also grieving?

"I lost him too, Alastor."

His voice was filled with emotion he wouldn't dare name. He had to be strong and steady for his brothers, for the rest of heaven. Im front of Alastor though? In matters regarding Lucifer? There was no one Michael could relate to more.

So why can't Alastor see? Did he think this was easy for Michael?! He lost his brother too! He's not the only one suffering!

But deep inside, Michael knew. It wasn't the same. He knew how deep the bond between Alastor and Lucifer ran, perhaps deeper than he ever had with his brother.

Michael's heart was already given to Heaven as a whole, but Alastor's only belonged to one.

"Tell me Michael, whose life did you entrust to me, again?", Michael felt ice crawl up his spine, his heart growing heavier with each word. Alastor spun around, unfurling his wings to face the Archangel. His crimson eyes were redder than usual.

"How, pray tell, am I supposed to do what you asked, when you cast down the one I was supposed to protect? Tell me how can I protect him from the fiery pits you all threw him into? How, am I supposed to GO ON WITHOUT-!"

'Without them', he almost said. No, he couldn't be reckless, couldn't let his emotions get the better. They couldn't know about his own relations with Lilith, he promised the two he'd stay safe. No matter how much it ached, he couldn't go against them.

Michael furrowed his brows in understanding, letting the accusations wash over him. If it were anyone else, he'd have already smote them down for the audacity, but this was Alastor. This was the angel who held his brother's heart; angry and emotional and dreadfully loyal to the star even now. If anything, in respect for his brother, he could endure this.

Schooling his expression, he'd gaze back at the fuming angel before him, his face a blank slate.

"Lucifer's actions were reckless and destructive, with severe consequences. His reckless disobedience, his affiliation with the first woman, its shattering the very foundation of order we worked so hard to maintain. Such crimes cannot go unpunished."

His voice was cold, adopting the mask of a ruthless prince. Right now, he wasn't a brother, he was Michael, Sword of Justice, Protector of Heaven. He had to learn to separate each title, it was the only way to ensure he did his role right. He can't be a brother right now. He won't, not for this.

He wishes it made it hurt less.

As emotionally compromised as he was, Alastor couldn't mask the pain in his face as he squeezed his eyes shut at Michael's tone, knowing he was now speaking to a soldier, not a friend. The sight of it almost made Michael want to break down the mask. Almost. Not nearly enough to actually do so. He was able to bear casting down his own brother, this was nothing.

The thought sent another pang to his heart, and he pushed it to the back of his mind.

"I love him too..", his voice was low, resigned, all energy leaving him as he looked away from the angel before him. Michael was so so tired. "It had to be done."

The swaying of the leaves and the buzz of nearby fireflies were the only things breaking the deafening silence. Now that he thought about it, didn't Lucifer help make these? Little bursts of light flying amidst a darkened swamp...

Why must everything hurt Michael today?

He heard the other take a deep breath, and turned to see the other adopt a smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Thank you for your visit, your Highness. You may take your leave now."

Alastor always smiled, even when he didn't mean it, but none of those ever felt as wrong as this one.

"Alas-"

Michael cut off his own words at the other's glare. Alastor's eyes glowed a deep red, his sclera giving its own crimson glow. His glowing wings seemed to curl closer around him. All this while still keeping on that damned smile. It was uncomfortable. It served little to intimidate someone as powerful as Michael, but this wasn't about power.

He's never seen Alastor look so broken.

He may be set apart from the other angels, but he always looked so happy with Lucifer.

......but Lucifer isn't here anymore, is he?

Suppressing a sigh, Michael kept his voice level. ".....Altruist."

Alastor's smile only seemed to widen, contrasting with how his wings curled tighter around himself in a cocoon.

"I wish to be alone. Now.", the deceptively cheerful tone made Michael sick.

Without another word Michael turned around. There was no fixing this. Alastor looked as though a single action would cause him to flee. If Michael didn't take his leave, he'd have left anyway. All Alastor wanted was Lucifer, and Lucifer was condemned in Hell. There's nothing he could do.

As he spread out his wings, he took one last glance at Alastor's smiling face, before taking off, ignoring the muffled sounds of sobbing he left in his wake.

It was the last time he's ever seen Alastor smile.

[activesplooger]

Radioapple Oneshot: A genuine moment <3

Okay so this was supposed to be a little short thing but it ended up being a little mini story so enjoy! I'm actually rlly happy w how this turned out it's so sweet ahhhh! Masterpost!

Setting + Background: The Hotel hosts a black-tie gala to celebrate its newfound success! The venue is packed with residents and staff (as well as a few overlords and sins, courtesy of Lucifer and Alastor).

Lucifer sits at an empty table, sipping on his champagne as he watches his daughter manage everything and talk with the guests. Her bright genuine smile never faltering. He smiles softly, beaming with pride at his daughter’s determination finally paying off after years of struggling.

“Is anyone sitting here?” Alastor says, gesturing to the empty chair next to Lucifer. Snapping out of his trance, Lucifer looks up at the tall deer demon standing before him. “O-Oh! Yeah yeah of course, sit.”. Alastor takes a seat next to the blonde and sips his whiskey. Theres a long silence, Lucifer’s fixated on Charlie and not paying attention to The Radio Demon staring at him with a wide toothy grin.

”She takes after you, you know.”

Lucifer turns to face Alastor “Pardon?”

Alastor tilts his head slightly, his smile only growing “She takes after you. You have that same… look… in your eyes.” Surprised at the usually hostile demon, Lucifer furrows his eyebrows and gestures his cane toward him "Is this some kind of joke?" The Radio Demon waves a dismissive hand and chuckles, "Heavens no! Perish the thought, what would give you that idea?" Lucifer deadpans at Alastor and looks at him, a look that seems to say 'Get real'. Alastor takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes playfully, "Fine fine, I'll admit I haven't been the kindest-" Lucifer smirks and softly chuckles "That's an understatment" "Oh fuck you" "Hah, that's more like it!" The two demons share a laugh together, a raw moment between the two that was pretty uncommon. But, when moments like this did happen, it was everything. Typically, they would either argue, or just not talk at all. Every once in a while though, they’d set aside their pride and have a decent chat. Alastor sips his whiskey, looking back at the crowd of people fraternizing and dancing as he speaks. "But, seriously, as much as we don't necessarily get along... I do admire your ambition... More so how your ambition passed on to your daughter and brought us, well, here." Lucifer was about to retort with something snarky but, he saw the authentic look in his eyes... He wasn't smirking like a smartass, or having that strained smile on his face that he usually does... His ears weren't twitching, they were relaxed against his head... He almost looked... pure, and happy... Lucifer can't help the smile that starts to creep out from his teeth. "Thanks Al... That means a lot... Sometimes I feel so wrapped up in my own failure that I forget that it doesn't always turn out that way." Alastor looks back at him, the cocky grin returning "What? Afraid she was gonna follow in the footsteps of your short-comings?" "Well yeah I-" The comment processes in Lucifer's head, noticing the emphasis on the 'short'. The blonde looks back at The Radio Demon who was now stifling a laugh at his own joke. "Oh haha! Very funny! Asshole!" "Bwahahahahahah!" Alastor cackled while Lucifer pretended to be annoyed, eventually giving up and joining him in the laughter. The two engaged in playful banter, it wasn't hostile or a facade for Charlie to think they were fine... It was a nice conversation, nicer than the two would ever admit to others or themselves. As the night goes on, they talk until they're the last people in the venue. The only sounds being the two chatting and the soft, slow, music playing over the speakers.

For the first time in the night, there's a pause in the conversation... It wasn't uncomfortable, nor was it awkward, but it was there. Maybe it was time to end the night, despite the fact neither of them wanted to... Lucifer opens his mouth, but before he could speak Alastor interupts him. He was afraid Lucifer was going to leave, he couldn't allow that to happen. Alastor get's up from his seat abruptly and exclaims, a hint of desperation in his eyes "No!" Lucifer cocks his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows in confusion "Wha-?” "A-Ah, what I mean is..." The demon’s eyes dart around the room, searching for an excuse when his eyes flicker to the large, empty dance floor. He takes a breath, his compsure coming back in full force. Alastor leans down a bit and extends a hand to Lucifer "Care to dance?"

"O-Oh! Yes! I-I mean sure, why not!" The blonde tries (and fails) to remain casual in his response, but Alastor could tell by the light blush that dusted his cheeks that he was anything but casual about this. A shakey hand takes Alastors and they walk to the dance floor, swaying softly to the music... Nothing too fancy, Alastor would spin Lucifer here and there but it was mainly swaying. Occasionally, they would lock eyes before they darted their eyes elsewhere and blushed furiously. 'Its just a dance between friends', a statement the two repeated furiously in their heads in an attempt to avoid the obvious tension between them. Song after song, they continued to dance and grew more comfortable with eachother. Lucifer pressed against Alastors chest and held his hand loosely as they swayed. Alastor hummed along to the song, relaxing Lucifer as he felt the vibrations from his chest against his head. "Enjoying youself, your higness?" "..." "Hm?" The tall demon feels Lucifer go limp against him, he had fallen asleep. Alastor chuckled softly and picked him up bridal style, going up the stairwell to Lucifer's room to ensure nobody saw him in such a compromising state. He walked into Lucifer's room. Rubber ducks were pilied into large bins around the room and the lavish furniture had a circus theme to it. 'So tacky...' Alastor thought to himself. He layed Lucifer down on his bed and tucked him in. Alastor took a moment, just staring at him as he slept. Not in a creepy way, but in a loving and affectionate way... He exhales softly and kisses Lucifer's forehead. "Goodnight, Luci" Alastor warps out of the room in a black shadow. After he left, Lucifer smiled to himself. He felt and heard the whole thing, the cheeky blonde just wanted to see what Alastor would do if he faked sleeping. He hugged his duck plushly tightly and fell asleep with a content smile.

The End! <3

Okay i actually ended up loving this lmk what you guys think i love radioapple its so cuteee kajfckaslnjlaf Masterpost!

[puttersmile]

Through the Looking Glass

Chapter 1: Carnival in Critterville

Bobby Bearhug nervously sidled up to the young dog. “Dogday you know the carnival is finally opening this weekend!”

The bright orange dog’s ears perked up at the girl’s words. 

“I know and I can’t wait!” His eyes brimmed with excitement. Bobby grinned at his infectious enthusiasm. 

“What if both go together? I think it would be nice to go with you.”  Bobby was careful to not use the term “go out” in her proposal on purpose, she didn’t want to be so forward. 

Dogday nodded. “Actually I planned to invite everyone to go together. It’ll be a big day for everyone!”

“Mhm!” The enthusiasm in Bobby’s smile faltered but she carried on. “A big day for everyone. I’m sure they’ll love it!”

Finally the weekend came and excitement was the prime word in Critterville. Everyone loved the carnival. A place where friendships and spirits could shine. The atmosphere of laughter and the scent of sweet treats, provided a perfect backdrop  to bond and challenge each other in fun games. The carnival was more than just a collection of rides and attractions; it was a celebration of the critter community and the happiness they found in each other's company.

“Come ooon you guys are too slow!” Hoppy Hopscotch tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the others to catch up.  Her friends faithfully trotted down the path behind her but at a much slower pace. 

“Give me a break,” Bobby Bearhug used a paw to sweep non existent sweat off her brow. “Hoppy, I don’t want to be exhausted before I even get there. Just go on ahead!”

“How about  a race?" Dogday picked up his pace to match Hoppy’s. "Last one there buys a cotton candy bucket!”

Hoppy’s frown flipped into a smirk. “Hah, I’ll point you out to the shop guy. He’s going to need a description by the time you get there.”

“You’re on.”

“Snooze you lose!” The little green rabbit was off in a flash, leaving a dust trail for the others to follow. Dogday giving his all just to keep up. 

“Wow Dogday is getting faster.” Craftycorn complimented while Bubba sighed. 

“He still doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Geeze it's not like the carnival is going anywhere.” Kickin shrugged. “It’s going to be here all summer.”

The vibrant sounds of laughter and excitement filled the air as Bobby Bearhug and her friends strolled through the bustling carnival grounds. Critters from all over the island were gathered here, mingling around vendors, rides and games. Kickin motioned towards Picky who had gotten there extra early to set up her own stall to sell caramel apples.

The smell of popcorn and cotton candy wafted through the air, mingling with the distant strains of carnival music. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the colorful tents and rides stood out like a lively patchwork quilt.

Bobby looked around with a warm smile. Her friends were just as excited as she was, each of them buzzing with anticipation for the fun activities ahead. Craftycorn, was practically bouncing on her hooves. Dogday and Hoppy were well ahead of everyone else scanning the area with eager eyes, ready for action. It seemed Dogday hadn’t bought a cotton candy bucket…yet, but Hoppy didn’t seem to care as she eyed the rides. Dogday’s glare was set squarely at the carnies, a giraffe wearing a sharp vest and hat was waving a cane at all of his prizes, daring anyone to come and try and win his game.

“Its about time you slow pokes got in here. Look at all the rides and games!” Hoppy exclaimed, she seemed ready to burst. “There’s so much to do! Even more than the last time!”

“I want the front seat on every rollercoaster!” Kickin claimed. “That is the only way to ride!”

“I’m going to test my luck at the balloon darts,” Dogday announced, rubbing his paws together with determination. “I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

“Win a big fluffy doll for me!.” Craftycorn shouted. “But I’m going straight for  the Ferris wheel. I want to see the whole carnival from up high. The view would make for a great painting!”

Bubba  continued to observe in silence, more reserved, then surprising everyone by showing interest in the art activity tent. He pointed his trunk  in its direction. “I think I’ll check out the art tent. It seems… interesting.”

Craftycorn tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Art? Since when did you get into art, Bubba?”

Bubba shrugged, a thoughtful expression on his face before crossing his arms defiantly. “ Why wouldn’t I? It’s interesting how colors and shapes can express emotions and ideas.”

Craftycorn giggled. “Well, look at you, Bubba! Maybe some of my incredible love for creativity is rubbing off on you. Hmmm?”

The elephant’s ears turned a slight shade of pink, and he looked flustered. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbled, avoiding her amused gaze.

As her friends chatted and made their plans, Bobby found herself standing a bit apart, her eyes wandering over the various attractions. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. The ferris wheel sounded nice and she could go now with Crafty, but she figured it would be best to save that for later. Maybe during the sunset. Maybe with Dogday. Ahem, but that was a distant hope. In the now, the excitement around her was contagious, but nothing seemed to call out to her.

Just as she was starting to feel a bit lost, her eyes landed on an intriguing tent at the edge of the carnival grounds. The sign above it read “Mirror Maze,” the entrance was adorned with swirling patterns and reflective surfaces that shimmered in the sunlight.

“A mirror maze? That wasn’t here the last time the carnival rolled into town.” She thought. 

Curiosity tugged at her, and Bobby felt herself drawn to the tent. She took a few steps forward, her heart beating with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The idea of navigating through a maze of mirrors sounded both challenging and fun.

When she reached the entrance, Bobby noticed there was nobody attending it. The tent seemed abandoned besides a painted sign which said “FREE ADMISSION. PLEASE ENJOY”. Bobby squinted suspiciously yet there was an inviting allure. A mysterious urge compelled her to go ahead and explore.

The cool air inside was a welcome contrast to the warmth outside, and the reflective surfaces created a dazzling, almost magical effect. She could see countless versions of herself, each one leading in a different direction.

For a moment, Bobby felt a pang of uncertainty. Should she actually be here? She quickly brushed her doubts away remembering the sign outside. With a determined smile, she decided to embrace the challenge. She started forward, her eyes scanning the maze for clues and pathways.

The mirrors played tricks on her perception, making it hard to tell which way to go. She giggled at her own reflections, tall, short, thin, wide. The maze was like a puzzle, and she was determined to solve it.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and a brief moment, Bobby reached the end of the maze. She found herself in a small, secluded chamber. In the center stood a large, ornate mirror. It was grander than the others, its frame decorated with intricate designs.

Next to the mirror sat a small card. Bobby picked it up and read the words written in elegant script: "Is this the worst you?"

The question confused her. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, feeling a slight chill run down her spine. “The worst me? What is that supposed to mean?”

 Being alone in the maze, with this enigmatic message, unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She hugged herself, the coolness of the maze was suddenly too much. 

Bobby took a deep breath. “Oh come on! Shake it off, Bobby. This is probably just some kind of riddle.” The  cryptic question was honestly baffling, as she glanced around the chamber for other clues. She was about to turn away from the mirror when suddenly her reflection moved in a way she did not. Her reflection smiled and waved at her sweetly at first, as if acknowledging her presence. Bobby’s heart skipped a beat.

The smile warped. The reflection’s eyes became hollow, dark voids that pierced into Bobby’s soul. The sweet demeanor turned sinister.

Bobby screamed, her voice echoing through the empty maze. She turned to run, panic surging through her veins. But as she did, the lights in the maze went out, plunging her into complete darkness.

Bobby felt dethatched, like floating in a void, before the lights flickered back on. She blinked, disoriented, and found herself still in the maze. The mirrors reflected her confused expression as she quickly made her way back to the entrance. Her heart pounded in her chest, the unsettling experience still fresh in her mind.

As she stepped out of the maze, she realized it was now nighttime. The carnival was eerily silent, the once lively grounds now deserted. The vibrant colors of the tents and rides were muted under the dim light of the moon. Bobby’s sense of disorientation grew as she tried to make sense of what had happened.

Confused and scared, she began to run towards home, her mind racing with questions. How long had she been in the maze? Where was everyone? Why did everything feel so wrong?

“Bobby!” a familiar voice called out.

She stopped abruptly, turning to see Dogday running towards her. Relief washed over her for a moment, but it was quickly replaced by terror when she noticed his appearance. His right ear was half missing, the remaining half covered in bandages. He looked thinner and exhausted, like a shadow running though the grayed city of tents.

“Dogday, what happened to you?” Bobby asked, her voice trembling. "Your ear is-"

“You know how dangerous it is at night,” Dogday interrupted, his voice filled with ragged concern, ignoring her question. “Where have you been? I was worried.”

Bobby’s heart ached at the sight of her friend. “I was… in the mirror maze, but then… I don’t know. Everything went dark, and when I came out, it was night.”

Dogday’s eyes widened. “The mirror maze? Bobby, you’ve been missing for hours. We thought something terrible had happened.”

“Hours?” Bobby repeated dumbly. Nothing made sense. She looked around the empty carnival grounds, the eerie silence pressing in on her. Dogday reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her attention back to him with an insistent yet timid yank. 

AN: Attempting an attempt at a fanfiction. Based on @sctigthesecond 's selfish critters au. I'm using them as the basis though I might add my own ideas. I've wanted to write a fic like this for a while but yeah I'm a draw person not a write person so we'll see how well this goes. It's time for me to traumatize my Bobby girl. If I make it any farther then I'll post it on A03. Yee!

“We need to get inside. Thank the stars it isn’t raining.” Was the last thing he said before he started to pull her towards the carnival entrance and back towards the path through the forest heading for their homes.

Part 2 Here

[instarsandcrime]

Pride Is A Fickle Thing

Well...at least it's not just Lu/ci/fer this time?

@onetrickponi had some great prompts to offer and, since she said she might be writing them, I decided to change up a certain one a little so it turned out the same but also different! Can be read as Ra//dio//App//le or just platonic fluff! Enjoy! ❤️

Prompt: Lu/ci/fer heals A/la/stor, though it takes a great deal of expended effort on his part and it turns out both of them hate looking weak in front of other people.

---

"Hp'shhzzzt!" A sharp, staticky sneeze slipped through a crack in the shadows.

Alastor wheezed as he grabbed yet another handkerchief from his collection, attempting in vain to blow away the clinging itch that stuck to him for the entire meeting. But he couldn't help it. Every single twitch of the finger, every flick of the ear, every time he even bothered to move his holy wound its poison would snake through his ribs and up to his aching head. And when it did the reaction got worse. And when the reaction got worse he couldn't help but...c-couldn't...help but…but snehhh--

"Et'chhht! TSH'ZZZZHHEW! Nnghh..." The overlord muttered out a string of curses as another wave of pain shot through him, grasping a pillar before he could double over and collapse.

“Oof, ouch! That one sounded rough." An irritatingly cheery voice chirped from nowhere in particular.

"Oh do be qui-quieehhh...Heh! Heh’eshhh't! Het'chhhzzz't!" Pressing a well-used cloth up to reddened nostrils, Alastor hurriedly straightened himself, discreetly rubbing the swarm of feathers he felt as far back as it could go.

"Bless y-- er, no, wait. That's not appropriate for someone like you, is it?" And with a golden puff of smoke he finally appeared. The six winged thorn in his side. “Fuck off? Damn you? Curse you, maybe? Mmmn no, I think you’ve already got that handled.”

"Lucifer." Alastor's ear flicked in annoyance, "What can I do for you m-my unh-huhh-holy fellow? Off t-to find some...s-some...snff! Suhh-someone to pestehhhHET'ZSCHHHH! Ghhh..."

The fallen angel winced as shrill feedback pierced the air. "Lookin' a bit sneezy there, bud. I guess even the most powerful overlords catch colds. Just goes to show that somewhere deep, deep, deeeeep down, you still have a mortal soul."

The Radio Demon chuckled, smile splitting despite the feverish beads of sweat that rolled down his neck. "On the contrary! Why, I'm the guardian angel of the Hazbin Hotel! I'm sure Charlie would agree."

Lucifer twisted the cane in his palms. “Ohoh! That definitely sounds like my little girl!”

"Agreed! She is truly a marvel. Exiling all doubts with a cheerful smile!"

"And when the hotel gets big enough, who knows? Maybe she won’t even need you anymore! She can take your place all on her own-- without the tacky bellhop suit, of course."

"Hah! Radio never truly goes out of style. Unlike...u-unlike the...the..."

"Speechless already?"

"A trifuhhh…huh! T-trifling matter, My Liege. I'm simply allergihhh...allergic to...to your bullshhHHT’SHHHhhoo...Huh'zschhh!"

"Impressive comeback. You should really--"

"'Hup’KZSSHHHT! HT'SHHH'OOooo...guhh…snff!" Worry bloomed on Lucifer’s face when his rival flashed a sliver of a wince. And as quick as it grew, Alastor rushed to crush the blossom with the wave of a hand. “Such compassion! I was wonderihh…wondering when the sin of pride would lower himself to such a weak emotion–”

“Let me see it.” 

“Pardon?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His patient opened his mouth, “Nope, wait, don’t answer that. Just let me see the wound.”

“Hah! How absurd! Me? Get hurt?” The Radio Demon’s voice crackled with laughter, an unseen audience following suit. “Has our poor king gone senile in his old age?”

“I–! You–!” Lucifer took a deep breath, wisps of smoke billowing from his nose. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

“Okay.”

Despite his eternal grin, Alastor’s feverish eyes blinked back confusion. “...O. Okay?”

“Okay.” The king deadpanned, hopping back a few steps. “You like making deals, right?”

“I do have other hobbies, you know.”

“Nice. I don’t care. Walk to me without sneezing once. I know you can hide the pain, but if you think holy poison will just go away, then you must either be the most stubborn man in the nine rings, or the biggest dumbass.” He paused. “Or both. If you lose, I heal you and you never have to think about Adam and his gaudy lute axe again. If you win, let’s just say that in a few more days, no one in Hell will hear another broadcast from The Radio Demon again.”

A suffocating silence fell over the two, with only the small ambience of old timey cigarette advertisements and Ella Fitzgerald to keep them company. Until finally obsidian claws drummed against the tip of a microphone.

 “...Fine.” Alastor said simply.

“Fine.” Lucifer spat back.

“A simple task, really.”

“Then stop stalling and do it, coward.” Satan flashed his pearly fangs.

A scarlet eye twitched. His opponent took a tentative step forward and the itch followed suit, fighting the urge to rub a knuckle against it.

“Having trouble there?”

“I can assure you I'm per…p-perfectly fihh-fide.” Another step. The growing tickle burned from the bridge to the tip.

“Fihhh-fidt as a fidd-fiddle.”

Almost halfway. Hold it in, hold it in.

“I'b dot as weak as y-yuhhh…you thidk…”

Through irritated tears, slit pupils studied him closely. “Uh-huh. Still don’t believe you.”

Temper beginning to flare as badly as his wound, the overlord opened his mouth to retort. But his voice was completely stolen as the itch teased the rim of his nostrils. It built and built until–

Oh, fuck it.

“Heh'SHHHHZT! Ihh-hih-Hp'SCHHH! ‘TSCHHHH'hhooo…nhhh…” The ground beneath him whirled and tilted like a merry-go-round and he was falling, falling, falling– only to be caught and dragged off the ride with unnervingly gentle hands.

“I've got you.” Lucifer muttered.

“What’s goi’g od? Why are you doi’g this?” The Radio Demon demanded as he was lifted, a body barely up to his chest not acknowledging his weight.

“Because lucky for you, I used to be a saint.” Wait…when did they get to his bathroom? When was he suddenly draped against the wall?

“You hate me." For some reason Alastor couldn’t control his shaking voice, losing the strength to fight. He sounded so disgustingly fragile. He hated it. He hated this. He hated. He. Hated.

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, shut up and let me save you already!” Lucifer swore, clicking the locks in place with the snap of his fingers. Alastor flinched when freezing hands pressed against a soaked through dress shirt and– oh.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, no shit!” A pure light became a ripple. Then a swirl. Then a bubble. It filled every space imaginable, bathing the pair in its warm blanket. Faintly, Alastor tasted a hint of jambalaya on his tongue. And like a needle and thread to a spilled over poppet, The wound began to close.

Unfortunately, despite the subsiding agony, the holy light that caught his patient's eye did not agree with him. Wait. If angelic power hurt a demon, why was he being healed with–

“H-hhh!” Alastor’s breath hitched.

“Seriously? Now? I’m trying to work here.” Lucifer growled, almost fumbling the surgery when his concentration nearly broke. Through the haze, the overlord could glimpse familiar beads of sweat that trickled down the side of the fallen angel’s neck. 

“H-hhh…c-cad’t…h-hhhhelp it…” Between hiccuping breaths and stuttering speech, somewhere along the way a finger was pressed underneath his fluttering nostrils.

“I swear to my fucking Father.” Lucifer huffed out, blinking blearily as he continued his surgery one-handed. And before the wound closed, Alastor couldn’t help but dread at the way Lucifer’s eyelids drooped further and further, teetering between exhaustion and pain.

With two hands the healing process would have taken two minutes.

With one it took two hours. Or at least, the amount of hands was Lucifer’s excuse.

Alastor would have been more impressed if not for the fact that he was not impressed, because it was a ridiculous emotion to have for Lucifer of all beings. So instead, the next day, he chose to focus on what couldn’t heal right away.

“Het’schhzz!” Alastor pitched into his handkerchief, and Charlie quickly caught his breakfast plate before she could drop it.

“Bless you!” She breathed, clutching her chest with one hand.

Well. At least it wasn’t every five seconds.

“Thank you, my dear. Ironic as it may be.” Alastor chuckled, moving to pick up his utensils. He scanned the dining table to take in the morning rush. Angel Dust was gabbing away next to Husker, silently snatching food off his plate with his lower pair of arms. Vaggie was taking a sharpening stone to her spear between bites of food, softening when her princess veered the corner to give a quick peck on the lips. Sir Pentious was waving his spindly hands about, excitedly explaining the inner workings of his ‘flying machine’ to Niffty, who was absolutely more interested in the bug crawling on his top hat.

Overall a peaceful morning. Too peaceful. It unsettled him that there was one piece missing–

Ah. Out of the corner of his eye a small, white rat slowly crawled across the carpet. One with chubby, cherub cheeks. Fur mussed. Bags under its button eyes. A golden flush dotting his face, glowing like a firefly. And then suddenly everything clicked.

The lack of a wound or poison, but still feeling a fading tickle. The shared symptoms between them. Lucifer hadn’t just been exhausted that night. He hadn’t just healed him. Oh no, the bastard just had to take the holy poison for himself knowing that a half-holy body would survive. Though it was obvious he was equally– oh, what was that saying Rosie was kind enough to teach him– ‘going through it’. The fact that he would even risk inhaling a drop for someone he hated so much…

Hm.

Well, Alastor decided to himself, It would be remiss of him to not repay the favor. So with all the mercy of a heartless overlord, he kicked the stupid rat as far as it could go. With a startled squeak and a puff of smoke, the King of Hell tumbled across the floor. The dining room went silent for a moment, all eyes on the sudden appearance of Lucifer Morningstar lying on his back– disheveled, dazed, and stone still.

“Oh my gosh, dad!” Charlie yelped as her father pushed himself upright– moving stiffly, Alastor noted. “I didn’t see you come in…to…” As she helped him stand, her voice trailed off. “Are you okay?”

“I second that, fer the record.” Angel Dust waved a fork nonchalantly in the air, “Kingy’s always an early riser. What gives?”

“Worrywarts, aren’t they?” Lucifer jolted as Alastor popped up beside him with a screeching static, suddenly inches apart. His smirk widened as he tilted his head with a little, high pitched ‘hm!’ “I must say, I can’t help but feel the same. Your regal features look a bit. Oh, what’s the word?” He motions to his own face with a dramatic flourish. “Off-color.”

Lucifer’s glare broke when he put a hand up to his cheek. Then another, eyes growing wide as teacup saucers. It didn’t help when embarrassment overtook his feverish blush, brightening with the panic. “H-hah!” He chuckled nervously, summoning his top hat to tug the brim over his face. “W-wouldja look at that? Guess I fell asleep at the ol’ workshop again and I ran my power a little too– …t-too hot…” He sniffed sharply, rubbing at his nose.

“How uncouth.” Alastor circled the man like a ravenous beast. “Quite unlike yourself to be in such a state. Maybe you should be a little more honest. I can even give you a push.”

“Wh-whhhat are you–”

With a single poke of his cane Lucifer stumbled, grimacing in pain. And it only took one poke for that short-lived charade to fall apart.

“H-hehhh! No, ndo dabbit keeb idt togehh…together…”

“Your Majesty? Are you…?” Vaggie sat straighter, brow furrowed.

“Oof! That don’t look right.” Angel winced.

“Mhm.” Husk hummed into his mug of whisky.

“Oh my. The ultimate bad boy needs to be cleaned!” Niffty gasped.

“Poor thing.” Sir Pentious’s bottom lip wobbled.

“Dad?” Charlie set a hand on his shoulder. Then jumped back with a squeak as the single touch sparked the powder keg.

“Hit’schh!” Lucifer bent at the waist, merciless fit wracking an already exhausted body. “It’schh! It’shieww! Hit’SCHIEW! Hnt’SHIEW! HET’SCHH! ‘TSHH! TCHH! Hit’SCHH’HIEW! H-hihhh…hih! Hih– HITSCHHHH’HIEW!”

The room went silent. Angel Dust whistled lowly.

“My goodness, bless you!” Alastor gaped, every movement an exaggerated performance.

“Y-you did thahhh– thadt od purpose you sohd of ahhh– hah-HATSCHHHHIEW!” The fallen king pitched forward again. When he finally surfaced he was staggering, holding his aching head. “S’rry…’bout thadt.”

Before Charlie could run to catch him Alastor tutted, summoning his shadow to steady his rival, bending its lanky limb over his forehead. “My my, you sound awful! Simply dreadful! Overworked, perhaps? Or…oh, it couldn’t be! Is the King of Hell ill?”

“Oh shudt up Alasdtor– snff! I’b dot sigk! Idt’s jus’dt–”

“Allergies?” Husk deadpanned, expression completely unimpressed.

“Allergies!” Lucifer blurted, “Nodthin’ do worry your head over. So ihhh–...hih! hit’TSCHIU! HET’CHHHIEWW! Nghh, jus’dt ledt be–”

Charlie’s grip tightened, other hand reaching for a napkin. “Don’t run! Please?”

The King of Hell froze. He couldn’t help it. He was completely powerless when it came to his little girl. His flush started to hem the edges of silverware and dusted the windows, and he decided to look anywhere but at Charlie, distracting himself with a mucky nose blow into the makeshift tissue.

“I…I guess I’ll stick around a while longer. I feel a bit dizzy, anyway.” He chuckled, trying to pretend like every word didn’t painfully scrape at his chest. But Charlie smiled brightly, and she guided him to a chair Vaggie had already pulled out for him. Stepping back to wave her hands. Go on!

Lucifer blinked back shock when the room watched, silent with bated breath. “Oh– snff! Oh, well. Um. It’s not an emergency but. But I may be thirsty–”

Zipping back and forth, Niffty slid a cup of water by his side.

“Oh! Th-thank you.” Lucifer smiled bashfully. 

The silenced thickened, group looking on expectantly. 

“...More?!”

“More.” Charlie nodded, crossing her arms. Awestruck, the hermit crumbled as his closest residents and friends fussed and fretted. All the while Alastor sat comfortably in his chair and sipped his tea, humming to the tune of a new morning.

The perfectly chaotic puzzle was complete. Just the way he liked it.

[miko32]

Born into the Seven Ruler's of Devildom

I was isekai'd to a world in a book. The title was "Kristin in the Harem of the Seven Demon Lords." Like its title, a human named Kristin was brought to Devildom against her will and had to survive through the temptation of the seven demon lords, who were brothers and avatars of the seven sins.

The seventh brother, Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

The sixth brother, Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.

The fifth brother, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust.

The fourth brother, Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.

The third brother, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy.

The second brother, Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.

The first brother, Lucifer, the fallen angel, the Avatar of Pride. My father. The one who succeeded in seducing the human Kristin and impregnating her.

I was in shambles with the ending. Lucifer had kicked Kristin out, banished to the swamp and died giving birth. The baby survived and was named Leilel by Kristin, and that baby is me.

I'm Leilel Morningstar, the child of Lucifer Morningstar.

Chapter List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 --- Mephistopheles

The next morning, I arrived at RAD in early morning night. There were no students around at this hour. I hurried through the RAD courtyard and into the hallways, careful not to seen. I'd rather not become a target on the first day, at least not until I had that demon in my hand.

Mephistopheles was a minor character in the book, one of the noble demons known in the Noble House of Lords. The book mentions that Mephisto hates Lucifer for being the reason he became Diavolo's ex-best friend, but Mephisto is still loyal to the prince.

He's the perfect demon to be my sponsor. He hates the seven brothers but remains loyal to the crown. Having him as my protector will guarantee safety while I'm at RAD, at least until I get permission to go to the human world.

I hid behind one of the pillars. Across from me was the door to the RAD newspaper office, where I heard arguments from inside.

"I told you, we need to make a decision now!"

"We can’t! Remember the last accident! Lucifer will hang us in front of the school gate!"

"ENOUGH!" A demon shouted so loudly that the hallway shook. I closed my eyes at the shock. "We're running out of time. Let's go and deal with this LATER!"

The door burst open, revealing a demon with shockingly purple hair, green eyes, and a tall, elegant figure.

Wow. The novel doesn't describe much, but it mentions his eggplant hair that the brothers (especially Mammon) like to joke about. He's quite handsome. Man with tan skin are totally my type.

"Get out! All of you incompetents!"

A group of demons walked out with scowls on their faces. I wondered what they were fighting about. I waited until they were gone so I could have some alone time with Mephisto. But before I could even reveal myself, Mephistopheles shouted.

"You! Low-born demon! Reveal yourself, right this instant!"

I gape and did as he told, bowing my head. "Good evening, Lord Mephistopheles."

The demon scowled, hands on his hips. "Hmp! At least you have some manners. What do you want?"

I kept my head down. "I want to sell important information."

Mephistopheles's eyes widened, and he laughed. "Hah hah! You? A demon from the swamp? Not to mention a baby demon like you." He thumped his cane as he walked with a menacing stride, my back against a pillar. "What could a demon like you possibly have that I need?"

I clenched my hand at my side. "I-if I tell you, you have to make me a member of the RAD newspaper as your secretive informant."

Mephisto rolled his eyes. "I already have my own informant. What makes you different?"

Because they didn't read the book about this world. I smiled, hand over my mouth as I whispered to him. "Cerberus Breeding."

Mephistopheles's body stiffened, eyes widening.

"I know where it is."

Suddenly, I was pushed up against the pillar, the demon's hand on my shoulder, grabbing it tightly. I yelp as Mephisto shout to my face. "How would you know this?! Unless you are one of the demons opposed to Lord Diavolo and part of the operation!"

"What?! Are you kidding me?!" I shouted back out of fear. Mephisto gritted his teeth as I fought back. "I happen to be a standby demon in the swamp who knows valuable information, and I could give it all to the RAD newspaper if you give me this one chance!"

The demon stared at me with a menacing glare. I felt my body shiver in fear, my breaths heavy. All of my courage had run out. Then he suddenly released me. My feet drop to the ground. I watch as he pulled off his glove that touched me and tossed it, as if it was dirty. I glared at the gloves.

He offered his naked hand. "Let's make a demon bet, shall we? If your information is correct, I shall agree to your offer and let you be an official RAD newspaper student."

Oh. I stared at his hand and looked up. "Don’t you want to know what I want?"

"I don’t care what you want," the demon said, an evil smile upon his lips. "All I care about is proving you wrong and accusing you as one of the rebellion."

My heart dropped, fear settling in. I hesitated. Mephistopheles smirked as it showed all over my face.

Demon.

I pursed my lips. I did have this knowledge from the novel, even the things the Seven Lords don't know. Everything had been right, so why wouldn’t this?

I decided to believe in the book and myself. I took his hand. "Deal!"

A purple glow emanated from both of our wrists. It sent shockwaves through me. I winced, but the demon gripped his hold on me. A hot energy surrounded my wrist. Something was engraved on our wrists. It was like being tattooed on my skin. Mephisto's mark engraved on my wrist. When it was done, he let go.

"Now," Mephisto pulled out another pair of gloves. I stared, confused. "You should go to the colosseum for the opening ceremony." He turned his back and walked away. He glanced over his shoulder, green eyes glinting. "Hope to see you there, Lami."

I gulped down my throat, keeping myself straight until he turned a corner. I fell down, my back against the pillars.

"Haaaahhh... I hate demons..." I wrapped myself around, calming down before going to the colosseum.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The students of RAD had gathered around the colosseum for an announcement. A stage paced under the dragon statue. Then a demon with a butler style and green hair stepped onto the stage first.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present our future king, crown prince of Devildom, Lord Diavolo,"

Another tall, giant demon wearing a red RAD uniform followed him. His eyes were an unnatural gold that could astound anyone. Diavolo, the crown prince of Devildom, had a small smile as he waved to his subjects.

From the novel, Kristin mentions he has a child-like side. But behind those acts, were malicious intentions.

There's this scene where Kristin was killed by Belphegor, accidentally. Plot twist, Kristin was generated back to life by an angel, a guardian angel who protects Kristin's family line. But Diavolo was the one behind it all. He knew about the angel and wanted to see how powerful Kristin is. After the traumatic event, Lucifer comes to Kristin’s comfort. It was then she let Lucifer take her body and soul willingly.

Speaking of the demon, Lucifer was by Diavolo's side. As the man known as God’s favorite, he is indeed beautiful.

I stayed at the far back of the crowd, glaring at him. Bastard father.

Diavolo took center stage, his loud, fierce voice booming. "Good morning, Students of the Royal Academy of Diavolo!!!"

I had to close my ears because of his voice, and he did it without a microphone.

"I am so happy! To begin our next year, here at RAD!" the students cheered, Diavolo raised his hands. "I hope you are ready, the Seven Brothers and I had so many events and plans we had prepared especially for all students of RAD to enjoy!"

Everyone clapped, and in the corner of my eye, I spotted Mephistopheles rolling his eyes. He must've been upset because he's not included in the plan. That is what was mention from the novel.

"The first event for this year is a program we had shut down a long time ago. Thirteen years ago, we had an established program, an exchange program. The program involved an exchange student from the human world," Diavolo continued,

What?!

My heart skipped a beat. He's talking about the novel, Kristin!

"It was a successful program as we learned more about the humans and established a good relationship with them."

Is he really talking about THAT exchange program?! Oh no, where is he going with this?

"It was more than that; we made a bond." Diavolo fell silent for a moment. "But after that, an incident happened, and the program was stopped. Delayed, forgotten. Now, I want to bring the program back!"

I gasped; if Diavolo is bringing back the program, that means…

"And that is why we have invited two new humans," Diavolo gestured for them to come forward.

Lucifer appeared with a boy behind him, and his brother Mammon brought a girl. I watched as they stood there, seeming almost like slaves. There were no chains, and they wore the RAD uniform. Their faces were pale and uneasy.

Both the boy and girl stepped forward beside Diavolo. He had that welcoming smile described in the novel, but I could sense evil intentions behind it.

"Please welcome the new exchange students from the human realm!"

WHAT THE FUCK?!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL) M4A1, M4 SOPMOD II, ST AR-15, and M16A1's S/O reacting to their dresses

Okay they look pretty and everything but what in the hell is STAR's dress? I can accept robot waifu PMC's, but gun dresses push it.

M4 nervously taps her finger against the back of her hand as she approaches S/O during the party.

The tapping gets faster when she sees their pupils dilate as she arrives.

(M4A1) "H-Hello, S/O. Is the party alright so far?"

(S/O) "Much better now that you're here."

She lets out an adorable squeak before quickly clearing her throat as her face continues to burn up.

M4 wasn't confident in her appearance but S/O's reaction started to let her relax more.

Everytime she sees her S/O looking at her with a smile, she can't help but smile as well, slightly adjusting her dress in the process.

In the dress she couldn't help but feel a bit more proper than before.

(SOPMOD) "Heya, S/O! Check me out!"

SOPMOD energetically tugs their shirt and poses as soon as they look.

(SOPMOD) "So, whatcha think? I look great, don't I?"

(S/O) "Hah, you sure do. The dress brings out your eyes very well."

(SOPMOD) "Wha- That's it? No, 'You're super beautiful' or jaw dropping?! I put a lot of work into this dress!"

(S/O) "..."

(SOPMOD) "...Okay, I had help from Miss Kalina, but still!"

She keeps trying to show off for her S/O whenever they're looking, which never fails to get a giggle or a blush from them. Which accomplishes her mission!

SOPMOD doesn't feel too embarrassed by the dress, and would happily wear it again for S/O given the proper occassion!

Which is honestly anytime they ask. She doesn't particularly care.

STAR's face becomes a gentle smile when she sees S/O surprised expression.

She can't help but feel a little shy, having their full attention like this.

(ST AR-15) "H-Hey..."

(S/O) "STAR! The dress is quite beauti-..."

S/O's expression of awe turns into one of great confusion. Something STAR picked up immediately.

(ST AR-15) "What's wrong?"

(S/O) "Are...Are those rifles around your dress?"

Her flustered expression suddenly melts away into mild annoyance.

(ST AR-15) "...Too much?"

(S/O) "Just a little."

(ST AR-15) "Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have let SOPMOD add these things!"

(S/O) "If it helps, I still think you look beautiful."

STAR lets out a sigh but ends up smiling a little.

(ST AR-15) "It does help."

Unsurprisingly, M1 is by the bar, sipping on the wine and chatting with other T-Dolls.

When she sees her S/O arrive, she gets a second glass and hands it to them.

(M16A1) "What's up, need a drink too?"

(S/O) "Just wanted to see if you actually got dressed for this party."

(M16A1) "Come on, do you think I'm some kind of animal? Besides, I think I can look sexy in a dress."

(S/O) "That you do my dear, that you do."

Softly tapping both their glasses of wine together, she snakes her free arm around theirs, her cane resting next to her leg as she takes a sigh of satisfaction.

(S/O) "...By the way, how is the hat staying on you like that?"

(M16A1) "Oh good, that's not just me getting drunk. Yeah, I have no idea how it's doing that."

M1 doesn't feel embarassed by her dress, in fact its quite the opposite. Her ego goes up ten times in the dress, as long as it's in public.

If her S/O is staring at her wearing it in private, she becomes much more shy.

[the-radio-demon-blog]

*steps away with a slightly giddy look*

Ah! Where are my manners?

I sincerely apologize if I made you uncomfortable. *eyes the strange look, slightly worried* Are you sure you aren’t afraid of physical touch? Never mind ignore that *under breath* wouldn’t wanna get killed.

*normal voice* However, I am truly grateful! Now…what order shall I follow first?

Rampage the Vees?

Capture Vox so you may kill him…permanently?

Or perhaps…tear sinners that looked at you the wrong way apart limb by limb?

I wouldn’t be opposed to much! I do have a terrible bloodlust *smiles, slightly maniacally*. It’s like it can never be satisfied! Haha!

Name what you want from me.

I’ll have it done quickly.

*patiently waits for a possible order and to be excused, hands behind back*

Don't you worry, darling! I don't get uncomfortable. Its not in my nature.

Yes...we wouldn't want you to get killed, would we? Alastor tilts their chin up with one slender finger. You're far more useful alive than dead. I do have your soul, after all, don't I, dear? Hah!

He steps away from them with a thoughtful expression on his face. Hmm...let's test you, shall we? Alastor grins at them.

Since you are so eagerly bloodthirsty...how about I give you a task...quite a simply messy task? He flips his radio cane in his hand as he studies you.

Alastor leans in to whisper in their ear. Bring me, Valentino. Alive. I doesn't quite matter if you don't have exactly all of him. Just make sure to bring all his limbs. He taps them on the nose. Just get the job done.

Understood, dear?

Alastor walks slowly away down the hall. I shall be in my radio tower awaiting your return, dear!

[grandma-susan]

❓️

Does my muse trust yours?   

"What do you think I was born yesterday? You can trust certain demons with certain things that's it. It ain't that different from life. Alastor is one of those demons. He's good at what he does, and is man of habit to a certain extent and that means you can trust he's always scheming something and packing that back pocket of his. At the same time you can also trust he'll put on a decent show and is one hell of a time to tease if you get him on a good day."

Does my muse dislike yours?

"I think he's a boastful two faced buck with an ego to match. And his drinking habits kills the prim and proper gent he likes to put on, and turns him into a sopping wet blotto that you could throw and he'd be a 6foot Molotov. "

Would my muse kill someone for yours?

"And what and hurt his pride? I'd be hearing static and elk screeching for weeks."

Would my muse kill your muse?

"No, he doesn't look like he'd tastes good."

Would my muse save yours? 

Susan lets out an exaggerated sigh, "What's with these damn questions about me saving people????? You got your own god damn alliances and lackeys what do you need me to save your arse for?" Susan if he were drop on your doorstep half dead would you?

>: ( "Well I ain't gonna eat him!" So that's a yes? "I don't want him messing up my porch!" So you'd fix him up? "I'D FEED HIM TO LEWIS!!!!"

Th-The monster under the shed? "DID I STUTTER?"

Does my muse find your muse attractive? 

"No. His silhouette is fine, its his damn color scheme, his pinstripes, and the tacky rips he purposefully keeps in his jacket even though he goes to the tailor! The only thing he has going for him is his singing voice and his witty come backs and his confidence but even then its also bloated.....As he said so himself. His face was made for radio!" Susan does think he probably looked rather charming when he was alive, but not dead.

Is my muse disgusted by yours? 

"No he cleans up after himself."

would my muse go on a date with your muse?  

"Now why would he, when he has Rosie, Husker, Niffty and all the other people he talks to on a regular basis?"

would my muse kiss yours?  

"Hahahah!" She would if it meant it would cause a funny reaction from him.

would my muse betray yours?   

Flips through a random notebook, "No, no I don't see a written alliance or promise between him and me. So what's there to betray?"

my muse’s favorite thing about yours is ____

"Its funny when he walks around and he flips through the radio stations and you can hear the the notes drifting off of him like cologne."

the thing my muse dislikes about yours is_____ "The way he laughs, his HA! HAH! HAAA! Sometimes makes me want to shove my cane into his teeth. The amount of liquor he drinks. Stick a tap in him and he'd supply enough booze for a whole decade or two."

[my-own-walker]

Hi! Please could you write an angst about reader taking care of Kit Walker after a caning punishment? Thank you v much!

I'm Always Gonna Be Where You Are

note: i think i've used this gif before...idk tho. thanks 4 tha request!

warnings: angst, mentions of death, violence

+++

637 days in.

I was beginning to think I would spend more days in than I had out. Before I was brought in. Before my whole life was thrown away. Before I became an ornament on the asylum's cold stone walls.

I found solace in the people around me. The people who understood. One Kit Walker stood out as someone I could say anything to. I would have done anything for him. I would have walked backward off a cliff while blindfolded for him if he asked.

He was, similarly to me, wrongfully locked in Briarcliff for a misunderstanding. I was thoroughly convinced of his innocence. And I knew for a fact that even if he did do it, and was a narcissistic manipulator and pathological liar, I'd still love him.

I never told him, though, 637 days into my stay, I still hadn't told him. 637 days into my imprisonment, I found out my mother died. 637 days in, the person who had wrongfully locked me in, the only person who could get me out, my only family, was dead.

The news came abruptly from Sister Jude. A nonchalant delivery of the most devastating news I had ever heard. An addendum to the barking of orders.

'LIGHTS OUT! Oh, and your mother's dead.'

An exaggeration of events, for sure. Nonetheless, it felt just as cruel. Soulless. I was subhuman to the individuals that ran the place.

On day 638, I met Kit in the common room in the morning, collapsing into a quiet fit of sobs in his arms. Any louder, and I would have been restrained and sedated. I wasn't mourning my mother. I was mourning my freedom. The prospect of my release.

Kit held me close, sitting next to me on one of the many sofas in the room. The upholstered fabric scratched into my arm any time I brushed against it. Another reminder that comfort was not a right, but a luxury here.

He just held me as I cried.

'I will get us out of here,' Kit muttered into my ear. 'Whatever it takes.'

His optimism and drive were two of the reasons I kept him so close. He possessed two things I had lost very early on in my institutionalization.

The couch shifted in pressure. Someone had sat on the other side of me. I didn't even care to look up.

'Not now, Spivey,' Kit gritted.

'We could go halfsies on hah,' Spivey taunted. 'She's quite a doll.'

'Don't be fucking disgusting,' Kit muttered.

I lifted my head from its cozy spot nestled in Kit's chest and grimaced as I felt just how close Spivey was sitting next to me. To my abject horror, I watched as the man unbuttoned his pants and began to reach his hand inside.

It all happened so fast. Kit sprang from my side and grabbed Spivey by his collar, bringing him to his feet pathetically. The pervert's hand was still in his pants when Kit slammed him back down to the ground. A sickening thud cracked through the space. Silence filled the room, then the sounds of the other patients getting rowdy. Two orderlies dressed in white rushed onto the scene, restraining Kit and administering a dose of something via syringe into his arm. He was dragged away without a struggle into the hallway.

I didn't even have time to react in the slightest. I sat perched on the edge of the sofa Kit and I had shared just minutes ago, staring at the door Kit just disappeared through, tears threatening to fall once again. I sat there numbly for the rest of common room time.

When they ushered us back to our rooms, or cells, more like, my eyes darted around to find the boy who came to my rescue twice in one day. Moving through the front lobby toward the cells, I looked up the stairs toward Sister Jude's office. I watched as Kit was shoved out of the door, bound by his hands, a look of anguish on his face. His punishment was through, and it was all for me.

+

I laid awake, my soul wracked with guilt after lights-out. I couldn't bear thinking about the pain Kit must have been in. All because of me.

Briarcliff was a funny place. It was old. There were tons of ways around the run-down, disgusting corridors. One funny thing I found was a way to get out of the rooms. As long as you weren't restrained, a simple clothes hanger, hairpin, or matchstick could be enough to unlock the door from the inside.

Unlatching the lock, I was careful to not make any revealing sounds that would indicate my escape. I tiptoed carefully through the halls toward Kit's room. This was a routine of ours. I would regularly meet him in his cell after hours.

I peered through the window in his door. He was lying on his side on his bed, hands still bound behind him. I couldn't see his face to make out his expression. The bed's blankets weren't even covering him.

'Kit!' I whisper-yelled. His head shifted slightly.

'Y/N?' he groaned.

'I'm gonna come in, is that okay?' I replied.

'I've never wanted you here more.'

I jimmied the lock and opened the door slowly. It closed behind me with a tiny click. His hands twitched slightly as I worked to remove the straps keeping them together. He had leather burns on his wrists. His hands were cold from lack of circulation. As soon as I broke them free and Kit was turned to lay on his back, I held them close to my chest to warm them up.

Kit's face contorted in pain. He shifted uncomfortably in his bed. Being on his back caused him pain. I silently kicked myself for not remembering the punishment he was dealt earlier.

'Oh, sorry Kit,' I muttered, standing up to allow him to shift himself to a more comfortable position.

'They smacked the shit out of me this time,' he laughed sardonically. I returned to my seat next to him on the bed once he had moved. I ran my hand through his hair, curling the light, soft tresses in my fingers. The strands bounced back into position so delicately. It felt like a metaphor for his humanity.

I leaned down to gently kiss his forehead. He looked up at me with his deep brown eyes, his velvet gaze embracing my soul.

'I love you, Y/N,' Kit purred.

'I love you more,' I replied. I lay in the small bed, in front of Kit's form, inviting him to hug me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in closer.

'You're all I needed. Just you with me,' he murmured.

'Where I'll always be,' I sighed.

+++

Le fin, or whateva.

[infinitethree]

As Daz is reeling from that revelation and Aster turns ashen, the world around them…changes.

Colors all blur together and then kind of just– melt, streaking down into nothingness and leaving behind only black. The furniture suffers the same fate, along with the walls, ceiling, and floor.

As much as he loathes Aster, Daz isn’t so stupid or petty that he’s not going to scramble over to him. Aster withdraws his axe, obviously on high alert despite them not being able to see anything.

There does seem to be a floor of some sort, but it’s not something that looks any different than the rest of the inky, Void-like…void.

Neither of them say anything. Daz is close enough that their sides are touching, his daggers in hand. He’s facing the other way to scan for anything that might sneak up behind them.

Everything is that disturbing, eerie kind of quiet. A quiet so absolute that your brain screams that something is wrong.

The only sounds are their breathing and the shifting of their clothes. They all sound like gunshots amidst the lack of even subtle ambient noises.

And then, in a split second, everything changes.

They find themselves standing in what looks like an old-fashioned theatre. The giant red velvet curtains are drawn and the overhead lights are off.

Daz realizes they’re in the middle of the aisle of seats. A plush red rug stretches from about 10 feet away from the stage back off into the far distance. The rows of seats stretch along with it…and off to sides, as well.

It feels like the majority of this place is just seating.

Something moves, and Daz snaps his head to look at it.

Whatever it is, it isn’t anything he’s seen before. Two of some kind of bizarre, blob-like creatures sit in what seem like VIP seats. They wobble like Jello as they…maybe? Watch him back.

There’s more of them scattered around, including more in that section, but none are as distinct as those two– some are barely more than shadows.

Suddenly, from above, there’s a giggle. “Don’t mind them, they’re just representations of the audience!”

He takes several steps back to put distance between himself and whatever just spoke.

Floating above their heads in an absurd ringmaster-esque costume and smiling, Daz had to take a moment to wrap his head around their appearance.

Their head looks like a flat-screen monitor, with a simple and pixelated animating ‘face’. Said animation looks like a very rudimentary GIF of blinking. Six phone-sized screens circle their head, displaying what seem like random emojis.

They giggle again. “Oh my god, the look on your faces! Hah– this is definitely worth the hassle. Although…”

Well, their ‘face’ seems to update when they talk. It’s not in sync, though.

The entity hums to themself. “Yeah, nah, this won’t do.”

They withdraw a round-top cane. It suddenly extends and reaches to tap on Daz’s head.

And then Innit is there.

It stares at them with wide eyes, and then looks up at the entity. After a long moment, it gets to its feet and bows.

“You’re– you’re the Showrunner, right? Not the Scribe.”

A sound like the correct answer in a gameshow plays. “Yeah! Hell-o, my favorite little metaphor!”

The…Showrunner, evidently, settles down on the ground and reaches out to squish Innit’s cheeks together. “Awww, look at you! You’re so smart and unexpected!”

Innit seems to be in shock, which makes three of them.

Aster recovers first. “So, if you’re the Showrunner, then– where is the Scribe? And what do you do?”

The Showrunner blows a raspberry and rolls their eyes. “I borrowed Scribs’ name for reasons. It was always me!”

Daz is able to gather himself enough to ask, “So– you’re Time?”

They laugh, bright and uproarious. Finally letting go of Innit, they turn to face him.

Their smile isn’t terribly kind or fond as they tell him, “Time was just a sock puppet for Scribs. A useful tool and nothing more. It’s really just a name and some divine pressure, there’s not much else there.”

He laughs shakily. “So– we weren’t chosen on a whim. You just…have been toying with us all along…?”

“Yes! See, despite what an miserable little cunt you are, you are clever enough that dealing with you is sometimes worth it,” The Showrunner confirms.

There’s only one thing to ask, then. “Why? Why do you care so much about us? Not just Sanctuary, but– the people you have rescued?”

The Showrunner starts laughing.

Again, it’s not nice or kind, but instead manic. Almost malicious; something that screams that this entity is not someone that can be reasoned with if he makes a wrong step.

Their expression, despite its lack of fidelity, is borderline unhinged as they giggle, “You haven’t earned that answer!”

Daz shudders, then jumps as Innit speaks again. “How do we earn it, then?”

The Showrunner reaches down– they’re absurdly tall, easily clearly eight feet– and pats its head. “Figure more secrets out, little monster. Figure them out on your own and you won’t have to share what you learn.”

Despite how unhinged this divine being is, Innit smiles warmly up at it. “Thanks for the hint. I’ll make you proud.”

“Aww, you’re adorable.”

From his side, Aster asks quietly, “...When do I know when I’ve earned the– the wish?”

In between blinks, the deity stands in front of him and has its screen-face barely an inch from his. This close, Daz can hear a faint, electronic buzzing.

“Depends. What d’you want to use it on?”

Aster, tense as a strung bow and as rigid as a netherite sword, tells them, “I haven’t decided yet. But if– if it’s not going to be for a while, I can rule some things out.”

The traitor’s eyes flick over to Innit, and resentment burns in Daz’s chest. After ripping his past open and destroying his plans, Aster wants to use this– this impossible fucking thing on Innit?!

Grin wide, The Showrunner tells him, “For that, I might be willing to…be a bit more lenient. You might have to see the things you least want to see, and agree to do that, but, well…I’m not completely heartless.”

Aster’s expression conveys how little he likes that condition.

“Oh, and it won’t make it end. It ends when I decide it’s not fun any more. Talk it over with your little group first. You never know– you might have some clever bastards decide to step in and make that unnecessary.”

Yeah, no, Daz can read the implication there. He’s being threatened to cooperate, and probably helm, Innit getting a body…or else the wish paid for by his past and future will be given to another.

The Showrunner laughs a little. “Alright, alright. That’s enough fun for one of the lowest rungs of secrets. I’ve given you plenty.”

Their surroundings melt away until only the Showrunner’s backlit smile remains. “So entertain me more by figuring the rest out, yeah? You haven’t even scratched the surface of the truth.”

[m4xedout]

One Fin Wonder

Welcome to one fin wonder! This is the first chapter of this series!

content warning!: swearing? Mentions of blood, homeless child, reader is 14-15!

Okay..here we go!

Well then!- you didn't order a wake up call...literally..

"..y/n?" Oh its Sam! Wonder if we'll hang out today-

"I'm moving."

.

What?

Oh shit.

Holy shit no no no.

Sam was the only friend you could go to- THE ONLY PERSON YOU KNEW IF THIS BLOODY TOWN.

Whew..okay.,calm down..maybe it's a joke...Sam jokes alot so it has to be!

"Ahah..haha..hah.. g-good one Sam " you laughed, trying to make it seem like you weren't about to cry.

"What?..what do you mean 'good one's? nothing about this is good y/n!" "Okay! I'm sorry..I thought you were joking.."

Well shit.

"Okay..well?" "I- I'm sorry I have to pack." -beep!-

...

Well this isn't how you thought your summer would start.

Okay well! Time to go search for a job!!..again

You started walking towards the old lady who had always had you help with her cats, you were glad to help, but today was payday! Of 20 dollars but- you could get some food with that!

"Hello Candice! How are the kitties?" The old lady turned around to see you and smiled "oh hello lovey! Goodness you're getting tall heheh, we-well here's your 20 dollars dearie" she handed it to you and before you walked away "buy yourself something to eat sugar!"

"I will think you miss Candi-" and then you bumped into someone

"Shit sorry! My bad" you help the old man up and grab his weird looking cane..

"No no child forgive me, I was just looking at the kittens, you must be working here is that it?" He spoke with a harsh voice, refering to the old lady's shop.

"Oh no! Im just a helper, that's all"

"Helper?..yes..you will do good child"..ew.

"Yeah..aheh.. I gotta go sorry about the bump sir!" You speed walked away and could feel his eyes staring at you from afar.

You end up at some fish shop and see a help wanted poster in the window

"Nice!" You whisper to yourself as you walk in

"Hello there!" Said a woman from behind the counter on the right "be right with you"

You stand there and see all the little fishies swimming about

"Okay love what can i help you with?" "Oh I'm here for the help wanted?"

Her eyes lit up, must be hard working in a fish shop alone

"Oh yes! Thank you! We'll get right to it!" "I-- wait- I don't have to sign anything?"

"Well it's not that hard to take care of fish love, just feed em and watch them swim about their sad little lives!" Heh funny

After she showed you around, she said she was gonna close up shop for the day before-

"Hey uh excuse me?" Oh? First customer!

"Yeah uh do you have a goldfish with one fin?"..one fin? Any other gold fish and he wants one with one fin?...okay

"Uh sir? We have plenty more gold fish with two fins-" "no I need one with one fin!"..

"Sir, please calm down or we'll have to ask you to leave" "okay yeah uh...just give me a goldfish..and hurry, please."

You went to get the gold fish and hand it to the man "here you are sir, a gold fish with two fins! Take care!" He payed you

"Shit let's hope so." and just like that he was gone.

"Weirdo" said the woman

"Maybe he needs it for..something? Art?" You said

"Yeah..anyways darling here's your pay" she hands you a check for 50 dollars

"I- OH MY GOD!" You damn near yelled

She looks at you with confusion as you let out a nervous laugh

"Sorry..I just didn't expect this much holy cow!" "You've done well for you first day on the job!" She pats you on the shoulder

"Now let's go before some other weirdo comes for a blue puffer fish!"

Later that evening you had went to look for a place to settle, when you couldn't find you decind to cross the towns, you went into an alley way and hurried because you didn't want to die in there.

Qnd you came out safely until some random woman wondered up to you qnd asked for you hands, you thought she was gonna rob you so you politely declined, you started to walk way

When you felt her hands grab you and pull you into the alley way.. fucker.

She shoves you against the wall and roughly grabbed your hands

Suddenly, a man in a white suit and cape, came down from the ceiling, and tossed the woman across the alley way, his fists were bloody, and dripping

You sat there, terrified, holy shit, this was how you were gonna die, oh my god.

The man spoke "hey kid you okay?" He sounded familiar?

"Uh..yeah.. just winded I think I'll be okay" "okay, you got a place to stay? Anywhere to go?"..."no"...

"Okay then come with me". He grabbed you hand as gently as he could as he had the feeling they'd be sore tomorrow

He led you in front of a flat, you walked to the front and turned around "hey man thanks-"..he was gone.

After you went in to apply, you promised you'd have more money to pay off the rent

It was a big flat honestly

Just a bed which was fixed pretty good, and a fridge with a couple of food left, you threw out the expired stuff, and layer down

You began to charge your phone and set an alarm.

"7:00"

Okay.

This was your life now.

This is your home.

Can't believe this all happend in one day.

but.

What were you gonna do about it?

You worked at a fish shop

••••••••••

Holy shit, omg YAY :D

just a big thanks to @80pairsofcrocs for the name, and the courage, they're honestly the best person I've met on this app, and I gotta say, I really do love you guys, it may not seem like much here but thank you, seriously <3

[teamplasmaofficial]

is your cane/staff/whatever it's classed as i gorgot, a good whackin' stick?

You gorgot? Hah! That’s quite funny.

My cane, aside from its decorative quality, functions exclusively as it’s intended. Physical violence is rarely the answer.

OOC:

biggest lie of the century. it’s a great whackin’ stick. Grunt not standing straight enough? WHACK. Pokémon not performing to his standards? WHACK. If you’ve read the manga i’m sure you’re well aware what else it’s good for beating the ever living shit out of! WHACK!

[revivemyreverie]

Chapter 13

Cane chokes in disbelief. 

Cane: B-but dad, you said you were going to stop the park festivities the moment we walked in-

Mayor Kappel: I did that so you wouldn’t complain as we walked here. Now let this old man enjoy some fun, and go do something on your own. 

Mayor Kappel: Now, as for the fine gentleman who invited me, Mr. Peterson, this is quite the event you’ve set up. 

Pat: Don’t hand me the credit, give it to the kid sewing this kite, and the one you said was carrying some old junk a few nights ago. 

Mayor Kappel: …I guess I should apologize to that child. After all, it looks like he’s made good use of that old merry-go-round. 

Pat: And the mini coaster too, I hope. He made that thing in under 3 days. 

Mayor Kappel: Did he now? Well, I might have to hire him as an architect when he’s older. He’d be a much better employee than the “designers” my nephew commissioned. 

Winston: Good luck with that. As far as I know, Zackery is going down a much more creative route. Just ask Madam Roostia about it! 

Winston: Actually, now that I mention it… where is she? 

Somewhere else, on the tallest building of the tiny village, a familiar matriarch stands upon the rooftop, umbrella in hand. 

?: It’s been a while since I’ve done this. But then again, no park get-together is perfect without the right weather! 

Quickly, she lifts her umbrella towards the sky. Like a sea being slashed in two, the clouds fade as a bright and blue sky spreads throughout the town. For the park-goers, they find themselves shocked to see such a clear sky. A wind picks up, and Gale’s kite goes flying. 

Winston: Waaa! Hold on tight to that kite! 

Gale: I got it! I got it!!

Other children, some with their own kites, head out on the field themselves to play around in the new-found sun. Finally finding a sense of calmness in this world of chaos, you and Grim share a smile. This is definitely a memory you’ll find yourself looking back on with happiness. 

Lotsie: So it sounds like your trip ended pretty well!

Winston: Oh, you had to be there to see it, Lotsie! It was like the ending to one of our plays; a perfect final! 

Lotsie: Maybe next time I’ll come by, a get-together in that old town sounds like something in a dream~.

Saturn: Ooh! Take me too! I gotta make up for not being able to go to my best buddy’s hometown.

Zackery: MUAHAHAHA! Everyone shall be invited to my totally evil town! Well, if my mom agrees to house more people in the orphanage, that is. 

Saturn: I’m sure she’ll let us, as long as none of us are on the police’s radar, right Pat?

Pat: Hah, Sure. 

The group all chuckles to Pat’s bluntness, before Lotsie gets up from his seat.

Lotsie: Looks like we lost track of time~. I gotta get to bed or else I might wake up late for class. 

Pat: Lotsie, wait–

Lotsie: Yes?

Pat:... Nevermind, I just had a question about classwork, it can wait.

Lotsie: If that's what you say! Just come by my class tomorrow and I’ll help you. You got me my stuff after all!

Lotsie leaves, allowing the younger students to chatter amongst each other. Pat, however, remains quiet as he ruminates on his own experience at the town.

...

Mayor Kappel: Sorry to bring you all that trouble, young one. I didn’t realize how stubborn I’ve been about this town until now. 

Mayor Kappel: But if you are who you say who you are, and mean what you truly say, then who am I to stop you? But please, if you really know my best friend’s son… send him back home. If not for my sake, then that old house. 

Pat: …I’ll make sure to. 

Mayor Kappel: Now get going, this party doesn’t look like its moving anywhere. 

Pat sneaks out of the hangout without a complaint from his underclassmen. Traveling through the now-sunny town, the 3rd year is surprised at how quickly he could find the house now. That, and how dilapidated it was.  Stepping onto the creaking patio, Pat inserted Lotsie’s key into the rusted handle. With a click, the door opens, revealing an even sadder image inside the house. Sheets laid upon several pieces of furniture, and items not covered were caked in a thick layer of dust. 

Pat: Jeez… if the sun didn’t come out today, I probably wouldn’t be able to find my way around this place…

As instructed by Lotsie’s request, Pat walked up to the second level of the house, past the hallway and into the last door: Lotsie’s room. Opening it revealed a mess worse than the house itself. Clothes and papers are thrown around the room, as if its owner was in a rush.  Despite his bravery beginning to waver, Pat pushed onwards towards the bed. Looking under, he pulled out the thing he left school for; the thing his best friend so dearly needed: A simple, metal pocket watch.  Looking over it, Pat noticed an odd engraving on its backing. Before further investigating, however, Pat’s eye caught the corner of a photo beneath the bed. Curiosity winning him over, the 3rd year plucked the picture from its place. 

Pat: …!

Shocked by the image, Pat quickly put the item back, before leaving the house, watch in hand.  Back at the dorm, as the first years chatted amongst each-other, Pat became lost in thought. 

Pat: Of course, I could just play it down to it being his father and them bearing similar appearances, or him getting his father’s hat as a keepsake, but it still makes no sense that the picture dated from almost 50 years ago.

Pat: Just… Why did the boy in the picture look like Lotsie..?

END

[applejongho]

im normal its only 100 (not because i also collect wooyoung and on occasion seonghwa and sometimes even san and whoever else i pull in albums)

i couldn't pick just one fav bc im normal ofc ofc these are my fav four right now im just obsessed or whatever

you're now contractually obligated to show me your fav jongho pcs rn 🔫

AJDKSKJFJWE SO MANY WOOS AND SEONGS 😭 you'll have to show me those too. Anyways

1) the moon/stars one, I kid u not, I see it for sale and I think of u every single time 😭 bc luna is moon in Spanish and u like celestial things and it's hongjoong so like. It's literally the luna PC and I'm so delighted to see that u own him and it's one of your favs. It's such a good one

2) I'm being so mentally ill the hanbok is so good 👍 wonderful choice

3) I'm blocking him from my sight. Oh my god. No further comments here.

Jk he's just. Yeah he's. Yeah I understand

It's a literal crime there are no guerrilla PCs w the cane like. haha . Like. hah. Haha. Haha. HAHA.

4) dude is a literal snowball and I love it.

and now for my delusions

idc that four out of the six are The Jongho Angle™ I personally adore the angle bc it's such a jongho thing and I love it so. 🤷‍♀️🥰

edit fun fact the blonde hair one, the back of it shows his shoe. literally just his shoe.

Edit: SHOE

luna 🤝 anne

so normal