#the older ones. so the first few batch of demons (which is probably when demons & humans coexisted tbh) probably only lived up to 300 years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-

Time for the Group Retreat!

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!

Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.

Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!

It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.

MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.

Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.

“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”

Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.

“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”

The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”

Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.

“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”

MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”

Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.

“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.

“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”

“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.

“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.

“What?”

“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”

“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”

There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...

Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!

The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.

The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.

MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.

Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.

So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.

Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.

All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.

Even as a baby...

Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.

“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”

Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.

“Quiet, Satan.”

————

“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”

“ITS HENRY 1.0!”

“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”

MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.

Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...

They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.

Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.

Yay! Parenting!

Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.

MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.

Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.

Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.

Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.

“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”

“Nope.”

“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”

It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.

Time for the Formal Dance~

If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.

“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”

“Nope! Why?”

MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!

So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.

Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.

“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”

“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”

“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.”

“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”

None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.

“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”

The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”

MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.

“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.

“You’re too young to dance.”

“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.

“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.

“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.

“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.

Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”

MC’s face was literally this: >:0

Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.

MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.

When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.

“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”

“Spit it out, Levi!”

“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”

“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”

“...”

“I MISSED THAT?!”

So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!

How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?

So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.

MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.

And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...

“Grrr...”

MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”

“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.

“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.

Ah! There he was!

“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”

Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”

A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.

“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”

Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.

“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”

“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”

“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.

So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.

Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.

Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.

Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.

Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.

Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.

So they uh... won the pillow fight.

MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.

They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.

He was there a minute ago... weird.

Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.

The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.

Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.

MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.

“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”

Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.

The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.

“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”

“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.

“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.

“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”

“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”

“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.

Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”

“Ah... makes sense...”

“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”

MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”

“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”

“Yogurt and fruit please!”

I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.

Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.

Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.

Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.

MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.

Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.

Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?

Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.

It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.

“Help me!”

MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.

Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.

“MC!”

Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.

“MC! I need help!”

The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.

The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.

They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.

MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…

Oh no.

MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.

What was their father doing up there?

He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-

The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.

What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.

MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.

Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.

If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.

“MC?”

Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Are you coming, or not?”

The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.

When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.

“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.

“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.

Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.

“Belphegor..?”

Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.

“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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An Attempted Timeline: Kochou Shinobu

Very open to feedback, because canon is as spread out as Muzan after his first date with Sun Breathing. Instead of tracking the year or distance from current timeline, we shall track this by Shinobu’s age (roughly, in most spots). Despite being centered around Shinobu’s life events, I’m also diving into Aoi’s life, the other Pillars’ timelines of life events too, and doing some conjecture about Shinobu’s deceased Tsuguko. Should be obvious, but spoilers ahead.

Childhood: Raised by kind parents who possessed medical knowledge. Sometime around elementary school age (at the oldest, I’d put her at 11, but probably younger), parents are killed by a demon, house is demolished, and she and Kanae are rescued by Himejima (who was maybe around 20 or younger at the time), who hands them off to the Kakushi. After the funeral for their parents, she and Kanae seek out Himejima for training, and after a little time with them he sends them to separate cultivators (according to the light novel chapter “One Winged Butterfly.”) Training under cultivators usually takes about a year. She and Kanae perhaps passed the Final Selection when Shinobu was around 12-ish, give or take. (For setting and comparison’s sake, Kagaya and Amane have long since already been married and Kiriya is already born.) Whether Kanae becomes a Pillar first or they establish the hospital at the Butterfly Mansion first is unclear, but these events happen relatively quickly. I suspect they might have had access to a lot of savings from their parents. Furthermore, this makes Kanae one of the many Pillars in the recent generation who blows that “it usually takes five years to become a Pillar” Taisho Secret away. (As an aside, maybe the reason the Corp as a whole seems to be full of weaklings is because the current Pillars have sucked up all the amazingness, but I digress.)

The Butterfly Mansion’s hospital was established long before Sanemi became a Pillar (according to the light novel chapter “Signpost of the Wind”). Sometime after Kanae becomes a Pillar, Sanemi becomes a Pillar. Giyuu was a Pillar before Sanemi was; the three of them were the same age. My guess is that Shinobu was around 13 when Kanae became a Pillar, putting Kanae and Sanemi around ages 15ish~17 when they would have had chances to interact. For comparison, Giyuu and Sabito were 13 at the time of the Final Selection, so Giyuu would had already been in the Corp longer than Kanae and Shinobu.

The following events either happened very quickly or unfolded over the course of a couple years:

Aoi (likely the the same age as Kanao) comes into their care (she preceded Kanao since she was there for Kanao’s naming, according to Taisho Secrets and second fanbook)*

Kanao (two years younger than Shinobu but much smaller, and given how petite Shinobu is, I can only assume this is because of how malnourished Kanao was) is adopted as their little sister on some May 19 (the anime seems to put the event in winter, but I assume it was already in production before the first fanbook was published with that detail)

Kanao has ample opportunity to observe Kanae’s Flower Breathing and learn by watching

Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho come into the fold (separately or all at once, though not as relatives)

Kanae is killed by Douma (Shinobu is age 14, one of the only pieces of this timeline we can be certain of). As she wished in her dying moments for Shinobu to live a normal life, she may or may not have had Shinobu as her Tsuguko, or had any Tsuguko at all.

Shinobu, age 14, becomes the head of the Butterfly Mansion household, where she already has five adoptive/pseudo younger sisters. At this point she takes on a cheerful personality, as well as probably set her heart on becoming a Pillar as soon as possible and becoming strong enough to defeat the demon that killed Kanae.

*Aoi’s circumstances are important (and curious) because the second fanbook tells us both that she practiced Water Breathing and that she passed the same Final Selection as Muichiro. Since Muichiro became a Pillar two months after taking up the sword, that means he went almost straight from sword to Final Selection to Pillar. We don’t know how much recovery time he needed after losing Yuichiro at age 11, because he wasn’t among the Pillars in the Rengoku Gaiden, so he perhaps only started practicing the sword closer to late 12 or age 13 (putting Aoi around 14, 15-ish when she passed the Final Selection, and presumably quit the sword right after that). It’s interesting to note what a different relationship Aoi has with Shinobu than Kanao does, especially since Aoi was there first but Kanao was adopted as a sister in a more all-encompassing sense. I suspect (and am putting this in italics for conjecture): Due to whatever circumstances with her Water Breath cultivator (possibly difficulty in housing a lone girl among a bunch of male students), Aoi needed to live elsewhere during her training. The Butterfly Mansion was a good spot, so Kanae and Shinobu agreed, like sponsoring a junior, and in exchange Aoi helped out around the house and hospital. Aoi kept her own last name, as she had her own family to avenge. When Kanao came in, it was purely out of wanting to help an orphan who wound up staying with them instead of being adopted out, which is why she was given a family identity and an opportunity to take the Kochou name if she wanted to (or even Aoi’s family name). They were probably treated differently because of the nature of how they came in and an assumption that Aoi would leave as soon as she entered the Corp. As Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi came in, it was a weird middle ground of whether they were just looked after until something better for them came along or if they were adopted as sisters as fully as Kanao was. Ultimately, they still retained a lot of their identities from before they were orphaned, and it was more of a pseudo-sisterhood, which Aoi had sort of fallen into as well. But, once Aoi entered the Corp and then quit the sword, she probably didn’t feel she could turn to her cultivator for any help, so at that point Shinobu took more full responsibility for her as a permanent household member.

Moving back on to Shinobu’s timeline, if I’m remembering the Giyuu Gaiden correctly (it’s been a while since I read it so I don’t recall exactly), that story took place shortly after Giyuu sent Tanjiro and Nezuko to Urokodaki, and it was also shortly after Shinobu became a Pillar. Since Tanjiro took two years to train after that, that would put her at age 16. Since Kanao joined the Corp in the same batch as Tanjiro, that means Shinobu would have had about two years between becoming a Pillar and taking Kanao as her official Tsuguko (I stress ‘official’ because it comes with distinction Tengen respects, it’s not casual “sure, I’ll look after you” thing). In that time, she had (at least) three other previous Tsuguko, all girls given butterfly hairpins, and who were all killed by demons in that two year period.

Conjecture about Shinobu and these Tsuguko:

Knowing how likely she is to be killed before she has an opportunity to avenge Kanae, Shinobu was likely in a hurry to train a Tsuguko and started trying to pass her knowledge on right away. It’s possible they were even closer in age to her than Kanao, maybe even older, and quite possibly physically stronger. It’s possible they were trained under Flower Breathing cultivators and still used that Breath, which would have given Kanao opportunities to learn by watching. That said, Shinobu doesn’t mention or think back to her Tsuguko often, and they never appear in Kanao’s flashbacks, though their deaths are some of the little pieces that strengthen her resolve to slay demons (she seems to care more about how her pseudo-sisters’ families were killed by them). My guess is that Shinobu made a clear divide between family and work, so as to protect the little girls from getting attached to more people who were likely to be taken away from them. Likely, her Tsuguko and the Butterfly Mansion girls resided in separate spaces and had very little interaction, and their Pillar/Tsuguko relationship was kept very formal so they could all focus on their demon slaying goals (albeit they were probably fond of each other anyway, signified by the butterfly hairpins).

In that two year period, the following events occur in roughly this order:

Rengoku become a Pillar (around age 18 or 19, and since he was raised practicing Flame Breathing he probably finished the Final Selection around age 12 or 13, so it clearly took him a more normal period of time to become a Pillar. But, despite being naturally gifted with strength his mother recognized, this drives home how hard he needed to work to overcome a perceived lack of “talent.”)

Iguro becomes a Pillar (around age 19 or 20, so he likely had worked at it a long time)

Aoi passes the Final Selection and quits the sword (thereby leaving Shinobu able to leave most of the hospital and household work to her since she’s no longer training), Muichirio becomes a Pillar (around age 12 or 13, genius-level speed at attaining Pillarhood)

Mitsuri becomes a Pillar (around age 18 or 19--a friend, yay! Also someone who became a Pillar way faster than normal.)

On these note, please also me to jump backwards a few years to when Kanae was still alive. Uzui had to have been a Pillar by at least age 18, but given the state of Ubuyashiki’s illness, probably a lot earlier than that, and he probably didn’t take very long to become a Pillar after entering the Corp. Since Giyuu was already a Pillar in Sanemi’s flashback, then he attained Pillarhood by, at the very oldest, age 17, so it took him four years or less. Interesting that in all these four or more years he’s been convinced the position is vacant, there’s no one else who performs Pillar-worthy achievement in the Corp’s most widely used Breath style. That really drives home the difference between the Pillars and the average cannon fodder. (Also worth noting, the Kamaboko Squad’s progression seems to fall somewhere in the middle; right to the very end the Taisho Secrets state how Tanjiro was still far from mastering Hinokami Kagura.)

At late 17 or age 18, two events occur:

Shinobu begins filling her body with poison for the sake of exacting revenge, knowing she will likely be eaten (she began about a year before the Pillar Training arc)

Kanao sneaks out to the Final Selection of her own will and with self-studied Flower Breathing, officially becomes a member of the Corp. Shinobu worries Kanao was just doing this because it’s what everyone around her does, as Kanao cannot express that she’s built her own hatred for demons.

Shinobu makes Kanao her Tsuguko almost right away, making the following changes (conjecture in italics):

Teaching her proper Breathing and sword technique (and the little girls witness her quick progress with blowing up gourds)

Instructing her very simply just to focus on cutting on demons’ heads so that she doesn’t get caught up in indecision on the battlefield

Censuring Kanao a bit for her choice to go against her sisters’ wishes and take up the sword, for now she risks death and giving the other pseudo-sisters yet another person to grieve. Given the risky nature of their work, Shinobu feels forced to treat her the same strict way she treated her Tsuguko instead of treat her as a sister. Kanao accepts this and goes from treating Shinobu as her sister to treating her as her master (calling her “Shihan” instead of “Shinobu-neesan”).

Over the course of the events of canon, Tanjiro and company spend a very large portion of their time in recovery at the Butterfly Mansion (even if a large portion of that time is spent unconscious), they might as well be pseudo-adoptive little brothers. But, I suspect Shinobu bonds more readily with girls. Also in that time, Kanao speeds up the ranks (she attains Hinoto rank, the 7th of 10 ranks, while Tanjiro & co attain the one above that, Hinoe). Furthermore, thanks to Tanjiro’s influence, Kanao also makes leap and bounds in being able to express herself, like something finally broke through. This at last leaves Shinobu somewhat relieved, after maybe five years or so since she first adopted Kanao. By that time she is getting anxious about the impending final battles (and her death, which she has deemed inevitable but purposeful), and she tells Kanao the plan. And then Oyakata-sama is like, “heeeey, so I heard you want to be friends with demons, I got you one, her name is Tamayo.” (It’s possible he already told her he was planning to get Tamayo’s help and wanted her cooperation, but he didn’t actually approach Tamayo about it until after Pillar Training started (though by Kimetsu logic, it’s highly possible that the crow talking to Tamayo took place much earlier than when it was presented). I gotta wonder how quickly they worked to combine their research and if the other girls in the mansion had any idea who Tamayo and Yushiro were.

And then, at age 18 (or likely 19 given the progression of the series and very lengthy recovery periods, heck maybe even 20), Douma. Shinobu dies, Kanao switches back to calling her Shinobu-neesan instead of Shihan, Kanae’s butterfly hairpin which Kanao wore breaks in battles, Shinobu exacts her revenge on Douma while her efforts against Muzan are also in motion and then she reunites with Kanae and her parents in spirit, and Kanao wears Shinobu’s butterfly hairpin in the final showdown and then she makes Shinobu the surprise hero in the surprise final battle to save Tanjiro. It was a really long night, and a really short, busy life.

#Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayers #Kocho Shinobu #Kochou Shinobu #KnY fandom theories and meta

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crystalas · 3 years

Text

Blazing Blue part 2

Chapter 2: So, it’s not a play date?

Pigsy was closing up shop when MK stuck his head around the door sheepishly.

“There you are! I was getting worried, did things with Monkey King run late or something?” he asked gruffly as he put away the last of the cooking pots for the day.

“Well, no…but I got held up by something…hey do we have any leftover noodles?” MK asked trying his best to be nonchalant, Pigsy glanced at him and gestured to the fridge.

“I know how hungry you get after your training sessions” Pigsy exclaimed, and raised an eyebrow at MK who was smiling a bit too broadly and looking…twitchy which was never a good sign. “Ok what is it?” he sighed.

“Well… I have a someone who needs to crash somewhere for a while so I was hoping…just for tonight?” MK said ever so sweetly and Pigsy face palmed.

“Ok I really don’t want to ask but I feel I need to, who is it?”

“…Red Son?”

Pigsy stared at him, gave a growl of frustration before rubbing the bridge of his snout to try and elevate the stress headache he can already feel coming on.

“Kid…times like this I really wish this wasn’t based on a children’s cartoon, because what I really want to say to that is not allowed for a kid audience!”

“Oh, but this is a fanfic written by an adult, who really needs to get out more.” MK offered.

“It is? Oh good” Pigsy took a deep breath and then said as calmly as possible “Fuck no!”

“Com’on, he’s is in a bit of a rough spot and needs somewhere to stay! We’re even truce buddies!”

“I never agreed to that term!” Red Son called from outside, MK reached out the door and dragged him in.

“He’s a demon? He is the son of one of your enemies? He tried to turn you into ash countless times? Need I continue to list reason why this is a bad idea??!” Pigsy shouted angrily.

“Look, I know where I’m not wanted, I shall take my leave!” Red Son growled and began to walk back out when MK grabbed his sleeve. “This is pointless he’s isn’t going to let me stay!”

“Damn right I’m not!” Pigsy retorted.

“Last time I checked I own the apartment above the noodle shop so really…” MK said slyly and Pigsy put a hand in front of his face.

“I rent it to you, so don’t even give me that nonsense that you have a say!”

“UGH fine!” MK growled and lead Red Son out of the Noodle shop, only for him to drag him behind the alleyway and use his staff to leap up to his apartment window, gesturing for Red Son to follow.

“You’re seriously going behind your friend’s back for me?” Red Son asked as he leapt up and through the window. MK walked in and started to tidy up the apartment to a more acceptable level of messy as Red Son looked around, last time he was in here he had burnt a lot of stuff. MK must have had to replace many belongings… so why was he this willing to help him?

“Pigsy just needs time to get to know you” MK explained as he got out a spare blanket and laid it out on the sofa. “Umm…is this, okay? I mean I’ve only got the one bed…”

“I may be a demon but even I have good manners when it comes to being a guest” Red Son declared loftily, besides he thought to himself as he sat down, I’ve been sleeping on the floor of our destroyed home for the last few weeks. This is heaven compared to that.

“Don’t worry we’ll find you somewhere tomorrow” MK said as he took off his jacket to get ready for bed and noticed that Red Son had not moved. “Umm…wanna take off your coat and get comfortable?”

Red Son gripped his coat and glanced away.

“Kind of hard to get comfortable in the home of an enemy…” he muttered.

“Now none of that! Remember we are Truce Buddies, I’m not so underhanded that I’d attack you in your sleep” MK declared confidently.

He might though MK suddenly thought to himself as it dawned on him that this could go wrong very quickly.

“Look, do you demons have anything to …I don’t know swear by? Because I’ve just realised this might be a long con or something to lure me into a false sense of security.” MK asked, Red Son sighed and looked up at him.

“It took you this long to think of that scenario? Noodle Boy are you really that naïve?” he demanded angrily but stood up anyway, “Normally I would have sworn on my family name but…given certain circumstances that’s not an option. So, I’ll swear on my flame that I will not do anything to intentionally endanger you or your friends so long as you swear on The Monkey Staff that you do the same!” he held out his hand and a small fire ball appeared and held out the other to shake with, MK took out his staff and took Red Son’s hand and shook it in agreement.

“Right, we are officially Truce Buddies!” MK beamed happily.

“I didn’t agree to that name!” Red Son snapped.

The next morning Tang walked in to grab his noodles for lunch, Pigsy was dicing up the vegetables to make the first batch for the day but had a fire extinguisher strapped to his back …and Red Son was sitting at a table looking grumpier than usual and also that he looked like he had fought a car wash and lost.

“Ok I feel like I missed something?” Tang declared.

“MK thought it would be a brilliant idea to sneak Demon Boy in for a sleep over, but didn’t take into consideration that fire alarms exist!” Pigsy exclaimed angrily “Now MK is on kitchen clean up duty for eternity for going behind my back and NEARLY SETTING FIRE TO MY BUILDING!!”

“In my defence” Red Son announced “I only sneezed.”

“I ain’t taking any chances Demon boy! You try anything and I’mma hosing you down!”

Tang sat down keeping Red Son in his peripherals and saw MK mopping the floor with an embarrassed look of defeat on his face.

“So, just to acknowledge the elephant in the room…why is Red Son here?” he asked gently.

“Because MK wanted a pet!”

“RED SON IS NO ONE’S PET!” Red Son shouted flaring up as he did so and got a face full of extinguisher foam in his face for his troubles. “WILL YOU STOP THAT??!”

“Okay…and the real reason MK?” Tang inquired as MK came out to mop up the foam for the third time that morning.

“We kind of have a Truce going on.” He said simply.

“That seems…fair I guess?”

“Yeah, well he can go home now cos I don’t want him here disturbing my business!” Pigsy growled and Red Son suddenly hunched over and glared at the wall angrily.

“If this is how you treat your patrons then maybe I’m not the problem!” he growled under this breath. Pigsy gave him a look and then turned back to his stove, he tried to turn it on but…nothing. He tried again and again for a few minutes but still nothing happened.

“Com’on! Com’on you piece of junk!” Pigsy muttered under his breath.

“I keep telling you need a new stove” Tang exclaimed.

“Last time I checked they don’t give them out for free! The freaking lighters are dead I’ll have to…” Pigsy said but stopped as a small fire ball flit past both of them and lit the stove top. They both spun around to see Red Son putting his hand down.

“Uhm…thanks?”

“Don’t read too much into it, I’m just hungry” he said quietly.

Pigsy shrugged and got to work and soon he brought out two bowls of noodle soup and placed one of them gingerly near Red Son, who took it and ate it quietly. After a few minutes Pigsy looked up to see Red Son smiling softly.

“What are you so happy about?” he demanded gruffly.

“Family recipe?” Red Son asked.

“Handed down through the generations. Why?” Pigsy replied cautiously.

“They remind me of this noodle stand I used to go to a lot when I was a child, it was my favourite place to eat back then. I suppose the taste makes me nostalgic” Red Son explained, Pigsy looked at him warily and then back at his photo wall.

“Pull the other one kid, my family started this business on a noodle stand but that belong to my great, great grandfather. You’re not even old enough to be around when this shop opened!”

“I’m a lot older than I look, don’t forget demons count their lifespans in decades not years…in fact if I remember correctly back then photographs were only just becoming a thing and I was there when they took the photo. The guy looked proud as anything of his little noodle stall”

Pigsy spun around and scanned his photo wall, and sure enough there was the photo that was handed down along with the recipes. It was tattered and faded over the years but it still showed the look of absolute pride that Noodle chief had of his livelihood not knowing of what a family business he was about to create. And in the background was a kid with flaming spikey hair sitting at the stall while holding a bowl.

“Wait…that’s you?!”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“And the flavour just as good as Great, Great Grand pappy’s?”

“Even better I’d say”

Tang slammed down his bowl and ran up to Red Son.

“WAIT A SECOND!” He cried in ecstatic glee “You’re immortal??!”

“No…demons can age and die we just live longer. Think of it as reverse dog years” Red Son said a bit put off by this sudden attention of the quiet book worm.

“Then you’ve must have seen a lot in your time!” Tang squealed “I bet you’ve even met some of the other legends throughout the ages!”

Red Son gave a cocky smile and gestured confidently.

“Why yes, I have, though I’ve never spoke to them I have seen many historical figures come and go not to mention the rise and fall of emperors and kings, to be honest it gets a bit boring after a while!” he declared smugly, now enjoying the fact that Tang was practically frothing at the mouth at the idea of questioning a being that probably lived through most of his text books.

“Have you met any of the sages…I mean besides Monkey King?” Tang asked eagerly Red Son’s cocky smile evaporated for a second and his hand wandered up to his neck before shrugging.

“I guess so, but I was very little when that happened…” he said dismissively.

“What were they like?” Tang kept on.

“… …scary” Red Son whispered. “I remember them being very scary.”

“Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that?”

“They were pompous jerks who picked on a little kid, whose only crime was being born okay??” he snapped angrily and stood up. MK who had been watching this from the kitchen walked up quickly to the angry demon before Pigsy had to get the fire extinguisher again.

“Ok maybe we should talk to Sandy about that problem now hey? Pigsy? can I take off now?” the three looked up at Pigsy who was still standing there with a look of blissful glee.

“Good as Great, Great Grand pappy’s” he sighed happily before snapping out of it. “Uh yeah sure seeing as Demon boy didn’t burn down my shop and helped out a little, I guess I can be lenient…but don’t try anything like this again got it??!”

MK saluted and Red Son wiped off the last of the foam from his hair as they left.

“So now what?” Red Son asked.

“We see if Sandy has a spare bed for you…hey were you serious about Pigsy’s family stall thing?”

“Like I said I had no need to lie about it.”

“And you’re seriously like…really, really old?”

“I’m still a child compared to others of my kind but yes”

“Why do you look human?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

“It’s just, except for your mom and you every other demon I met looked…I don’t know weird.”

“And seriously how often do we get to question a person like you? It’s like interviewing a keshin!” Tang interjected as he walked in between them causing both boys to leap out of their skins and glare at him.

“You will have to excuse me if I don’t want to expose all my family secrets in one sitting with the people who are considered my enemies!” Red Son growled; MK opened his mouth but before he could say anything Red Son held up a hand to him. “Yes, yes ‘Truce Buddies’ I know but just because I am on that agreement doesn’t mean my family is!”

“So, let’s hope we don’t run into Demon Bull King huh?” Tang declared. “Because that would be super awkward for all parties, wouldn’t it?”

“Trust me I doubt my father even notices…and wasn’t the whole point of this ‘Truce Buddies’ thing was to FORGET about my family and your mentor, to just enjoy the day, have fun or whatever happy go lucky idea you suggested?!” Red Son exclaimed angrily “Quizzing me on my family history seems to be a bit off the mark wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh right, right” MK mumbled and rubbed the back of his head.

“Wait…you two agreed to a play date?” Tang asked.

“ITS NOT A PLAY DATE!” both boys screamed in horror.

As they headed to Sandy’s ship MK was on his phone texting Mai.

“Okay so Mai knows what’s going on and she’s going to meet us at Sandy’s. Also, she’s bringing snacks and her favourite video games so she can … ‘Show red boy how to have a good time, hero style’…” he said as he read the text out. Red Son gave a weary sigh remembering that massive hero speech she had given him while they were getting the peach of immortality. Then to hint at his father with all the subtly of a cannon launched brick through a glass window that he had done “Good hero work” …it took him forever to get over that humiliation.

As he contemplated the fact, he now has to endure her company and she probably will take this “Truce Buddies” agreement as a sign that he is going to become a hero and won’t shut up about it, his train of thought was destroyed as something smacked him on the back sending him stumbling and nearly hitting the pavement.

“HEY!” he shouted looked back, fire ball in hand ready to roast whoever responsible. “HOW DARE YOU TRY TO TRIP UP RED SON??!” but no one was there to enact his rage on.

“You okay Red?” Tang asked.

“…fine I’m fine…must have tripped or something…” he growled. As they walked on, they didn’t see the shadows following them purple eyes grinning in the darkness.

“This got a lot more fun…” Macaque sniggered.

#spicynoodleshipping #red son #monkie kid red son #monkie kid macaque

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 4 years

Text

Summertime Story

Summary: The Lantern Night people had come to visit town! Fireworks, food stalls, festival games! Helping Mammon pay off his debt! Underneath this festive atmosphere a single wish blossoms in your heart,

“I want this moment to last forever...”

Based on the Summer Festival Event.

Rated: T for Teasing Mammon about outdoor sex ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Tags: Established Relationship, Too Much Love for Mammon, Yearning, Love Words are: Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, with a dash of Receiving Gifts, B-I-N-G-O.

The day had begun in a peaceful manner, and you were enjoying a rare moment to yourself in which Mammon was not particularly in need of your affection, in this case it meant that the two of you were just holding hands underneath the dining table and eating breakfast with one hand. It was peaceful precisely because Levi wasn’t making a fuss over it, Belphie and Satan wasn’t throwing an oil tanker to the fire and neither was Lucifer frowning over it.

Summer had come into Devildom and it was officially, a few months since you had been part of the Exchange Program, and a few months since forming a pact with Belphie. During that time, you had done your best to juggle time between the six of them and pursuing Mammon. It had been a rough time, since more often than not your chances either backfired or Mammon himself would end up ruining it. However with the power of love (lol) you were able to successfully confess your love with help from Levi and Asmo and now Mammon and you were going steady for a total of three weeks.

And now you were enjoying a breakfast “date” with Mammon, skillfully ignoring the other background characters (lol). You had been tuning out the conversation, focused on the rare karaage Mammon had brought home last night for you, when your ears had heard the words “casino” and “debt” come out from Mammon’s mouth.

“Eh? You went to a casino without me?” You blurted out.

Which caught the attention of the others. Asmo already had the teasing look on his face as he said, “How cute~ Hey! Mammon how does it feel like having a girlfriend that attached to you?”

“I-It’s not fair! I want someone to say that kind of thing to me too!” Levi whined.

“I love you so much!” Mammon blurted out with a red face, an apology of sorts for not bringing you out with him to play.

“Hehehe... you’re so easily pleased aren’t you?” Belphie teased you as you snuggled up and melted into Mammon’s warm embrace.

You opted to ignore him and instead told Mammon, “If you needed money, you should have come to me!”

“Oi! You understand he’s like that because you keep on spoiling him right?” Satan said, worried at how easily you spoiled his idiot older brother.

“?”

The look of confusion on your face easily told him that you had become an idiot for love. But a quick glance at Mammon rubbing your face together and intermittently kissing your face in different places made him realize you still, at the very least, had your IQ points.

“Tch! Both of your deserved each other” Satan grumbled as he looked away at the sickening display of affection.

“Anyways! Please help me out with the stall!” Mammon begged, “I can’t just use my wife’s money like that after all.”

“I’ll ignore what you just called our Master but sure I’ll help you out~” Asmo agreed.

“I’ll do the same” Beel added.

“Me too” Levi spoke through gritted teeth.

“In that case I’ll do the same and head out for the library to figure out what stall we should do” Satan replied and headed out.

“Well, it seems like you’re having fun so I’ll do the same.” Belphie said before finishing up his breakfast.

“It’s rare to see all of you this cooperative” Lucifer commented as he watched with wide eyed disbelief that his troublesome brothers were cooperating this smoothly.

“We all probably have ulterior motives though...” You replied, still snuggled in Mammon’s hold and now being fed by him.

“We?”

You hummed and addressed Lucifer’s unsaid question,”Yep. I just want to spend time with Mammon.”

Hearing this words only invigorated Mammon’s love for you further and made Lucifer torn between exasperation and fondness for your love of Mammon.

After the brainstorming session on the library, the whole lot of you with the exception of Lucifer started to practice making Candy Apples.

Carefully following Satan's instructions Belphie and you poured the sugar into the dyed water carefully. All of you watched in fascination as the sugar melted into the water.

"Hehe this feels like we're about to make poisoned candy apples~" You were amused at the thought of such mischief.

"Just be honest and say this feels like we're a couple of witches brewing poison" Satan outed your inner thoughts.

You turned your head around and gave him the kitty blep. Belphie had interrupted the fight before it could even escalate with a well-timed question,

"Should we stir it?"

"We probably should? I remember that burnt sugar tastes bad" You frowned as your brain recalled the taste of your burnt caramel pudding.

Your answer had led to Belphie to start stirring in panic. Mammon, your darling demon, in his impatience, grabbed the stirrer from Belphie's hand and began to stir enthusiastically.

"Oh crystals are forming?" Asmo looked at the cauldron, you took a peek as well and realized that there was indeed crystals.

'Ah...I messed up...' You looked sadly at the wasted efforts just as Belphie angrily asked,

"Whose idea was it to stir it?!"

Levi, your saviour, decided to shift the blame on Belphie. You sent him a grateful smile and secretly decided to pamper him a little bit more, once the opportunity arises.

"Let's just feed this batch to Beel" You told them as you took the tray away and delivered it to Beel.

"Ahahaha, you're treating Beel like a disposal unit!" Asmo laughed in amusement as he recalled all the times you had fed Beel your failed cooking and desserts that just didn't meet your standards.

You blushed as you remembered how much time the three of you had spent baking and cooking just so you could give a home-made lunch set to Mammon. It had ended in vain due to a mishap with a lower demon but you couldn't deny the happy feeling of Mammon eating the fallen spicy squid rice ball you had made for him.

"It's delicious! You should cook for me next time~!" He had teased you.

"This is just me being practical..." You hmphed at him and gently stomped your way out of the kitchen as they began to make a new batch.

When you were faraway enough to not overhear anything, Asmo chimed,

"She really does spoil all of us doesn't she?"

Mammon happily agreed, "Isn't she just the best!"

"Of course you'd say so, out of all us, you're the one she spoils the most!" Levi grumbled as he began washing a new batch of apples.

Satan hummed to show his agreement, "You must be so happy getting exactly the kind of lover you want."

Mammon blanked out for a moment before he remembered what Satan was talking about.

"I want someone who'd invest on me as much as I'd invest on them!"

He remembered the sticker you had sent at that time. Your cute and almost childish enthusiasm and your following comically rude disinterest at the following answers. It was in the early days of your stay when they were all interested in you, not as you were, but as a human they happened to be living with.

Mammon smiled softly and replied, "I am! That's why I'm doing this for her!"

Satan stared at him in shock.

You came back to see that others were resting while Belphie was still going at it.

"Anything I can do to help?" You asked him as you silently settled across him and stared into the cauldron.

"Keep me company? It's rare to see you and Mammon not attached to the hip." Belphie answered, soft smile gracing his lips.

You nodded your agreement and proceeded to talk to him about mundane stuff and the occasional gossip you would get from your succubi and incubi Tea Appreciation Club members. It was an open secret among your demons that the club was really just a front for Gossiping. And Diavolo allowed it simply for the fun and sometimes useful nuggets of information you'd tell him on your weekly report about the Exchange Program.

"Oh! I think you've got it down Belphie!" You noticed the perfectly melted candy and Belphie happily ordered you to prepare the tray of apples.

"Aye aye, Captain!" You saluted him and then quickly assembled the tray and watched him pour the candy over the apples.

The two of you watched the candy dry in glee and cheered.

“Let’s do the next batch?”

“Let’s take a taste test first,” Belphie replied as he took one candy apple and gave it to you “Here, take it.”

You gingerly took the apple and happily took a large bite on the side. You closed your eyes and gleefully savored the sweetness of the candy that worked well with the light sourness of the green apple.

“Is it delicious?” Belphie asked.

“Yep! You should have a bite!”

You moved the apple towards him and Belphie took a bite on the opposite side. Seeing him eat the apple made you laugh as you remembered the story of Eden. Belphie had looked at you in confusion and you explained,

“Bit on the nose isn’t it?”

You smiled and gestured to him, the apple and then yourself, “A demon, an apple and a woman.”

Realization sinks in and Belphie laughs lightly. “Well the apple certainly wasn’t green at that time.”

Your eyes widen at the implication of Belphie��s words however he refuses to elaborate what he meant.

The next couple of days were spent building and designing the stall. It had been fun painting the sign board, coming up with the prices just on the side of a little bit pricey without outright scamming the festival goers, flirting with Mammon, convincing Lucifer to let Diavolo drop by (Barbatos had seen through your attempt at free advertising), and scheming to get Lucifer's fan club to drop by (Lucifer had caught wind of it and you were given an impromptu running exercise). As the final preparations came to a finish, you couldn't help but ask a few questions about the festival itself,

"Ne ne Satan~" You poked at Satan's arms "Do you know if there would be fireworks shows at the end?"

Seeing your inquisitive look Satan began telling you what to expect at the Festival,

“These demons have different culture than the ones you typically see at RAD, theirs share a commonality with the human world’s Japanese Culture. An example would be the food stalls and the game stalls, the clothes called Yukata, animal masks, fireworks show and of course the Bonfire dance.”

“What’s the differences then?” You asked.

“Well...I guess the difference lies on the intent behind the bonfire dance?” Satan mumbled as he held his chin with his hand in thinking position, “Up there, the humans do the Bon Dance to guide their spirit ancestors to the underworld, in here the Lantern Night folk lights the fire to welcome those who arrived.”

“Lord Diavolo rents them an entire mountain range to use for this occasion,” Lucifer added “Though this event had always been here even before we arrived.”

“Then it’s just sad Dia-chan never got around to drop by until now~” You frowned at the thought that it took a long time before Diavolo even considered to drop by the festival until you invited him (with harmless ulterior motives that Barbatos let go).

“Dia-chan?” Lucifer repeated with a thunderous expression on his face.

“Get over it, I’m his human best friend.” You told him non-nonchalantly and wandered off to help and flirt (again) with Mammon.

The day of the festival arrived and as all of you were preparing to head out, Asmo had arrived with presents.

“Oh! Is it food?” You asked excitedly, trusting that Asmo knew your tastes by now but seeing the pout on his face you knew that any hope of having a light snack on the way was null.

“It isn’t! Jeez, why are you like Beel whenever someone gifts you something?” Asmo whined and you laughed at him.

“Because food is life.” You answered and then winked at Beel who was happy to support your claims.

“So what present did you get for us?” You asked once you had your fun and let Asmo do his thing.

“Ta-da~! Levi and I made clothes for us to wear at the festival~!” Asmo handed out the paper bags to the rest and presented yours with a flourish, “This one was specially made for you~ I had to hunt down the exact fabric and accessories just to make it come true!”

Seeing the proud look on his eyes, you happily praised Asmo and then some. You didn’t forget to praise Levi as well and happily watched his face turn red from embarrassment with your heaps of praise before inviting him to cosplay with you sometime.

“Hehe~” You hid your giddiness behind the wide and long sleeves of the soft white kimono. Admiring the detailed phoenix embroidery on the left side, while pink hand painted cherry blossoms littered at the bottom of the hems. the thin gold threads that formed clouds made it sure that the phoenix was soaring upwards.

“Thanks a lot, Asmo! I really like this!” You thanked Asmo once more before praising him for his cuteness and assured him he’d be a body breaker with how good he looked.

As each of the brothers went out to show their festival clothes, you made sure to praise each and every single one of them. Naturally, Mammon received most of your praise and appreciation, you made sure to thank Asmo once more for his nice assist.

“Mammon you look so handsome in your yukata!” You praised your boyfriend and made sure that he knew you were throwing very appreciative looks on his well-toned abs even if it was partially covered by bandages. You even patted his chest, taking the chance to grope his firm pectorals.

“Oi! Do that kind of thing at our bedroom!” Mammon lightly admonished you, as he gently grabbed your wandering hands and held you tightly against him.

“We can do it too if we find a dark secluded place in the forest...” You whispered to him and then loudly added, “You can grope me too if you want~! I’m allowing you to do so! Actually please do so!”

“Oi! Don’t tempt me here!”

You laugh at his agitation and kiss him before quickly running away with Asmo and Levi on tow.

After setting up the stall, you and Mammon were on the first shift. You watched in amazement as Mammon turned on his charms and easily sold the first two pieces of Candy Apples. You silently thanked your lucky stars that your Mammon wasn’t a ladies man but was instead just as utterly devoted to you as you were towards him.

“Hey, you should try calling out for customers too” Mammon gently nudged you to call out for customers and you gathered up your courage to at least contribute to the sales.

“Hey, Handsome!” You called out to the fox demon, “Come try our glossy candy apples!”

“Is there anything special about it?” The fox demon asked you.

Your mischief senses tingling to make a sale made you answer, “The special thing about it is that we sell it as a pair! Give the other half to the one you like and you’re guaranteed to have a wonderful event~!”

The fox demon blinked at you and hesitantly asked, “How did you— ”

“Handsome Fox-sama~ Our apples are guaranteed to help you have a beautiful memory from this event~ also seeing how much effort you put in tonight, a little luck from Enmusubi-sama won’t hurt!” You winked at him and you knew that he had fallen for your sca—sales speech.

“Then I’ll take two, please!”

“Here you go~! Two candy apples to go!” Mammon wonderfully assisted you and the two of you spent the shift doing excellent sca—sales work.

As the shift came to an end, Mammon began asking you what you wanted to do. You thought about it for the moment and said, “I want to see all the stalls while holding hands with you! And I want to see if they have fortune telling stalls too!”

Mammon blushed at your words and shyly said, “O-ok! As a reward for doing well, I’ll take you around and do everything that you want!”

“Then in that case I’d like to add that I want to dance with you around the bonfire. watch the fireworks with you at the end of this festival, and share a kiss that could lead into something else with you in a dark secluded space.” You looked at him in the eyes, conveying the seriousness of your wish.

“The-the last one might just be a bit...”Mammon trailed off as he stammered and felt his face heat up.

You made sure to show him your well-honed (courtesy of Asmo) puppy-dog eyes. And boosting up your charm just to get a sweet, passionate kiss from Mammon like both of you were part of a shoujo manga special.

“Grah! I got it! I got it! I’ll ki-kiss you at the end of the fire works show so stop giving me those eyes already!”

“Hurry up and leave you shameless PDA couple.” Satan told both of you off with dead fish eyes.

You did as Satan said and quickly pulled Mammon away from the stall to start of the date. The two of you idled around, sampling snacks and feeding each other.

“Here, have a drink. You’ve earned it” Mammon placed the cup of iced tea in your face and you took a sip from the straw.

‘Indirect kiss~ get!’ You thought happily as you drank.

“You did really great compared to how you used to be when talking to other demons” He praised you as you finished taking a drink, he tucked in the stray strands of hair away from your face and you blushed at the intimacy of his actions.

“It was all thanks to you...”

You looked away from his loving eyes, and squeezed his hand tight. You knew that most changes you had could be attributed to Mammon and your never ending desire to keep his eyes on you.

“Wh-what’s with this cute act!? Do you want a kiss or something?” He stammered and you could only shyly snuggle closer to him and nod slightly.

“Yes, please.”

Mammon leads you away from the crowd and prying eyes, the two of you were now tucked behind the stalls and Mammon’s hand was gently cupping your face.

“You’re really spoiled you know that?” He complains and yet his eyes were soft and fond of you.

You had always heard that eyes were the window to the soul and Mammon’s eyes told you everything he felt for you. And as always you couldn’t help but drown in them. You watch his face get closer to yours and you closed your eyes as his breath mingled with yours.

Mammon’s kisses would always begin in this way, soft and cautious. Always giving you a chance to pull away, even if everything in you would always seek him out, he kisses you like you were something infinitely more precious than the gems and countless treasures he stored away from the House of Lamentation. He kisses you in a way that never allows you to doubt for a single moment that you weren’t important.

He pours everything that he feels into his kisses and you accept all of it and give him back everything that you are. You drown in his love and let yourself grow weak in the knees and Mammon, your devoted demon, never fails to catch you and hold you close to him.

The rest of the shifts you had were a blur of events as your mind kept on wandering to the kiss Mammon gave you behind the stalls. It had felt different and you didn’t know why. This in turn made the situation feel like it was the start of the Exchange Program once more, and everyone but Mammon could see that you were crushing on him. The difference was that this time Mammon was aware of the blush on your cheeks, the reason behind your increased heartbeat and coquettish looks that you’d send to him.

He would without fail take his chances to payback for all of the times you’d tease him and you would take it like a champ even if you stammered or blushed your way through it.

Levi who couldn't stand it anymore got fed up and told the both of you to go PDA somewhere else.

“Be back before the fireworks show.” Lucifer said as Mammon took you away and proceeded to do everything that you asked of him.

The two of you garnered attention with your matching themed festival clothes, the dragon and the phoenix. Female demons would sigh and look at envy with the careful and gently way Mammon treated you, his doting and affectionate looks towards you made you feel muddle-headed while increasing the envy of the female demons.

The unsatisfied female demons who were single made up their mind to buy the blessed candy apples, while the ones who weren’t glared at their useless lovers and asked why they can’t be treated as sweetly as you. Thus, every demon that got criticized for not being as romantic as Mammon silently cursed your boyfriend in their heart, you were oblivious to this of course.

The two of you drank the free cup of sweet sake given away for those who got their fortunes told, and continued to leisurely walk around the stalls while holding hands. You spotted a stall selling couple charms and asked, “Can we check out that stall? I want to buy matching charms.”

Hearing the word “Matching” Mammon began walking towards the stall and enthusiastically began picking the ones that would look best for the both of you. Among the numerous charms you saw a pair of maneki neko and took it. Examining it carefully for damages, you turned to Mammon and said, “Darling, what about this?”

“Hm? What does it do?”

The vendor seeing her chance answered Mammon, enticed by the idea of gaining more luck when it comes to money, he bought it for the two of you. As all vendors of charms are to do, the crow demon lady also advertised a red thread of bracelet as a couple charm. Knowing the lore behind red threads, you shyly handed over twice the amount and bought it for you and Mammon.

Both of you thanked the lady demon and went off. You were admiring the woven red thread bracelet on your wrist, adoring the idea that you had tied your fate with Mammon. Seeing how happy you looked at something that was cheap, Mammon wondered if the bracelet you had tied to his wrist meant something deeper but he remained silent and instead opted to admire the pleased look of your face and fell in love with you all over again.

He tugged you closer to him and bent down a little bit to whisper to your ear, “ The bonfire dance is about to start, let’s go?”

Your ears reddened at the warmth of his breath and you remembered the kiss again, you could only weakly lean against him and nod your head. Mammon, seeing you so docile and practically transmitting your love for him to all demons and angels within range, made him smug. He leads you carefully towards the bonfire, and masterfully leads you to dance. Your hands clasped together, bodies close, and the warm light of the fire as both of you gazed at each other lovingly was the envy of all who were watching the dance.

You knew that Mammon was no angel, but the way the light shone upon him made him look so soft, and your love for him was overflowing that it hurt. But it was a pain you had grown to be familiar with. A small silent proof that you were capable of loving, and that you were worthy of being loved back.

As the time for the fireworks drew near, Mammon and you slipped away and headed to a spot he knew. It was up into the mountains and a secluded viewing platform that was overgrown with trees and grasses.

You glanced down to your linked hands and smiled at the realization that not once had he let go of your hand. You couldn’t help but keep on smiling, smiling so much for the whole evening that your face hurt. Today’s Mammon had made you realized how lucky you were to love and be loved by someone like him.

Mammon who was always considerate of you, silently taking care of you, and always looking out for your best interest. You recalled all the times, he’d cook for you and secretly put all the best parts on your plate, the times he’d just hang around you all day when you’d wake up with a heavy heart and body. You remembered how he had happily supported you with your naivety of saving that other version of you, how he always had your back and supported you unwavering in his belief on your abilities even when you doubted yourself.

“Look!” Mammon called your attention as he pointed into the sky.

The first firework exploded like a blossoming flower on the sky, and then came the next and the next until the Devildom sky was decorated in varieties of colored fireworks. You were mesmerized and couldn’t help but let out a soft, “It’s beautiful...”

You turned to Mammon and met his eyes, soft and utterly in love with you.

“You-you should be watching the display...” You hid your blush behind the sleeves of your kimono.

Mammon let go of your hand and you looked at him in confusion, he chuckles at your displeased look and instead brings out a velvet box. Your heart stammers and you feel blood rushing to your ears.

He calls your name softly, preciously, sweetly, as if it was as holy as his Father’s name and to him, your names was perhaps even holier than God’s. A name meant to be said only with love, a name that carried so much meaning for him. You had carved a hole in his heart and filled the empty spaces in him with your love. Your love had changed him irrevocably, remade him into a better version of him, made him unable to think of a future that didn’t have you in it and fear such possibilities.

You had made him care for you in a way that he had forgotten since he fell, and Mammon wanted you to take responsibility for it because he was no longer just the Avatar of Greed, one of the seven Rulers of Hell. He was now your Mammon, your lover, your most beloved demon, and most devoted avatar.

“Is this...?” You trailed off, not daring to hope too much on what a small box could mean.

“There is no such thing as marriage among demons not in the way humans do, not in the way angels used to have...but I can give you my vow, to love you as I always had in this obscure and inhuman way where I give all of myself to you.”

You tear up as his words envelop you and Mammon continues, ever so gentle with you as he whispers the words only meant for your ears, “Let me continue loving you in spaces between my ribs and in my heart, in the shadowed and rough edges of my soul, allow me to join you in your darkest days and happiest hours, i’ll weather the wind and rain for you...all I ask is that you give me the entirety of yourself...the bits and pieces that you hide because you think I am capable of being disgusted by you, those parts of you that you hate because it is the worst of you and you think it is ugly.”

“Mammon...”

“I don’t know how to love the way you humans do, all I know is that I love you as simple as the fact that my heart, sometime ago, without me knowing began to beat for you.”

Your tears flow, and you could only give him a choked up, “Yes.”

Mammon smiles with tears in his eyes as he slides the ring into your ring finger and kisses you on your forehead. You do the same to him and the two of you snuggle together and watched as the show slowly came to and end. You stare at his content face, and you can’t help but wish,

“I want this moment to last forever...”

Mammon blinks before his a wide mischievous and doting smile blossoms on his face, “In that case let’s start the tradition of spending this festival together from now on!”

You happily agreed and once more linked your hands together, red bracelets intertwined without you or him realizing.

#mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon #obeymax #summer festival #obey me

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

Note

I absolutely loved your Halloween fic for GO! Would you be willing to write another one just as sweet?

Hello, nonnie! I’m glad you liked it :) You asked for something sweet specifically, so I came up with a one-shot I hope fits that bill

Tricks or Treats (Rated PG13)

Lydia is about to pack it in for the evening, bid the trick or treaters adieu, when the oddest pair of Halloween revelers come knocking at her door. (1458 words)

Knock-knock-knock!

Knock-knock-knockknock-knockknock-knock-knock!

Lydia shuffles to the front door in her carpet slippers, bowl of candy in hand, rolling her eyes at that obnoxious knock. If she has to listen to another parent pound on her door in a kitschy, song-inspired rhythm, she’s going to start handing out scotch eggs instead of treats.

She swears to God she will.

Knock-knock-knock!

Lydia groans, but stops when, on the other side of the door, she hears a man’s voice say, “Quit it, angel! I’m pretty sure they get the hint. No more knocking needed.”

She smiles at that voice.

It’s smooth, attractive, dripping with sex appeal.

A man with a sexy voice and common sense. A rare commodity these days.

But then she remembers that he called someone angel, which means he’s married, accompanied by their gaggle of kids, and she groans again.

Halloween is definitely not the night to be scoping out hot guys, even if they come right up to her door.

She stops shy of grabbing the doorknob, debating whether or not she’s going to open it. It’s not exactly late – 9:15 at the latest. But considering the swarm she’d had to endure starting at five, she doesn’t think any reasonable adult would blame her for turning her lights out on whoever’s out there, plopping down in front of the tube, and holding her own private Doctor Who marathon while gnawing on what candy is left in the bowl.

She never had kids of her own. Never wanted them. So she never had to endure the yearly ritual of dressing them up like the latest popular cartoon characters and doing the rounds door to door begging for sweets. But for some reason, this year, doing her part by feeding the neighborhood rug-rats became too much too soon.

The urge to go through with Plan Hunker-Down-and-Hide becomes nearly overwhelming when she peeks a few feet to the right and realizes she can’t go through with it.

Not this time.

Not with this batch or trick-or-treaters.

Not because of some deeply invested sense of noble purpose.

But because she’s left her curtains open, and the people on the doorstep can see her standing there, contemplating life.

She only sees the parents – two men standing side by side. The older of the two (she presumes by his white hair) smiles brightly at her and waves. There’s something so wholesome in the twinkle in his eyes. A childlike glee. She doesn’t have the heart to blow him off. Besides, the man he’s standing next to – dressed all in black, tight-fitting jeans and flaming red hair, the perfect dash of sinister to the other man’s sweet – is a little too tempting for her not to see in person.

She squares her shoulders, clears her throat. She walks the two steps to the door and opens it. She smiles down at the two men on the stairs … but that smile sags a tad when she sees it’s just them and no one else.

Not a child in sight.

Normally, she would be thrilled, because that might mean the man in black could be available, but seeing as this is a holiday where the company of children is to be expected, these two men might be whackos.

Or serial killers.

The men are both handsome, but neither in costume. The older gentleman (not too much older than his companion, she realizes now that he’s no longer obscured by her dusty glass window) is dressed entirely in pale cream and sky blue. His well-worn velvet vest reminds her strongly of her nana’s favorite sofa and that puts her at ease. The man beside him, taller and thinner, is dressed like a rich undertaker: snakeskin shoes on his feet and a pair of dark glasses resting on the bridge of his nose she swears she’s seen in the window at Ferragamo, which means they cost way more than she’ll ever be able to afford in her life.

If she had to make a guess, she’d say they’re dressed as an angel and a demon.

She doesn’t know why, given she has no real evidence. It’s just a feeling she gets looking at the two of them.

The man in white holds out a wooden bowl filled to the brim with treats and declares brightly, “Trick or Treat!”

“My ... goodness!” Lydia replies with mild confusion. “Aren’t you two a little old to be trick or treating?”

“Halloween has no age limit,” the man in black says dryly, a line she’s certain his friend has persuaded him to say seeing as the wattage on his smile dials up when he hears it.

“I see ...”

“Here you go, my dear,” the angel (since that’s how she has decided to think of him) says, holding his bowl up higher. “Take what you’d like.”

“Oh! Uh …” Lydia appraises the angel and the demon, more confused than she’s ever been in her life. She’d think the two were playing at something except the angel seems so incandescently happy to be offering her treats, she can’t imagine he’s trying to pull anything over on her. “You’re … giving me candy?

“Yes! You’ve been handing out treats all night long. Don’t you think you deserve a little something?

“Why ... yes!” Lydia chuckles, both touched and bemused. “Thank you for the thought and all, but I already have more candy than I know what to do with!” She holds out her own bowl as evidence.

The man in black steps forward. He slides his glasses down his nose and looks up at her with yellow, slitted eyes. Serpent’s eyes. She bites her lower lip. She was right! At least, half right. He has dressed as a demon – costume contacts and all! “There’s Schnapps in there, too,” he informs her, tilting his head toward the bowl.

Her eyes light up. “You’re kidding! Oh dear God, I’ve been dying for a drink! And I don’t have a drop in the house!”

“You’re welcome to them then,” the angel says.

Lydia looks at the bowl in disbelief. There, lying on top, are five small bottles of Schnapps. But they weren’t there before. She doesn’t think they were. Granted, she only took a quick glance at the bowl when the angel first presented it, but she thought it was filled with chocolate bars, popcorn balls, and peanut brittle. She takes one bottle, but the angel nudges the bowl at her.

“Go ahead and have them all.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely!”

“Thank you!” she says, plucking them out quickly, trying not to appear too greedy in her gratitude. “Oh and they’re peach! Peach is my favorite! How did you …?” Lydia looks at the angel, then the demon, her head shaking slightly. “But you couldn’t have known, right? It’s a lucky coincidence.”

“The bowl knows,” the demon says, tapping his temple.

“That’s right,” the angel concurs. “The bowl does tend to know what people like best.”

“Right,” Lydia says skeptically. It’s a coincidence, she thinks. That’s all. It’s Halloween. And even though these men don’t seem dangerous, they’re probably messing with her a little. Still, there’s no harm in believing that they are what they seem to be – an angel and a demon, carrying a magical bowl from house to house, granting the wishes of tired housewives and maudlin single women. “Well, bless you! Bless you both!”

“You’re very welcome!” the angel says but the demon jerks back, shaking his head and pinching his lips as if he’s suddenly smelt something foul.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah …” He grabs the angel’s elbow and pulls him down the stairs. “Steady on with the blessing there. Enjoy your booze.”

“I will!” Lydia clutches her precious cargo to her chest, fully prepared to pack it in for the evening with no regrets.

“Oh, and enjoy your Doctor Who marathon, my dear,” the angel calls over his shoulder with a wink.

Lydia’s eyes pop. Her mouth drops. In the seconds that follow, she furiously scans her memories of their conversation, searching for the moment she mentioned that was what she was thinking of doing before she opened the door.

But before her scanning has finished she knows – she didn’t make a one.

“Nine has always been my favorite,” the angel continues.

“Really?” the demon says, offering the angel his arm as Lydia watches them start down the street. “I fancy Ten, meself.”

“Oh, no. No no no, dear.”

“Why not? What does Nine got that Ten doesn’t?”

“He’s a bad boy, as they say, with a heart of gold.” The angel chuckles, resting his head on the demon’s shoulder. The demon, for his part, gravitates toward him, his body bowing in the angel’s direction. “It’s my one true weakness, my love.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #frankie writes

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jadeile-writes · 4 years

Text

Fanfic Progress Update 55

Hey-o! I suppose I need to do a Fanfic Progress Update, since it’s Saturday! Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure gone Mini AND Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 35 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 26th of February. Chapter 36 is finished and will be posted on 18th of March. Chapter 37 has been started.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

That month of the year (previous known as The Dad Deer)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Every year, for a single month, the Radio Demon gets… emotional. His antlers are in velvet and he’s pumped full of hormones that make him behave quite unlike himself: suddenly, everywhere he looks, instead of seeing fellow demons all he sees are helpless little fawns that nobody is taking a proper care of! Solution? Adopt them.

Husk, Niffty, Camille, Honey, and the rest of the older Fawns put up with their Mom/Dad’s nonsense every year, but this time there’s a new, rotten apple in their midst and they have to protect Alastor from this crook. Without Alastor knowing about it. As Husk likes to put it: “This is fucking bullshit. ...I mean fudgy nonsense.”

(Crack taken seriously. Gen)

Progress: The first chapter is finished! The second chapter hasn’t been started yet. I want to have at least three chapters written before posting anything.

This fic is co-authored by Maximillian!

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two dorks!

Progress: Chapter 5 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 13th of March. Chapter 6 will be posted on 17th of March, and chapter 7 hopefully on 20th of March. Hopefully, because chapter 7 hasn’t been written yet, oops. I do still have a whole week tho, so I’m very likely to get it done before the deadline, and it has been started as well. This story will have at least ten more chapters, but who even knows at this point. Prompts are no longer accepted, and I’ll need to make an announcement about that in the next chapter’s author’s notes, as I’ve actually received a few additional ones (that I still put in the list because I’m nice).

This fic is updated on Tuesdays and Fridays. I’ll post a sneak-peek for Tuesday’s chapter on these updates, and one for Friday’s chapter in a separate post on Wednesday.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Experiment in Romance (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here is the promised sneak-peeks into Adventure gone Mini and Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest. (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Link grinned at Sidon, way more excited than the occasion probably deserved. He watched as a batch of Minish unloaded themselves from the mouse cart, and finally the person driving it signaled for the waiting people, Link and Sidon included, to come forward and board it. Why yes, after they had finished eating and gotten ready to continue their journey, a helpful Minish had stopped them and informed them that the mouse cart to the next city should arrive within the next ten or so minutes. Obviously they had chosen to wait for that instead, both because it saved them a five hour walk and turned it into a two hour ride, and because of course they wanted to try the mouse cart when the opportunity was there. Link had no way of knowing for sure, but he trusted that none of the Minish they had dined with were Vaatians; surely they would have caused trouble already if they were going to. So, sitting in the cart with them for about two hours didn't feel like an awful idea this time around, unlike the ride from the Capital to here would have been. Link and Sidon were guided to sit in the middle of the cart for balance reasons – Sidon was about three times the size of an average Minish, after all – and soon enough the cart was full and the journey begun. It was very similar to traveling on a horse cart, except for the fact that the ride was bumpier and faster, as the mice pulling the cart scurried along without the proper rhythm that horses were trained for. It was still a cool thing to experience and Zelda would no doubt want to try it.

Bushwa

It was quarter past midday when Alastor finally received the quiet notification from a shadow minion that Husker had emerged from his room and situated himself at the front desk. It was later than usual, but not unheard of, so he wasn't concerned when he dropped the conversation he had been having with one of the clients in favour of appearing by his sheik's side to wish him a good morning.

"Hello, Husker, my only sunshine!" Alastor said cheerfully and pulled his fluffy kitty into a side-hug. Husker hummed passively and leaned against him, which prompted Alastor to drop a kiss on his temple. "How are you this fine day?"

Alastor begun scratching behind Husker's ear while waiting for the answer.

Husker shrugged. "It's a day."

Alastor's scratching halted for a second and his smile dimmed in mild confusion. Husker sounded… off. Like he was just reading the words from a cue card without any emotion behind them. It was concerning, and needed to be fixed.

He widened the smile again and moved his scratching to the base of Husk's skull, hoping to get a better reaction from what he knew to be a sweeter spot. "Are hung over again? You sound a little unenthusiastic today. Have you eaten anything? Would you like a smoothie?"

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3 FFnet Purple Crayon Ko-fi

#Fanfic progress update

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courtorderedcake · 5 years

Text

Roses : A CS retelling of ‘Tam Lin’

Hi, everyone! Thanks to @kmomof4 and the extremely talented @eastwesthomeisbest for their patience on this. As usual, thanks to @ultraluckycatnd who I would be lost without, the woman is a monster editing machine, and super beta. I live for my updates from her. Without further ado, here is my laaaaaaaaaaaate contribution to @cssns. You get TWO chapters for the price of one! WHOA!

Read on Ao3 right here, darlings! Chapter 1/4 Chapter 2/4

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If there was one trope in fairytales that Emma hated, it was the lonely orphan who found parents and lived happily ever after in a beautiful castle. Her first problem with it was that while she hadn’t met any royalty, she doubted that most of them lost track of their children that often. Or, if they were separated, that a prince or princess would be placed in a crowded Boston orphanage. Her second problem was that there were only so many countries in the world, and even less with a missing monarch. Even diplomats and billionaires were few and far between in that category.

So, on a rainy April afternoon when she returned to her apartment, she did not expect to see a fresh faced courier waiting for her. Although she wasn’t old by any means at 28, the boy looked about 12 with his baby face as he asked her to sign for the letter. She gave a scribble, handed him a wadded bunch of bills from her bag, and stumbled inside to peel off her rain slicker. Throwing aside the envelope of what was probably more of her husband's accounts that she was now responsible for, Emma opted for a nap before work instead. It was until she landed a successful skip that night that she felt ready to tackle another batch of what remained from Neal's legacy.

Kicking off her heels, which were most likely ruined from the rain, she collapsed on her couch. With a wiggle, the skin tight red number was off and she basked in the freedom of being nude as she searched her floor for a clean t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants. Looking at the letter, she picked it up and placed it between her teeth, paused to put her hair in what she hoped would resemble a ponytail, and pulled to rip it open. Letting the envelope fall to the floor, she grabbed her thick rimmed glasses to read the small script.

Her roommate, Mary Margaret, came out of her room. “Emma? It’s 4 am, did you just get back?”

“Mmmmyar.” Emma replied, scanning the text. Her late husband's family crest and name, long discarded after his death, was printed on top of the document. She shuddered at the golden medallions adorning a darkened shield, and the scaled, lizard like, dragon that curling around it.

“Well… OK, but do you want some coffee? David's here and we're getting up early to -”

“Holy. Fucking. Grilled cheese and onion rings.” Emma breathed heavily, staring wide eyed in shock at the papers in front of her.

“What are you swearing on such sacred foods for?” Mary Margaret quirked an eyebrow in amused concern.

“I've just inherited an estate valued at £800,000.” Emma flicked her eyes up, mouth a thin line. “Neal's family's fortune, home and grounds apparently. Things I never even knew about.”

“Well.” Mary Margaret sipped her coffee, looking completely nonplussed even if Emma knew on the insides she was bursting - it was how she had earned her nickname Snow Queen after all. “That would do it.”

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The estate reading took place in Ireland through a crackling speaker box, Emma's eyes racing around the office the entire time. It was stunning, as were what seemed like all the buildings during her trip to gain the deed to her home. This office in particular was what Emma imagined when reading Peter Pan; a gentleman's study and den, complete with whiskey decanter and cigar box to her left as if she had gone back in time. The tall shelves were lined in books with gold leaf letters and rich leather bindings, the panels of dark wood mixed with verdant jade paint and damask almost making up for the unsettling stuffed deer heads.

Cringing, Emma turned back to the box. The voice on the other line was thickly accented with a rolling brogue which Graham assured her in his own was common, and had obviously been in a bad mood long enough for it to be a defining quality.

“Ye don't be wanting Carterhaugh, lass. T’place is cursed, hallow in the way tat echoes, not t’way of blessings.”

Her lawyer smirked, teeth white and extremely straight. Emma had liked Graham Grimm since she had met him, and this was insight into his character. Taste in wall decorations aside, he respected her agency enough to not let this man continue to try to stop the change in ownership. In her experience, lawyers were far too careless and rude. This man was funny, even when she teased him about his name and he had sighed, an eye roll so loud she could hear it through their original phone call.

(Yes, my name is Graham Grimm. Yes, they do sound alike. No, I am not involved with fairytales, unless you consider me a fairy Godmother of estate and divorce settlements. No, I am usually very happy. No, I cannot change into a black shaggy dog, can you please just tell me what the approximate appraisal value is?)

“My client will determine its worth.” His tone was calm and well practiced, even through his own clear lilt, but Emma could hear the edge there just under the surface. He had the heart of a forest hunter; not a threat until prey was too well ensnared in a carefully laid trap. This man on the phone, a Mr. Seáìnns’, had been fighting tooth and nail to keep her from her inheritance, throwing obstacle after obstacle in her way for months now.

At first it was as simple as he refused to understand that Emma wanted to know the family that had abandoned her husband, wanted to feel the last connections she had with him or any family she could, but it quickly devolved into more. Emma was subject to constant harassment by calls and letters, envelopes filled with shredded paper or scribbled notes she could not read, all from this crazy older man in the village that Carterhaugh laid in. This didn't do much more than annoy her, as well as the post office, customs, and the garbage disposal crew. It escalated to him crossing a line when he tried to prove she was not the proper heir, insinuating Neal was a bastard, and further when he tried to declare the estate a historical landmark.

Emma hadn't even seen the damn mansion or castle or whatever an estate was considered. It seemed to vary between every property she had compared what little information she had, the repeated ridiculous notion of having her own ballroom driving her and David giddy with excitement. Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, but David pulling her away to dance made a smile crack across her face. They'd discovered over beers that a ballroom didn't make a home a palace, a question neither David, her, or Mary Margaret had ever thought they'd be asking.

The sound of sputtering rage brought her back to the present.

“You bloody ridiculous ‘n hateful creatures! I know what you are doing, what you're playing at. You can try to find me, but I know your games, and I know this woman is either demon or worse! She'd kill ye before even looking, smile on ‘er face. Calling her client… Yer client doesn't know her ken folk have cursed me, an m’wife, and took -” The line crackled, an electronic whining mixed with metallic pops. A dial tone replaced the man's voice and Graham’s smile faded.

“Well. It seems like your new residence has eccentric neighbors, doesn't it?” Graham laughed, and Emma felt his hand slip into her own. She flinched, pulling away from him and he gave her a sad smile. “Sorry, I -”

“It's alright. I… I'm just not looking for anyone.” Rubbing her palms together to do something with her hands, she pushed away the feeling of wrong that came over her at someone's touch. “I don't think I'll be ready for some time.”

Graham nodded, gathering papers together from his desk. He waited a few long, drawn out, silent minutes before asking, “How long has it been since Mr. Gold's -”

Emma's tone was short, frustration defined in every syllable. “It could have happened yesterday, but it was 2 years ago. We got married fast, it was a blur. It's a difficult topic for me.”

“I'm so sorry I -”

“Can we please see the estate?” Pinching her brow as a migraine set in, Emma heard Graham clear his throat and stand.

“Absolutely. It's a few hours from here, if you'd like to get lunch and car pool -”

“I'll take my car. Lead the way.”

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Driving through the small town of Carterhold, Emma could see why locals may be wary of change. The town was a sleepy and picturesque village, stone homes with thatched or moss covered rooftops that stood sparsely around a small town center. From there, through the foggy clouds that swirled through a dense forest, trees climbed up the slope of a massive hill, emerald fingers that reached for the plains leading up to Carterhaugh’s imposing presence, and its perch on the cliffs over the sea. The wind shifted, and it was gone, swallowed again by mist, but Graham was already making the slow ascent up a winding road.

Emma heard a thud, jerking the steering wheel as someone barreled into her bug, broad shoulders and crazed eyes under matted hair barely visible through her wet windows.

“What the -”

The words had barely left her mouth when an unmistakable voice was yelling at her, rambling incoherently as he pounded on her door.

“Ye kinnit go to Carterhaugh! Ye kinnit have it ye bloody witch or fairy demoness! ‘Tis on Hallowed and protected ground, guarded, an ye haven't a clue what I will do to protect it from you, ye - ” The face of Mr. Seáìnns was lit by lightning, eyes blazing bright blue, thunder from his fists against the passenger door and the sky. Emma felt panic in her chest, heavy and leaden.

Slamming her foot on the accelerator, Emma let the bug lurch into its unused highest speeds as she flew up the road to Carterhaugh.

The driveway was curved elegantly behind an imposing metal and stone gate, mossy spheres capping the tall towering structure. The manor itself, even in its disuse, was stunning. A fountain stood before large wooden doors, framed by windows that traveled in neat rows up walls choked in ivy. Two wings on either side curved off from there, both facing the sea and woods, a domed roof on one side for a solarium, another for a ballroom. It was both imposing and impossibly inviting, a mystery that was decayed beyond unraveling.

And it was hers.

Graham helped her inside, the lights crackling in refusal to turn on in the storm as they stood in the atrium, dripping on the stone parquet.

“It's fine, I have a lighter,” Emma shrugged, pulling it out of her jacket pocket. “I always carry one. As a kid I was afraid of being alone in the dark. I somehow always seemed to end up there, either hiding or being forced somewhere, so it helped to make my own magic light to fight away shadows. Probably silly…”

“Not silly at all. It's a common fear based on instinct. Predators lurk in the dark, so your brain says that light is safe,” Graham said simply. “Smart to have it on you to start a fire too, or warm up in the wilderness.”

Emma's lips tightened as he continued on about the practicality of the lighter. She turned, expecting him to get the hint, but he followed her while continuing on about the merits of different wood to burn or oils to keep to sustain a good burn. Emma found herself wishing for a nice birch branch just to whack him with. As her annoyance peaked, the lights flickered on.

“Well. No candles I guess, but let's get you a fire started in the hearth, and then I'll be on my way.” Graham paused, and looked down, shuffling his shiny leather shoes. “Unless… I can stay if you like, until you get used to the place or have someone to stay with you, you know, because it's a big older house and -”

“I think I'll manage.” The words crept out more icily than she wanted, but he nodded with a sheepish wave of his hand.

“That's fine. Just call if you do find you need something. I'll get someone out here, and then be out myself in an hour or so. I don't want to see you get swallowed up by a house this big.” He smiled and Emma returned it genuinely, touched by his offer. If she didn't know how men dangled kindness in the face of women like her to get something in return, she would have taken him seriously. But Neal… Neal had ruined her.

The fire in the hearth was easy enough to start, even without special wood. Taking off her boots and coat, she gazed into the flame and planned out her course of action. Her sparse belongings were in the bug, and furniture would be delivered as soon as she took stock of what remained and measured for new pieces. Sighing and rubbing her temples, Emma rolled out her sleeping bag. She was asleep as soon as her eyes closed.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

In the morning, light flitting through the windows and the chill of the fire's death woke her up far earlier than her usual time. Wandering out to the bug, she dragged her luggage inside, pulling on extra socks and layering her sweaters. The effect was comical, but warm. Her stomach growled, but the kitchen was a quick - and musty - find. Sticking to pop tarts instead of whatever the swamp like gloop in the sink was, Emma set to work making a written game plan.

Calling contractors would wait until reasonable hours, but she mapped out who she would need while taking stock of furniture, books, tapestries, busts, and paintings. To her surprise, much of the home was in decent condition, and she easily found a bedroom suite that overlooked the sea cliffs from a secure balcony, a fireplace with stone carved boats in its inlay, an almost modern bathroom, and to her absolute delight, had a storybook fairytale four poster bed. The linens were almost new, the pillows fluffy , and it smelled of sea salt, leather, spice, and rum. If she didn't know how alone she was, the room would seem almost home to someone.

As normal waking hours approached, Emma went outside to survey the gardens and landscape. Most of the plants were dead around the house itself, but the gardens and connected solarium were wild and overrun with blooms. Down the hill, wildflowers in rainbow spectrum danced in the wind, their colors like an eruption of the Crayola crayons Emma had to share in school.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye, and a dark shape made its way around to the front of the manor. Emma grabbed a rusted shovel from a garden bed, and crept towards where the intruder had gone. She found the man looking curiously at her bug. He was tall, dark hair blowing in the wind, scratching his neck in confusion. In his hand was a hook.

“Don't touch my car and I won't have to hurt you, buddy!” Emma yelled, wielding the shovel in her hands like a baseball bat. The man turned, surprised.

Blue. The first thing that Emma noticed was how blue his eyes were; how clear and beautiful the blue she saw in those eyes reflected the color of the sky above. The eyes that currently were gazing at her in confusion.

“Who are you?” he asked, raising his hands above his shoulders, as if she were police. In his left hand was not a hook, but a three pronged garden trowel. Some impression she made, thinking about urban legends this late in life.

“Better question, Alex Trebek, is who the hell are you?” Emma snarled.

“I’m the, er, gardener, madam.” He waved the garden trowel in the direction of a nearby wheelbarrow. There was something off in the way he spoke, the accent strange to her. “Killian. Killian Jones.”

“Gardener?” Emma would had refused staff had she known they existed, and had made sure that she was for the most part alone. He shouldn't be here, especially not with her. Anger boiled over to cover her fear. “You’ve done a great job of things.” Gesturing at the dead plant life around the dilapidated manor, she watched his eyes narrow. “You’re truly magic with landscaping.” This comment brought a dark smile to his face that left her feeling like he was in on the punch line of a joke she hadn’t heard.

“Well, if you’d contact the ruddy owner and let him know to add to the budget for gardening...” The English accent was evident in his voice now, the clear definition between Irish and it what had been off to her ears as she watched his cheeks reddening. Emma gave him a wolfish grin.

“I think that can be arranged.” She gave him a curt nod, before pointing to herself, which he appraised with lips curled back. “Emma Swan. Official new ‘ruddy owner’ of Carterhaugh.”

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The Gold family estate had beautiful gardens. At one time they even had cultivated a rare buttercup and rose hybrid, so they had been very particular on who tended their gardens. A quick call to Graham that took several minutes of cell phone aligning to make confirmed that Killian Jones actually was listed on a small ledger, his family name written on yellowing paper, noted as “horticultural help”.

“I don't know how I missed this, it's like it just appeared here Miss Swan,” Graham had groaned, yawning into his end of the line. Static cracked through her cell phone speakers as fog rolled over the driveway. “But yes, he is explicitly listed as coming with the property.”

“Great. And you're sure I can't fire him without penalty?”

“No, I'm sorry. This is written in a ridiculously old way, as if they're counting him as property. He can resign, but even then -” There were several moments of garbled reply that was incomprehensible. Emma huffed, kicking rocks and pacing until she caught a better signal, and Graham's voice snapped back on the line. “-Look into it more as I do some digging. You're out of luck. Do you want me to come stay? I'm happy to while you wait for another friend -”

“No, no, it’s fine. He’s not creepy, he just seems…” Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she struggled for words. “He seems, lonely. Just sort of desperate and excited for company, which I thought I could avoid by being out here. I just wanted to be alone, or at the very least I guess with someone I didn't worry about… Well. I just don't do yokels or men, and he seems a pinch of both.”

Dead air hung on the other line, followed by a faint, eerie whispering.

“Graham?”

The sound of a low laugh, as quiet as blown leaves over cold pavement sounded over the line, and Emma dropped her phone with a start.

“Are you alright?” came the sudden voice from behind her, and she whirled on her heel.

"I'd be fine if you made noise when you walked, buddy, and if I could get some damn reception out here." Emma huffed, and the grounds keeper seemed to decide against saying anything, quickly snapping his mouth shut. "Do you know a better place to get service?"

In the fog and chill breeze of the gravel drive, Emma suddenly felt a deep sense of foreboding and unease. The shadow of Carterhaugh loomed, as if reaching for her, Killian already swallowed by the scrawled shape in the morning sun. He seemed uneasy as well, even unnerved. Emma watched as his jaw muscles worked as if he quite literally chewed on her words before speaking.

"I could set up a tea service, if you'd like, but I'm afraid you'll find neither a service or reception out here. Nothing but chill." He made a gesture for her to follow him, which she did with a wry smile. He thought he had a sense of humor. Wonderful.

As he prepared tea from a silver set in one of the many kitchen cabinets, they made attempts at conversation. Killian was also a caretaker for the property, and he asked her how she came about ownership as they sat at the large oak dining table together. The furniture was remarkably well preserved in the majority of the main rooms, much to her delight.

The sunshine through moth eaten curtains had dust motes swirling in the air as her face fell, and she swallowed the bile that rose before she uttered her tight words.

“My husband passed away.” Killian had winced at that.

“I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was -”

“I don't… I don't discuss Neal.” She closed her eyes tightly, taking deep breaths, feeling her skin flame. Even after what felt like an eternity, Neal's shadow still darkened her day. She sipped her tea, trying to cool herself, even with the scalding liquid.

He hadn't asked any more on the subject, only asking about changes to what affected his work. Emma found it comforting; if he was to stay, at least he would leave well enough alone.

“I'd like to stay here, if you don't mind. I have a master suite facing the sea on the third level of the east wing, and I know there'll be nothing in town for rent,” he stated. Emma chewed her lip in thought, mapping out his room in relation to her own. The answer struck her, and she groaned with a scrunched face of annoyance.

“Do you get up early? Probably don't keep a fire lit?” she grumbled, and he looked at her with eyes narrowed.

“Yes, I'm up as early as possible, and I find I enjoy the chilled sea air. Why?”

“And I bet you have a dove gray comforter.” Emma sighed, head falling into her palm with a wry laugh. “Because of course, just of course -”

“I do, aye -” He blinked and his brows shot up. “Were you..? Did you sleep in my room?”

“Well, no, but I didn't know it was -”

“I mean, it's fine. I'll choose another, I guess -”

“No. No need to be ridiculous. I… You probably know where the next best preserved bed is?” she asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Well yes, but you'd be in the same wing, is that alright?”

Emma hesitated, and then nodded. “With you up so early I doubt we'd see much of each other. And I'll be busy inside as you work outside.”

He made a non-committal noise, and stood with a stretch. Emma inhaled sharply; he was well toned and very good looking, but the thought of anyone’s hands on her after Neal had…

Her stomach churned.

“Follow me, then,” he said, offering his hand. Emma could feel her lungs tightening. Her expression must have frozen on her face too, because his eyes widened and he lowered his hand. “Or we could do this later, if you -”

Emma stood, and shook her head. “Just got a bit dizzy. Lead the way.”

They made no conversation as he led her up the staircase to the third level, the other suite he mentioned on the far end of the hall whereas his was at the beginning. The large door was imposing but carved with floral inlay, the stain perfectly applied to add to its richness. Both sides were flanked by stained glass in the same twisted vine and flower designs.

“I almost chose this room. It was for the lady of this house at one time, and should serve you better than me.” Killian produced a key with the same designs swirled around the brass, unlocking it to reveal a sun warmed sitting area the color of blushing peonies. An ornate vanity sat in one corner, while a matching bureau and canopy bed sat before a balcony, from which the sea and his own room visible. Stained glass curved around the doors to what she assumed were the closet and bathroom, and more carved wood and glass made up a truly spectacular fireplace. If Killian’s room was big, this room was truly gigantic.

Emma was at a loss, the furniture was all beautifully intact except for the bed’s canopy curtains and linens. Beyond that, the fabrics and rugs showed no large evidence of wear, the patterns still bright and soft underfoot. She poked her head in the closet and found it relatively large, possibly a maid's room or changing salon at one time, then turned the handle of the bathroom while Killian watched from the entrance.

The huge claw foot soaking tub and gold veined marble under her feet could not prepare her for the large stained glass framed window that captured the sea, as if she was sailing away in the tub itself. A double sink, open shower, and large mirror completed the space in luxury. It was exquisite, and left Emma aching for a bubble bath.

“I'll move your things, if you -”

“No,” she whispered, still in awe, before clearing her throat. “No, that's alright. I'll move everything. I… I don't like people touching my things.”

“At least allow me to give you my spare set of bedding, love, and -”

“I am not your love, alright?” she snapped, and his eyes widened. She took in a steadying breath, chewing her lip to rid herself of the sourness she wanted to throw at him. He seemed mollified, scratching behind his ear.

“I'm sorry, I -”

“No. I'm sorry. It's been… I have… I don't do people very well.”

“Well, I'll get you the linens and be out of your way, then.” There was resignation in his tone, but Emma could only hug herself as she let her armor build back up around her.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Her tone was clipped, but she didn't expect the annoyed response, huffed under his breath as he pulled blankets and pillows from a hall closet.

“As you wish, Princess.”

Emma's tone was colder than ice, her words spoken in frigid staccato. “Excuse me? I must have misheard you.”

“I wasn't expecting the new owner to be all business, is what I said. These corridors are old. If you aren’t careful, these halls will try to trick you. You’ll get used to them, though.” Killian deposited the mountain of linen on her bed, and spread out the fitted sheet.

“I don't think halls,” she snatched the pillows from the bed, pulling the sheet roughly on the other side, “are capable of trickery. Only people. People are difficult, they need to be watched. You have to keep your eyes on them or they'll do who knows what.” Pulling roughly on the sheet again, she glared with narrowing eyes at Killian, his own eyes glowering under dark lashes. “Especially people who say things under their breath like a petulant, scorned, self absorbed, preening -”

“Well, I would despair if ‘People’ took their eyes off of me. Some might say this attention is in the beholder’s benefit, and I'd say so as well. I'm quite dashing, or so I've heard.” Gripping the comforter tightly, he laid it out and smoothed it down while returning her glare. “So, I suppose we are well matched, since you are an icy, insufferable, stubborn, spoiled -” Reaching for a pillow, his hand grazed her own, and Emma yelped in surprise.

Her breathing quickened as she stared at her skin, Killian’s insults and attempted arguments drowned out by an increasing electrical whine mixed with her heartbeat thumping. Stumbling away into the bathroom, she turned on the tap, desperately washing her skin where they had touched in the rust colored water, scouring the place their skin had met with her nails instead of the absent soap.

Killian’s hand found her shoulder and Emma flew at him, pushing him away as she screamed profanities. He stumbled backwards into the tub, watching in fear at her transformation, her rubbed raw hand bleeding as she renewed her focus on the new area he'd touched. Without soap it was pointless, hot water her only real advantage, pouring the scalding water onto her skin. She mumbled to herself, trying to focus against the onset panic.

Emma's thoughts were burning away elsewhere, the fires she could not escape when Neal had locked her away; smoke, embers and ash acrid in both the air and her lungs.

It took what felt like hours for her to come back to herself, her fingernails bloody and skin blistered from the heat. The gentle chime of the clock in the room indicated it had only been ten minutes to her relief. It was the worst attack she had in ages, the first time in so long she hadn't been able to control herself. The first time in so, so, long that she had fallen back into the flame of those memories, of that pain.

A soft voice whispered gently to her, taking her off guard, and she looked up to see Killian slowly extricating himself from the bathtub. He raised his hands in supplication, kneeling several feet away from her. She choked out a strangled noise and he shook his head.

“It's alright, it's OK, lo - er…” He gave a sheepish look, thinking for a moment. He smiled in a sad sort of way after a moment, before continuing, “It's alright. Just tell me how I can help. Maybe a glass of water?” Emma nodded slowly. “Alright, I'll fetch you a bottle.”

At his retreat, Emma let her herself take stock of what had happened, falling back into her times under clinical observation. Mary Margaret had been a stone faced angel, taking in her pain and working a life around it, going as far as releasing care notes when she felt Emma was ready. She had met David, Emma's adoptive brother that way, resulting in a very happy marriage.

“Patient refuses to accept human contact, even using high concentration chemical cleaning agents on skin.”

“Patient has no history of obsessive or compulsory behavior, but violence and destruction of property are noted in their state welfare file.”

“Attempts at getting patient to explain what happened on the night of the incident to victims causes patient to become increasingly distressed when her husband is mentioned. Questions regarding other victims or the causes of death are met with silence. Patient claims no memory of her actions.”

“Patient indicates possibility of further witnesses or victims at scene - hallucinations caused by trauma or psychosis?”

“Repeated attempts at questioning or explaining patient's obsessive actions or fear of touch are met with hostility, while questioning in regards to matrimonial life is indicative of abuse. Patient advocate (M. M.) recommends home based care, with patient's brother.”

“Patient continues to allow touch in sparing amounts among family, friends, and in situations where they are prepared. Therapy with preferred Doctor is continuing as part of a deferred sentence. Patient advocate (M. M.) states that large improvement has been made outside of care facilities. Recommending end of observational treatment.”

Killian placed the water next to her, as the feeling of oxygen in her lungs weighed her down.

“Thanks.” Emma croaked, voice raspy. Killian sat down in front of her, legs crossed as he watched her drink with shaking hands.

Scratching behind his ear, he looked sideways across the floor, picking at a chipped piece of tile. “It was nothing. I'm sorry that -”

“Don't be. I just have a thing about touch.” Emma stood briskly, ice back in her unsteady tone at glacial levels. “You couldn't have known, and since you are going to be scarcely around it won't be an issue, as we discussed earlier.”

Killian snorted, and stood as well, rocking on his heels. “I was going to say that I'm sorry it took so long, and I brought you some… other items.” His face changed, haughty to solemn, watching her hands tremble as she shoved them in her pockets. “You're right, we won't be seeing each other often. If you need help with something, or finding your way around the estate, leave me a note under my door. If I need garden supplies, I'll leave a note in the kitchen.”

He turned, walking towards the bedroom door. After a moment Emma followed tentatively, walking towards the door behind him in silence. She shot a glance at the bed, noticing the bandages, a tube of some ointment, a key ring, and a few pink roses. She stopped in the small salon, watching Killian open her door and give her a strained smile.

“I'm sorry for touching you, as well.” Emma made a sound of protest, ready to tell him again that he was blameless, but he persisted. “While I couldn't have known, my presence here has never been… convenient. I had hoped that had changed with the new owner. Good day, Miss Swan.”

“Wait -” He looked as surprised as she felt, the words racing past her lips, blurted at the last second. “What is your cell phone number? It'd be easier to get a hold of you that way, if I should need you. Not to say that I will…” Killian stared at her in abrupt confusion, his brows knitting.

“I don't have a phone. The manor has one, should you need to use it.” There was something off in his tone, but her own cell phone had fought every attempt at service on the property, so this shouldn't have been too much of a surprise. The manor phone, she could work with that.

“What's the number?” Emma pulled her phone from her pocket, the screen lighting up. Killian looked amazed in her peripheral, which didn't surprise her. The town was practically medieval, and this phone was the newest of its brand. Emma scarcely knew how to use it.

“You have to set it up later, if you want communication by wire. Your device there -”

“It's an Android, I let the kid at the store set it up for me. If you want me to get you one, I can the next time I go to the city. They have a walkie talkie app that I think might work with a wifi connection once I have that set up.” Killian nodded, looking at her blankly. “Have you ever had Wi-Fi in the house before?”

Killian hesitated, his jaw ticking as he bit into his lip in thought. “I wouldn't know, love. I'm afraid that we’re a bit behind the rest of the world here, I don't believe we know what year it is most of the time.”

Emma laughed lightly, and relaxed a little bit more. “Most of us are trying to forget that it's 2019, so I suppose that's fair. I just enjoy Netflix and the occasional game of Words with Friends too much to go without internet.” Killian looked down at his feet, his face unreadable for a moment, fists balled. When he looked back at her and relaxed, Emma caught a glimpse of pure sadness, a mirror of her own pain, before it was carefully pushed behind walls of his own.

Smiling softly, Killian laughed. “I have no idea what a Netflix is, but you are the Mistress of the estate. I encourage you to do as you wish. If you would like me to have a…” He hesitated again, as if searching for something. “A, er, shell phone, I will gladly oblige if you provide it and give me instruction.”

Emma snorted, and found herself genuinely laughing as Killian’s cheeks turned red. “You're actually funny. Alright. I'll try to get you a ‘shell phone’, old man.” Killian’s eyes darkened, his smile turning almost sour. “Between the two of us, we'll bring some life back into this place.”

He nodded, that same pensive look on his face, almost hidden by his smile. “Yes. Well, taming the estate is not going to be an easy task. I'll help you where I can, should you need me. Good day.” He closed the door slowly, and Emma listened as his footfalls fell away.

Climbing into her bed, the mattress surprisingly plush under her, she bandaged her hand slowly. The roses he'd laid next to the first aid were beautiful, their strong aromatic scent filling the air already. Picking up one of the roses delicately, she sniffed, the full scent absolutely breathtaking. The throbbing of her skin faded, and all at once Emma felt herself relax. She felt invigorated, but her muscles were loose, and she happily moved her things into her room, making sure to place the roses in a porcelain vase.

The rest of the day was spent taking pictures and taking full stock of every room in the large estate. It was exhausting and by the time darkness settled Emma had barely scratched the surface of the repairs needed. Neal had left a large sum of money for her, but this was a giant and expensive endeavor. Back in her room, she started a fire in the hearth and tugged on a robe over her pajamas. Opening the door to the balcony and stepping out onto the cold stone, she stared at the waves.

Never, never in her wildest dreams did she believe that this could be her life. In the moment it was overwhelming, the only silver lining in the thunder cloud that was her marriage to Neal. A true story of a love turned into something poisoned, a once healthy plant that grew into twisted vines, strangling everything in its path.

His hands tight around her neck, the air in her lungs not enough, she wasn't enough. The other women being led somewhere by the red haired woman with green nails, Ari's and Tam's bracelets heavy on her wrist even as she starts to feel herself go slack. The pressure is too much, black spots dotting the air, and somewhere close, another man hooting like some primate - Brown eyes meet hers, and for a moment he falters, fingers loosening.

Emma kicks, kicks with all her strength, and when he crashes backwards she screams, screams like her chest is ripping apart just to resonate this noise, this wail of everything he lied about. It is a trick of light, a symptom of lack of oxygen, a freak occurrence spurred by the old home and poor insulation, bad wiring and mice chewed exposed cables.

Neal looks at her and sighs as Emma can hear the red haired woman and her underling shriek.

“Thank you,” Neal whispers, reaching for her, but Emma's banshee wail is not over and her mouth is a perfect ‘O’ as the rafters shake, tears stinging her eyes. A Swan song, she thinks, the end of her sanity and her life, the feeling of this cry flowing through her like breathing with every inch of her body. Her skin burns too, but not like theirs.

He makes it to her on stumbling steps, a vision from a nightmare, her scream unending even as she stares at him in horror. His touch is like a branding iron, his embrace like raw flesh dipped in salt. Neal touches her face as he burns away, ashes to ashes, his hand becoming embers and dust. This is hell fire, and Emma can't stop her scream long enough to beg for this to end. His lips are against her ear and his last words echo as he falls away, falls to her feet, the building crumbling around them. Her scream ends when the ceiling piece hits her skull, and the world too, finally falls into blissful, silent, cool darkness.

Far off there are sirens, and she can feel the burning when her body is lifted, but for now, Emma prefers the darkness even as Neal's last words occasionally echo through the stillness.

“I'm so sorry, Ems."

Emma came back to herself soaking wet, the rain that threatened from the horizon now in full force. It pelted her, cold, salt rain, pulled from the waves and forced from the sky. She was crying, sobbing in silence, but no one is here to see the rain wash away her tears.

#Courtorderedcake #2019 #September 12th 2019 #Roses #captain swan fic #CSSNS #captain swan fanfiction #Captain Swan Au #cs ff #cs ff au #Tam lin #Fairy Tale retelling #Eastwesthomeisbest

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ineffably-good · 5 years

Text

I Will Follow You Into the Dark (3/10) (Good Omens Fic)

Summary: in which Aziraphale wakes up in a strange, dark place. Crowley calls for reinforcements.

Read the whole thing on AO3 - it’s done!

Aziraphale awoke with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he was on a hard, stone floor. His head hurt abominably, and one entire side of his body was sore, as if he had been asleep for quite a while. He shoved himself up to a sitting position and looked around.

He was in something that looked like a tube station, although clearly defunct and long abandoned. A few spot lights had been clipped to the walls and were burning with a buzzy, stuttering sound, and he could see water pooled up in various areas, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a rat or two in a far corner. Otherwise it was dark, and as far as he could tell, deserted.

Feeling his head clearing a bit, Aziraphale stood and took a good look at the predicament he was in.

The ground around him had been painted with a series of glyphs and symbols in what appeared to be either red paint or blood. Candles were burning at the top of each sigil, and a quick sensory sweep told him that someone here knew what they were doing – they were not only beeswax, but they had been blessed.

He could see no one beyond the circle’s perimeter, at the moment, although he did note a camera set up on a tripod a little distance away. The blinking red light on top told him that it was on and working. He determinedly ignored it.

Aziraphale dug in his pockets, disturbed to find his phone gone. His sigil ring was also missing. Bloody thorough, he realized. He found what he was looking for – a wrapped mint he’d picked up at one of the bakeries this morning, something with a little heft to it. He tossed it carefully at a spot about three feet off the ground where the edges of the circle appeared to be and watched grimly as it bounced off an invisible wall and rebounded back to the ground at his feet.

Could he touch it? Aziraphale wanted to be sure he wasn’t going to be burned or knocked unconscious by the barrier, but he felt he had to try. He moved towards it slowly and edged a toe out to bring the tip of his shoe in contact with it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice said, booming out of a crackling speaker behind him that he’d failed to notice.

The angel froze, then calmly took a step backwards. “Oh?” he said coldly. “And why not? You’ve got my attention – come out here and show yourself.”

The voice laughed. “You don’t command me, angel. Not at all. In fact I think you’ll find the opposite to be true.”

Aziraphale did not like the sound of this at all.

“SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

Crowley lunged for the angel as the light flashed in his eyes but he knew even before his hands closed around empty air that he was too late. How could he not have realized? He’d been summoned before, centuries ago, and he knew some of the warning signs. In retrospect he could see that a few of the strange feelings Aziraphale had been having over the last few weeks – sudden chills, sleep disturbances, losses of balance on the street – were probably either early experiments at making contact or failed attempts at the summoning.

He was a bloody, fucking idiot and he was going to find his angel before one more second went by.

Crowley ruthlessly wiped the memory of the proprietor when she came back with a glass of water, then used his demonic influence to encourage her to close up shop for the day and go, leaving him alone to examine the site of the crime more closely on his own.

He knelt cautiously on the floor and laid his hands flat on the surface where Aziraphale’s feet had been touching, closing his eyes and extending his senses to try to get a trace on where the summoning had taken him. When that produced nothing, he sat up and tried to extend his senses to get a bead on where the angel himself was. He concentrated grimly, casting his energies out in a wide net, trying to locate him.

Where. Was. He.

He finally got a weak sense of Aziraphale, enough to tell him that the angel was alive, but it was muted and dispersed somehow, as if whoever had taken him had him shielded.

Unable to get any more information from his current location, Crowley miracled himself to the Bentley and raced for home.

Aziraphale looked around a bit more, trying to figure out exactly where he was. Something about the room he was in looked familiar; he was in a long, empty end of a tube station, and an old one at that. The end where he was imprisoned was wider than the other, and the track below him was oddly flat, without the usual pits and rails he was used to seeing. Where was he? He knew he knew it. There was no signage in sight to tell him.

Footsteps echoed ominously from down the hall, and Aziraphale squared himself up into a ready stance, relaxed but prepared for combat, as a figure stepped out of the doorway at the far end of the track, too far to make out details.

Looked human, was his first thought. That was something of a relief. He schooled his face into impassivity and waited until the figure got closer.

Another, darker figure slipped out of the doorway behind the man, but he or she stayed back in the shadows. Aziraphale tried to cast out and got a vague sense of demonic energy, but he couldn’t tell anything more.

Crowley slammed into the bookstore, checking the wards as he did so and finding them un-tampered with. He snapped his fingers to lock all the doors and window frames and lower the blinds, then pulled out his phone and dialed Anathema.

“It’s me. I know you were planning to come this weekend,” he said grimly in lieu of greeting, “but come now. Right now.”

Anathema sounded concerned. “Crowley? Is that you?” she said. “What’s happened?”

“Someone’s taken Aziraphale, and I need your help. Get down here, please, as soon as you can. Bring Newt if you must. Bring all your tools. Just get here.”

“I’m on my way,” she said.

While he waited, he pulled a series of books from Aziraphale’s private shelves and set to flipping through them feverishly looking for information about summonings. Most of what he learned he already knew. Summonings relied on sigils, which were, in essence, a drawing of a thought designed to connect one practitioner with one specific entity, be it demon, angel, or something far more obscure. Like a phone number. Summoning was a difficult art to practice, requiring strong intent, precise control, and a high degree of preparation. When done incorrectly, it was easily broken, but when done well it could be very effective.

Crowley hoped to Heav—to Hell—to someone that whoever summoned Aziraphale fell on the less experienced side of the spectrum.

The figure stepped closer; he was a man, Aziraphale was sure of it, tall and perhaps in his forties, wearing a dark suit cut in an older style, perhaps from the 1950s. His eyes were gray and difficult to see behind a pair of round-rimmed glasses he wore. He walked up to just outside the edge of the circle, and stood with his arms folded over his chest while examining the angel closely.

The man had an aura of ethereal power around him, licking at the edges like flame. It shouldn’t have been there. Aziraphale looked between him and the dark, shadowy figure at the other end of the station, considering the source of this power.

“Principality Aziraphale,” the man said, his voice steady and clear. “You’ve been a hard angel to track down. I’ve been attempting to summon you for weeks.”

Aziraphale fixed him with an impassive gaze. “Return me at once, and I will ensure that no harm comes to you,” he said calmly. “Otherwise I can make no such promises.”

The man laughed. “I believe you’re in no position to make threats at the moment, Principality. You see, I’ve made some adjustments to you, while you were sleeping.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “You did no such thing.”

“Just a small injection,” the man said. “A potion of my own devising, helps to make you more, shall we say, pliable to my will? You’re already bound to me, I know you’re aware of it, from the sigils. This inoculation just lowers your resistance. You’re infamous for your stubbornness.”

Aziraphale balled his hands into fists. “What do you want from me, you pathetic wretch?”

The man snapped his fingers and Aziraphale suddenly found his body gone rigid. “Politeness, for a start,” the man purred.

The angel tried to struggle but found he couldn’t move at all. The man snapped again and he shot backwards like a ragdoll, crashing into the far edge of the circle and painfully rebounding forward, landing hard on his hands and knees on the cement.

“Are you going to be civil?” the man asked, “or do I need to have you bash your face into the ground a few times?”

Aziraphale gritted his teeth and rose to his feet again, taking care to keep his temper under control for the moment. “Why am I here?”

“To put it quite simply, I need some of your materials for my work,” the man said.

Aziraphale held his stance and watched as the man stepped through the circle – clearly neither angel nor demon, then, as the circle was warded to prevent entry or exit of either – and then waved a hand almost casually at the angel.

“Freeze, Principality,” he said.

Aziraphale was intensely frustrated to find himself instantly frozen in place, arms straight at his sides, unable to do anything except watch as the man came close to him and produced a bowl and a small knife. He pulled one of the angel’s arms out to a 45 degree angel and made a shallow cut in the palm of his hand, collecting the golden ichor as it flowed out in a stream.

When the bowl was full and the blood had slowed to a trickle, he pressed a handkerchief against the angel’s palm until the bleeding appeared to stop.

“That’s all for now,” he said. “You’ve been most cooperative. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve verified this batch.”

And he backed out of the circle, releasing his control as he did.

The angel frowned, ignoring the sharp pain in his hand. What was the man going to do with his blood? What could this mean? He was certain of one thing and one thing only – it meant nothing good, for either him or the world.

Anathema showed up after the longest two hours in the world. She was alone, and had brought several volumes and a large carpet bag of materials. Crowley tolerated her hug, then ushered her in to the office area, where he’d surrounded himself with books. He was clearly in no mood for chit chat.

“Tell me what happened,” she said, sitting down on the couch.

Crowley brought her up to speed as quickly as possible.

“Summoning is a difficult act, even for witches, and requires quite a lot of power,” Anathema said. “The fact that Aziraphale didn’t immediately vanquish whoever it was and reappear probably means that whoever did this has some skill.”

Crowley already knew this. Likely not some college kids playing around with a séance. The thought had been tormenting him for the last two hours.

“Also, it’s quite dangerous, even if you’re skilled,” she said. “Do you know the Law of Equivalent Exchange?”

“No,” Crowley said. “What does it mean?”

“Summoning an entity invokes a law of exchange,” Anathema explained. “It’s the cardinal principle of the entire process. You can summon a demon or an angel or some other kind of being, but you can’t control the process completely. In order to get what you want from them, you have to give up something of equal value.”

“Right, right,” Crowley said impatiently. “I’ve been summoned by enough idiots over the centuries offering me their soul or their pathetic bag of gold for whatever they wanted me to –”

“Yes, but, that’s the whole problem,” Anathema interrupted, leaning forward excitedly with her dark eyes intent. “That’s what people THINK happens, but the way it actually works is that the summoner has no choice in what is taken in return. You can’t control the process; you can’t decide to offer your soul or your firstborn or your material possessions.”

“Then what?”

“It’s up to the being who’s been summoned! Or, if they fail to make the exchange, the cardinal principle itself will take care of it.”

Crowley felt a brief tingle of hope. “So, in this case, Aziraphale would actually have the power to take his revenge on the person who’s pulled him in?”

Anathema sighed and pulled her glasses off, rubbing her eyes. “Not exactly, no, not revenge. Just an equivalence. It depends what they want from him and how they’ve bound him.” She looked around for a drink and found a decanter on the table in front of her; Crowley nodded her assent as she poured herself a small glass of scotch. “Equivalent. If they take something from him, he can, if he’s aware, take something of equal value in return.”

“So if they do something bad to him, he can take something bad from them…”

Anathema nodded. “Yes. It’s inevitable. Maybe not right away, if he’s bound and controlled, but you can only delay it, not deny it completely.”

Crowley nodded grimly. “Good. That’s helpful. Enough about summoning, though, let’s talk about spells for locating things.”

“That’s what I assumed you were going to want,” Anathema said, with a tight smile. She looked, he thought, like a cross between a librarian and an assassin. It was a good look. “Let’s get down to work.”

#good omens fics #ineffable husbands #Aziraphale x crowley #anathema #anathema is going to be such a bad ass in the rest of this #dark #angst #suspense

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 5 years

Text

Coffee Shop au

Why.... Because I can XD

I mean I could do a whole this guy was working at Hat Manor instead of Flug , Demencia isn't there either and other people are in their place to have this au, but our good doctor and Hit woman are both in this and of course our dastardly Hat man we all love lol, it would not work without the entire crew right...manages to forget 505 for this one pffft maybe he’s Flugs stuffed bear from childhood?

For now let's just focus on Amadeus Black Hat.

(yes named after Mozart and I personally like the name.)

Also focusing on how this all began with him wanting a regular but decent cup of coffee without concerning ourselves on the other details of who would be in place of our favourite characters in his home.

So let's begin.

Early morning, shall we say six, despite being up since five, curtains still closed, our good (not so good) demon was curled up in bed eye closed, grumbling, his pyjamas kept riding up and irritating him and one of his bed socks had come off in the night.

That was another thing that was bothering him, half assedly trying to find it only to discover the damn thing had somehow managed to get on the floor, he glared at said object, how dare it be so far away.

Light peeked around heavy black drapes making him groan again, pulling the covers up over his shoulder trying to settle back and snuggle in pillows that were supposed to be the softest money could buy but today his bed just seemed so ARGH!

"Fine! You win you stupid contraption!"

He snapped at the inanimate object, kicking off the covers in frustration.

(We all know this feeling I'm sure!)

Stretching, bones popping, his yawn much like a cats, small and then stretching to reveal rows of fangs with a curling tongue.

Another glance at his bed sock as he pulled the other off simply to throw it at the offending one while pouting

"Traitor."

So now let's move on to him stripping down to shower as the instrumental of careless whisper plays in our minds and Hat washes himself, soap bubbles and steam miraculously censoring out all the spicy bits, long sweeping shots of legs, hands cleaning his neck and suggestively over two smallish horns protruding just above his brow, looking like he's enjoying his shower way more than any actual person would be.

Waves hand hello, yes hello you there, you can stop drooling now he's out of the shower, in a bathrobe and towel on head despite being lack there of in the hair department.

Toe claws tapping on kitchen tiles, of course he could have someone make his coffee, but he was not ready in the slightest to socialise with the idiots who worked here.

Cupboard doors open, fingers curled around handles, standing there in silence looking over the contents, a clock ticking somewhere in his sterile kitchen.

That's it! He was going out, who in the nine circles could enjoy coffee here!

His bed was uncomfortable, his socks had committed mutiny and now even his kitchen was unwelcoming.

Clapping his hands his suit appearing on him the towels going who knows where, even he did not care!

There was that new coffee shop, it had recently opened, of course he was going to know everything that went on in his town, no one could slip anything past him.

Yes that would be the perfect place to go, being new probably meant the place was not yet popular...hopefully, so then it would not be over crowded, just please don't let it be one of those copy and paste places that held absolutely no charm.

While he was a monster that did not mean he could not appreciate a good atmosphere while enjoying certain beverages.

Heels clicking against marble flooring, cane tucked under his arm, perhaps walking would also lighten his mood, was his lobby always so big?

Hmm perhaps a change was in order.

Upon opening the doors to his home he looked up at the sky, there was a chance of snow or so the weather forecast had predicted, obviously it wouldn’t when he was out.

Black Hat squinted at the clouds, they wouldn't dare.

Of course controlling the weather was not something our miserable fellow here could have charge over and here now we introduce Demencia and Flug, also because I am writing this I've named the doctor /barista Acylius Flug...so... Blep on you.

Now Acylius was in the kitchen, working on making the first batch of muffins, they did not open until at least seven, if they were popular enough they would certainly change it to six to make sure everything was ready on time.

Their café was indeed an inviting place, with deep red walls, high back comfy chairs, circular tables made of dark oak, four books between book ends on each one so someone could read something if they so wished, footstools tucked under chairs and blankets folded on the seats.

Children were not allowed.

Charging ports were optional, though phones had to be on silent.

Wooden beams giving off the impression this place was much older than it was and what art lined the walls which were an assortment of landscapes and portraits Flug would never admit to being their artist.

Demencia was using this job to hopefully pay off outstanding college debts from some years back, there was a two bedroom apartment above the Café where they lived, she got to live here rent free and was still going to be paid.

Apparently her boss and friend was not exactly short handed and sometimes she questioned where the money came from...

Pffft of course she knew about the sedated man down stairs.

"Hey stop panicking gigantor, business is gonna be slow, we just gotta get word out there or listen to customer suggestions, they always like to feel important."

Oh yes did I mention he is also six ft seven and when not torturing keeps his hologuise device off, so you would never compare him to his shorter self with the paper bag and goggles or slight nasally voice...come on now a lot of us have our own design and thoughts on Flug under the bag don't we.

His hologuise has of course been worked so that no one can see his real tall self unless he has it switched off.

"You do not think I am over doing it with the Victorian decor?"

Flug asked awkwardly, while working the white chocolate and raspberry muffin batter.

Nothing was going to come in a premixed cardboard box in his kitchen.

"With that roaring fireplace keeping the place nice n toasty absolutely not, people are gonna love that."

She had a shoulder resting against the door frame and arms folded, watching as Acylius evenly spread the batter into each muffin case.

"Though if no one shows up I am going back to bed, you know you can always join me if you want, help keep it nice and hot."

"Demencia!"

Flug returned, clearly getting flustered a blush forming on his pale skin, placing the tray in the oven, the door clanging shut.

"Now is not the time and anyway would you not prefer someone who does not have a smile permanently carved into their face, I look like I should be quoting Batman Dark Knight lines."

"Awww why so serious!"

The lizard girl teased and only laughed more at his deadpan look only then to be hit in the face by a flying tea towel .

Demencia couldn't help but laugh even more as it was sarcastically followed by

"Oops my hand slipped."

They both paused though when the chiming of the little bell went off, it was their first customer of the day, their first one to arrive at this time...mainly because they actually weren't open yet, not at least for another hour.

Black Hat stood there in the door way, snow thick on his Hat and shoulders, his frown so set in as he shook the cold powder off it could have hit the bloody floor.

The weather had dared to defy him.

Blasted cold wet frozen rain urgh...well this place...it reminded him of a home he’d once known...its styling far too similar it felt like an old parlour , comfortably furnished, a form of nostalgic peace.

The old demon wanted nothing more than to shrug off his coat, put on his fuzzy slippers with bat wings...which of course he'd never in a million years would admit were his and sit by that roaring fire.

(Heh even Mr grumpy pants can be adorable sometimes ;3)

He could hear people around here somewhere, no doubt the kitchen, cane over his arm he walked up to the counter, noticing the empty displays besides a few things in factory sealed plastics.

Sniffing he let out a sigh, a dessert treat was baking, its sweet aroma filling the air, usually our cranky demon here did not care for such things but he would be lying if he said that scent of raspberry and white chocolate with jussst a hint of vanilla did not seem appealing, he could already imagine the tart taste of raspberries on his tongue, wondering how long until those would be ready.

Like kisses from a lover he'd lost so long ago...but that was his story to keep.

Tapping the bell on the desk Demencia came running out paused and went running back, Black Hat rolled his eye and nearly left what awful customer service...when the other one came through, wearing animal oven mitts, he couldn't help but let a small smile form at the corner of his mouth, they were amusing to see on such a tall man...

Time slowed as he turned to face him, like when you see in movies, hair blowing, lighting perfect looking ridiculously gorgeous as the one staring is entranced while the chorus of take my breath away plays out of no where.

He knew that face, pale skin, ebony hair, how did he have the same scars...this man was a duplicate of...

"Sir are you alright?"

Flug asked, shifting as Black Hat had been staring, damn it he knew he should have covered his face up.

Pulling up his white Doctors mask and sighing

"Apologies, I forgot myself, I usually cover them up, did you have an order to make?"

It took Black Hat a moment to come back to reality, clearing his throat and nodding

"Uhhh Black coffee, goats milk-"

"And a dash of Hazelnut!"

Acylius blurted out and froze a moment, crap what if Black Hat didn't like that and he'd just assumed he would and the demon would get mad.

Demencia raised a brow at her friends suggestion, did he just try and finish THEE BLACK HAT'S ORDER!

"Please forgive me sir, I have no idea where that came from."

It was clear while it seemed this man did not remember him, there were old memories lost within that mind, still lingering even in this new life...a part of him still remembered perhaps...he hoped.

"Well there is no need to apologise Acylius, though perhaps I should find out where you are getting your information from."

He teased, leaning in a little.

That made Flug nervous, knocking over the thankfully empty cup, setting it up right again he was about to ask how he knew his name...of course then realising he was wearing his name tag, must've seen it and after all this was Black Hat.

No doubt he knew about the sedated man in the basement.

What our dear six foot seven Barista was really worried about was the demons presence in his newly opened coffee shop.

If the King of darkness hated it no one else would come, then there was a matter of no one else would come unless it was to see Black Hat if he was here all the time.

No that was ridiculous Black Hat would not be here everyday.

So perhaps if this went well, word of mouth would spread that if this place was good enough for Black Hat it was good enough for them and bring in business....oh my god stop thinking and make his drink!

"Please find yourself a seat, I will bring it over, Demencia please turn off the oven, no doubt the muffins are ready now."

"I would like to order one of those to."

"Yes sir, one devil's brew and muffin coming right up!"

Black Hat lingered a moment longer.

Acylius, his Acylius could not have been reborn...no this had to be some peculiar...cruel act of nature.

Karma was finally catching up with him... Yes that was it.

Taking a chair in front of the fire, crimson with a high back, he pulled out the footstool tucked underneath, of course it was facing the counter, he could barely stop looking at him.

Awww our little demon's heart is going boom boom da boom...yes I know cannon wise Hat doesn't have one but that's what Au's are for, free the imagination, anything is possible!

Acylius could still feel his eyes on him, he shivered subtlety, honestly being watched like prey was somewhat thrilling.

All the while though he was concerned he was taking too long to make his coffee as he brewed it and refused to use that instant crap.

(That most of us drink XD)

Turning back , Demencia returned with the display plate now full of muffins, one on a saucer with napkins and small fork.

Placing it on a tray she went on to put the rest where they belonged and noticed the demon watching Flug and grinned

"You like what you see, he's single you know!"

She of course held back nothing with hands on hips adding

"I'm single to but I'm not really looking for anything but come on you've been staring at him like you want him to serve himself on your lap as if he were the most tasty treat on the planet! Long legs, keeps fit-"

"Demencia PLEASE STOP!"

Acylius snapped, blushing bright red, oh god he wanted hell to swallow him up whole, could he just fucking die now please.

" I am so sorry for my co workers behaviour I-"

Flug was so embarrassed that he was completely missing the fact that Black Hat was trying not to laugh.

In any other case he would have simply just left and found it all inane but it was endearing if not bittersweet to see features resembling a lost one look so flustered, he'd always found it cute when his Acylius blushed.

Legs out on his footstool, ankles crossed, he laced his fingers and looked as serious as this entire scenario would possibly allow.

The fire crackling as both co workers stood there in silence, Demencia still grinning, oh ho the legendary master of all evil was actually considering Acylius as a snack!

Of course if her ridiculously tall friend didn't want any of that, she would be more than happy to mount the beast to her wall...bed...any available surface.

Black Hat waved a hand and spoke evenly

"I will let it slide on one condition."

Acylius gripped the tray, where was this going.

"What is it sir?"

"Call me Jefecito."

"But I, you are not..."

He sighed and gave a momentary glare at Demencia, bringing over the coffee and cake.

"Coffee is served, Jefecito, is there anything else you would like?"

"Yes, when I am here, only you are to serve me."

Hat replied, holding his coffee, the bottom of the cup making a clinking sound on the saucer, drinking he felt a comforting familiar warmth spilling down his throat.

"Kinky."

Demencia chirped out.

In which Acylius hid his face behind the tray wishing for death and Hat near choked on his coffee.

#Coffee au #Paperhat #Villainous #villainous au #Black hat #Flug #Acylius

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 5 years

Text

Doomed Lover ~Soonhoon

As requested by the amazing @onlyslightlysmallerthanwoozi

Masterlist

Summary: Cat Hybrid Jihoon didn't think anything of his soulmate bond, but after his soulmates dyes his hair for unknown reasons, he learns just how insane the bond can be. After waking up with red eyes, Jihoon makes it his mission to find his soulmate and change his eyes back to normal, mostly so the kid he teaches piano to won't run away screaming.

Warnings: Racism, threats towards the elderly, and swearing.

Being a hybrid was rare, being a hybrid with a soulmate was even rarer, but somehow Jihoon was exactly that. The barely 5'5” man was a Calico Munchkin cat hybrid, which basically meant he had calico ears that stuck up through his hair and a matching tail, but worst of all, it meant he had very short legs. He made up for being small by being both a music prodigy and a rather scary guy. For the most part, life was pretty good, he lived a few blocks away from his parents and had a steady stream of income teaching piano and guitar to kids.

But all that was about to come crashing down, all thanks to his obnoxious soulmate.

Jihoon was aware of the bond, he did his research and found it to be a rather simple premise; is his soulmate dyed his hair, his eyes would change color to match. Whoever his soulmate was had mostly been sticking to natural colors, except for the sea green, but most people just thought Jihoon looked cool with green eyes.

This, however, this was cruel. Whoever his soulmate was must have not known what their bond was, or worse, maybe they did. Regardless, when Lee Jihoon woke up one morning to find his eyes a bright red, he was floored. Of all colors, why did his soulmate feel the need to go bright red? He looked like a demon, if he wasn't getting jobs because of his Hybrid nature, this was just going to make it worse. He had a student coming in a few hours and he knew the little boy was going to get scared off. In his panic he did the only thing he could think of, he called his friend Seungcheol.

“Woozi-ah, its 8 in the morning, why are you calling me?” Seungcheol complained. On the other end of the phone, Jihoon could hear Jeonghan grumbling about being woken up.

“They dyed their hair, hyung.” Jihoon gasped, still staring at himself in the mirror, in horror.

“Congrats, wait.” Jihoon could practically see Cheol sitting up in realization. “What color?”

“Fire engine red. I look like a demon, how am I supposed to teach a bunch of kids piano looking like something that just crawled out of hell?”

“Okay, first, take a breath, you won't think straight if you're freaking out.” Jihoon closed his eyes and did as instructed. “Okay, look, there aren't many people with that bright of hair, so you have two options. One, you could go track down every person with red hair and try to see if something happens.”

“I’ve got 4 hours, hyung.”

“Okay, then option two. Dye your hair an equally obnoxious color.” Jihoon hated to admit it, but it was a good idea.

“But, hyung, there's no one who dyes hybrids hair, not on such short notice.” He sighed.

“Actually, ever heard of Xu Studios?”

“Once or twice, aren't they some super expensive modeling agency?” Jihoon asked.

“Kinda, the owner, Minghao, he's a friend of mine. And he's a hybrid hairdresser.” The piqued Jihoon's interest.

“I'm listening.”

“Good, Hao owes me a favor, don't ask what. But I'll have him hook you up.”

“Hyung you're a lifesaver.”

“Thanks, I'll text you the address, I think he's only a few blocks from your place anyway. Good luck.”

“Thanks, hyung. I owe you one.”

“No even worry about it, just introduce me to your soulmate, alright?”

“No problem, if I don't kill him first.”

“Keep me updated,” Cheol ordered before ending the call. Only a few minutes later an address was texted to him, Cheol was right, he was only a few blocks away.

Once dressed, complete with a pair of dark shades, he set out, walking quickly to the address. The building was an odd mix of old brick and modern artdeco, and as he walked in the front doors expecting to be bombarded by the smell of chemicals, he was greeted with the smell of flowers. That was probably thanks to the abundance of plants that littered the reception room. Walking up to the receptionist he remembered the instructions Cheol had given him.

“Hi, I'm a friend of Seungcheol's.” The man behind the desk peered at him for a second, and Jihoon remembered the hood he was wearing. Sliding it off, he could hear the other people waiting start to murmur.

“Ah, I see. Minghao will be out in a moment. Go ahead and take a seat Jihoon.”

“How do you know my-” Before he could finish his question the man had darted through the curtain behind the counter. “Name.” Jihoon sighed, taking the empty seat one away from the two older women still whispering about him.

“How does something like that get to be worked on by Minghao?” One asked. Jihoon's ears twitched as they spoke.

“I bet he's done a few favors for him.” They giggled. Jihoon stayed focused on his phone, trying not to hit the old ladies. Being a hybrid was bad enough, always getting kicked out of buildings, treated like trash, and arrested for stupid things, but he knew attacking the elderly would probably get him euthanized.

“You must be Jihoon.” A voice greeted. Jihoon looked up to find a stylish Chinese man smiling at him through a pair of circular glasses.

“I am.” Jihoon moved to stand but Minghao sat next to him, between him and the old ladies instead.

“I'm Minghao, Cheol hyung told me what happened but I want to hear it from you.” The old ladies weren't even hiding the fact they were listening.

“Um, my soulmate and I have the bond where if one of us dyes our hair, the other's eyes change to match, and well,” Jihoon took off his sunglasses, making the old ladies gasp and Minghao's eyebrows shoot up.

“My. That is a bright shade of red. So why are you here?”

“Cheol hyung thought that if I dyed my hair something equally as obnoxious, it might help me track down the person on the other end.” Jihoon shrugged. “I have a piano lesson in a few hours and I'd rather not scare him off.”

“Admirable. Alright, this way.” Minghao, as it turned out, was a very chill guy. He hummed a tune while fixing up Jihoon's hair, and he didn't even grumble when Jihoon's ears twitched while he was trimming the hair on them. He kept Jihoon facing away from the mirror as he worked, which let Jihoon admire the beauty of the salon. The receptionist was doing one of the old ladies' nails, who kept glancing up at Jihoon before whispering something to the man. “So Jihoon, tell me. What do you think?” Minghao asked, spinning the chair to face the mirror. His hair, which had been dark brown, was now a light shade of pink, which contrasted well to the mostly white ears that poked out of it.

“Its, bright.” Was all Jihoon could say.

“Well if you don't like it, you can always come back in a few days and I can redye it. But first I believe you have a soulmate to find.”

“Any idea where they might be?” Jihoon joked as Minghao walked him back towards the front. Minghao just smiled knowingly at him.

“I think you'll find him sooner than expected.” He bade the shorter man goodbye after handing him a business card and ushered him out the door.

“Hey Hoshi, what's up with your eyes?” The question Dino asked, made Soonyoung tear his gaze away from his burger.

“What do you mean?” He asked, and as he glanced at the two others at the table their eyes grew wide.

“They've changed colors a lot in the past half an hour.” Dino continued.

“They're kinda trippy now,” Vernon commented.

“You call that trippy? Looks like whoever your soulmate was fell into a batch of cheery blossoms.” Seungkwan laughed.

“What?” Hoshi cried, quickly picking up his phone to check the color. Sure enough, his once dark brown eyes were now cherry blossom pink. “This must be payback for the red.” He gasped. “But I've got a performance soon.” He groaned.

“Oh yeah, your soulmate bond is the hair and eyes thing. That means your soulmate probably looks like a demon right now.” Seungkwan laughed.

“Well, I've got to find them asap. Cute as the pink eyes are, professor Choi won't find them so.” Hoshi began looking around the diner's lot frantically.

“I'm telling you hyung, I've searched everywhere from Xu's to Gyu's. I've got an hour until this kid’s supposed to be at my door and I'm going to have to cancel.” The voice, for some reason, drew Hoshi's gaze. Walking in, was a shorter Hybrid with pink hair. He was on the phone with someone as he approached the counter. Mingyu, the head chef saw him and waved, starting on an order he must have known by heart. “No, I'm getting a burger from Gyu's then I'm going to call his mom and cancel.”

“Oh great, another hybrid.” Someone at the table next to their's groaned. Seungkwan's fist clenched as Vernon hesitated to eat another french fry. His beanie was hiding the ears that grew from the top of his head, marking him as a hybrid. “Why don't they just wipe the gene out?” The person commented.

“Got something to say, dickhead?” The pink-haired guy had heard everything it seemed and approached the man's table. He was shorter than Hoshi was expecting, but he had an attitude.

“Yeah, I do.” The man towered over the pink-haired hybrid when he stood but the hybrid stood his ground.

“Dude, just leave him be, he's just a racist head ass.” Seungkwan tried to calm the boy.

“No, if you're going to be an asshole, have the courage to say it to my face.”

“What are you gonna do about it kitty cat? Who do you think the police would believe, huh? A widdle kitty, or a human?”

“The police won't be able to do shit when I tear you to pieces.”

“You don't scare me, pussycat.” The man sneered, but his face fell when the shorter man ripped off his sunglasses. “Oh Jesus.”

“Not quite motherfucker, now I suggest you learn to shut the fuck up about us hybrids before you discover one of us whose a lot scarier.”

“That's enough. Jihoon, stop scaring the poor bastard.” Mingyu interrupted, towering over both males. “And you. Get the hell out of my diner.”

“You're favoring the cat boy over a human?”

“He's my friend, you're a racist asshole. Leave.” Mingyu was usually a puppy but Jihoon must have been a close friend of his to get him this steamed up. Once the guy was gone, Gyu turned to Vernon, “You okay mate?”

“Yeah, I'm good. Thanks, dude, I think you stopped Kwan from ending up in jail.” Jihoon turned to the group and they all gasped.

“You!” He and Hoshi cried.

“Why red?” Jihoon and Hoshi were sat just outside of the diner, getting a chance to speak outside of everyone's gaze.

“I'm doing a performance tonight, its about the four elements, I play fire. I was gonna go back to Hao's and get it dyed back to brown in a few days. Why pink?”

“Oh, my friend thought I should dye my hair an equally obnoxious color to make it easier to find you,” Jihoon explained. “But the real question is, how do I get my eyes back to normal? I've got a piano lesson in less than an hour and I can't look like a demon for it.”

“Um, well Vernon and Seungkwan told me you just have to touch.” Hoshi shrugged. Leaning down slightly, he brushed his lips against Jihoon's cheek and whispered. “I'm Soonyoung.”

“I'm going to hurt you if you don't change my eyes back.”

#soonhoon #soonhoon imagines #lee jihoon #lee jihoon imagines #seventeen woozi #woozi imagines #seventeen hoshi #hoshi imagine #soonyoung #soonyoung imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #goodwriterwithbadhabits

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sirbadgerduke · 5 years

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Retrospective Thought: Top Ten Games of The Year 2018

Oi! 2018 was pretty good year games, innit? Maybe not as consistent as 2017 for quality, but I reckon it’s still a damn great year! Anyway, now that all the other Game of The Year stuff has happened, I think I’m going to do my own list, which I’ve done for a couple of years now. Well, let’s get to it, which games blew my socks and which 3 particularly royally blew my socks off!

10) Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth - Hacker’s Memory(PS4/PSVita) Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth is basically Discount Persona with a Pokemon battle system(only with a cooler way of switching moves via a skill bank of sorts). The story, however, is not a follow up from the previous title but a companion story of sorts. You play as a Hacker whose account has been stolen. You embark on a journey to regain your account and to stop the person responsible for the whole thing. The story pretty much opens up as you progress, taking some of the previous game’s plot with a dash of “Alternative point of view” to boot. Hacker’s Memory has it’s downtime moments, sometimes it can feel like a real grind, but leading a team of your suited up fave digimon has never felt better, definitely worth picking up if you like Persona and Digimon!

9) Dragonball Fighter z(PS4/XBO/PC/NS I enjoyed both Xenoverse games, they aren’t perfect and the RNG is real ass with a side of cancer thrown in. People clamored for a new Dragonball Z flavoured, bonafide fighting game. ArcSys delivered on that front, and boy did they really deliver the goods! The gameplay is frantic, epic and balls to wall bonkers. It’s easy to pick up if you just want to fight around with your favourite characters, whilst also in-depth for those seasoned fighting game maniacs. The gameplay is top tier and an absolute pleasure to play. Pick it up if you’re a Dragonball Z, Fighting Game or both fan!

8) Darksiders III(PS4/XBO/PC) I love the Darksiders franchise. I enjoyed the first game, adored the second one, and now I really like the third iteration. Is it perfect? No, is it the best one? Not by a loooong shot, but the game is a blast to play. Following on from the previous game’s style, it’s a companion piece that follows Fury’s side of things during War’s trial at the Charred Council. Fury is one of the Four Horsemen, badasses that do badass shit when and how they see fit. While the first one is a more Character Action experience with Zelda-isms, the second being a reverse of that with a Open World and Dungeon styley, the third, is a smaller game that focuses more on a “Metroidvania” like world with combat feeling a tad like Soulsborne stuff. The bosses are all a treat to fight(well, except one), the world is aesthetically gorgeous despite not exactly being on GoW or Red Dead’s level. Pick it up, give it a whirl and enjoy!

7) Yakuza 6: Song of Life/Yakuza Kiwami 2(PS4) I can write a whole retrospective on this series, I absolutely adore this franchise with all my heart. Yakuza follows the life of Kazuma Kiryu; a form Yakuza big dog trying to live an ordinary life with his adopted daughter Haruka. Now, the story is a rollercoaster of badass moments, heartwrenching scenes with a dash of twists and comedic parts in all equal splendor. The combat, is easily a star alongside the story, solid, fun and very in-depth yet easy to learn. Kiwami 2 is a remake of the second game whilst the sixth game is the final part ot Kazuma’s story. I’d wholeheartedly recommend these titles to those who either have just got into the whole franchise or are veterans to the Yakuza Franchise. Kiwami 2 is also a remake of possibly the worst part of the series. Pick it up if you love great crime dramas with twists and turns around every exposition dumping corner!

6) Hollow Knight(PS4/XBO/NS/PC) Now, I know it came out in 2017, but I only played this game this year, so it still counts for my list. Hollow Knight is a Metroidvania with a Dark Souls-esque style of worldbuilding and story. The gameplay is a pleasure, and the each zone, each area is both unique to one another yet seamlessly interconnected and not too “wild” in the vein of being out of place. The bosses are both horrifying and cute, same goes for the enemies and NPCs you encounter in the game. The music, the art design and the gameplay are all fantastic, quite possibly my favourite indie title since Pyre. You play as a wanderer that happens upon Hollownest, a small, almost empty little town of critters, below lies a dungeon thwart with danger and a terrible past. Any further, and we are heading into spoiler territory. I hugely implore you to pick this little treat up, you will not regret it at all.

5) Fist of The North Star: Lost Paradise(PS4) From the developers of Yakuza, comes an adaptation of a fantastic little Manga called Fist of The North Star, basically Mad Max but with anime martial arts. You play as Kenshiro, the Successor of Hokuto Shinken, a martial arts style of deading folks. While not a completely panel by panel adaptation and more of a single one shot story using the world and characters of Fist of The North Star, the Yakuza style gameplay really lends itself for adaptations like this. The story could easily be just fanfiction, they really made it something more than fanfiction level fanservice. It’s a really good single story set in it’s own little world. The gameplay holds itself perfectly for this adaptation, with a few added crazy kill techniques that you can level to deal out more damage. Buy it if you are either looking to get into this series, or are a long time fan.

4) Super Smash Bros:Ultimate(NS) The flagship “Not a Fighter” fighting game that started as a Nintendo Legacy series brawler to becoming a huge flagship of a video game legacy brawler. I’ve always adored Super Smash, even the previous one(though it’s not particularly jam-packed with content). Ultimate brings back EVERYONE and even includes some newcomers(Who really should’ve been here since at least Brawl), more content than you can imagine, a reimagined classic mode, a new single player and a fun little collecting system called Spirits, this game is a fanservice love letter, and a big one too. It is worth the price, pure and simple, buy it now!

3) Monster Hunter World(PS4/XBO/PC) I only ever played the first one to completion, tried to get into the 3DS titles and thought “I don’t like it” despite loving the shit out of the monster designs. On a whim, decided to World at launch, and boy was that a fantastic decision. I fucking love this game, from the story(simple but fun) right down to how the monsters are programmed to be as naturally animalistic as they’ve ever been, all the while adding in some old and some new beasties to hunt!. I’ve had fun with friends, on my own, raged at certain monsters(LOOKING AT YOU, BEHEMOTH) and spent hours farming for the material to craft weapons and armors I really want. I’ve spent over a hundred years into this game, and will gladly spend the same in the upcoming expansion! Get this game NOW, you will love it, I assure you!

2) Marvel’s Spiderman(PS4) Spiderman is one of my favourite heroes, he’s grounded, he’s tragic, and he feels like a real person. It would stand that a game based on him, would’ve been a huge success(Spidey 2 was great!, Ultimate and Web of Shadows were really good! The others? Eeeeeeehhhhh not so much). Developed by Insomniac, this return to form for the webslinger is a helluva return! The combat is fluid, fun and fantastic, the story is great whilst the City That Never Sleeps is a nice if pricey expansion. But the webslinging, the bread and butter of any Spidey game, is quite possibly the best, better even than Spidey 2 in my honest opinion. The story is superb, and when *that* scene happens? It will hit you like a ton of bricks. The bosses? Probably the best of this year honestly. This is a must buy for any spidey fan, marvel fan, hell, superhero fan of all kinds!

1) God of War(PS4) Usually, a soft re-imagining can be as well received as a Gary Glitter Comeback Tour, but this one? Boy oh boy, this game is a masterpiece. You play as Kratos, older and wiser since his temper tantrum trilogy in Greece, he’s a father again and now must take the BOI on a journey. I really don’t want to spoil it any further for people who haven’t played it yet. The combat is a great revamp overall(I miss doing juggling combos but eh, the rest of the game is steller), hard hitting and brutal like you’ve known before whilst adding a more personalised flair to it. The soundtrack and audio design is steller, as well as the voice acting. Boy oh boy, the story is fantastic too, following a journey of growth(not just for Atreus) and facing one’s demons, it truly is the highlight of the game. More boss variety could’ve been added, maybe a little more enemy variety too, but these are just minor critiques by the most minor of things. Get this game now, you will enjoy it!

So that’s my list, yes i didn’t include Red Dead 2, haven’t completed it, but I’d gladly do a review once I’m done. Another good year of games has ended, roll on the new year, with another batch of stellar games(I’M LOOKING AT YOU, RESIDENT EVIL 2 REMAKE, DMCV AND HOPEFULLY GHOST OF TSUSHIMA!). Hope you have a happy new years, and had a great Christmas!

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minigenos · 5 years

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Holidays, Part 2

Part 1 ― Part 2 (you are here)

Genos plans a romantic holiday evening for Saitama. However, as this is the One Punch Man universe, things quickly start going to shit when monsters attack.

The atmosphere at the banquet hall was relaxed and friendly, though one wouldn't think so based on Genos's expression. While Saitama was nearly halfway done with his food, the cyborg hadn't touched anything in his bowl. He was just... staring at it.

Oh god, not again, the hero thought to himself as he looked over to his date. He's over-anaylizing something again, isn't he?

Saitama knew the only way to snap Genos out of his current mood was to get him to say what was on his mind, much to the older hero's chagrin.

He really hoped it wouldn't be another ten-minute long essay this time.

“Uh, Genos? You haven't touched any of your food yet. It's going to get cold...”

“Oh?” Now that Genos had been brought back to reality, the only thing left to do was brace for whatever he had to say next.

“Sorry sensei, I was just thinking. I should have been able to detect those two monsters you defeated well before we actually saw them. Now I'm beginning to wonder if my sensors are faulty or monsters have developed some way of hiding from them...”

Saitama looked over at Genos. Or, more specifically, the crack in his head from when the hero mistakenly hit it like an alarm clock.

Hmmm...

That might be the reason why his system wasn't working properly.

But it was Christmas, and Genos shouldn't have to worry about something like that. If anything came along Saitama could handle it. Now all he had to do was convince the cyborg of such and get him to drop the subject.

“Ah, yeah, well don't worry about it. They're gone and if anything else shows up I can deal with it, no problem.” Saitama managed a smile to make what he said more genuine, which Genos seemed to begrudgingly buy.

“You're right,” he finally admitted. “I'll just have to make sure Doctor Kuseno checks it the next time I go in for repairs.”

For a brief moment Saitama was exceedingly glad the doctor didn't have any means to contact him – he probably would have gotten an earful from him over damaging Genos in such a stupid way.

With Genos's mind put at ease for now the pair could finally relax and enjoy their dinner in peace.

Except not really.

With Genos's sensors out of commission, everyone was taken completely by surprise when part of the roof and wall caved in and the shadows of a dozen monsters materialized in the swirling dust and snow.

Every single one of the workers fucked right out of the room at the very first sight of the monsters. They definitely weren't getting paid enough to deal with that kind of crap.

“Hm, hm! Well, isn't this a surprise,” one of the monsters said. “Someone who didn't run away for once. Are you too scared to move, or too stupid to know when to get out of the way?”

At the direction of the monster closest to the heroes, the entire group began to move forward well before the dust and snow had settled.

“Well, since you gave us such a warm welcome,” the same monster as before said, “please allow us to introduce ourselves.” Standing before them was what seemed to be an animated tree with two sets of stubby, gnarled legs and one pair of over-sized arms that ended hands with varying numbers of sharp claws. On what could be considered its torso was a giant number “1” while where its head would have most likely been was a circular robotic structure that held a bird within it. One of the bird's eyes and part of its head were robotic while a monocle was somehow held up against its other eye.

With a couple egotistical chuckles the bird spoke again. “We are The-”

“Hey look Genos, it's a cute little pigeon!” Saitama said, completely cutting off the monster. “Do you think they have any bread in the kitchen we can feed it? I wanna go check.”

“Sensei...” the cyborg whispered in what could be considered a pleading voice for him. He tried to grab onto his mentor to stop him, but the man was already out of his normal reach.

“Would you stop that!” the bird monster shouted, causing Saitama to freeze in his tracks. The tree it was positioned on top of lurched a huge step forward in response.

“Oh hey it talks!” Saitama smiled over his delayed realization. “Neat, a talking pigeon”

“I'M NOT A PIDGEON YOU IMBECILE!”

Now that Saitama's focus was solely on their newest adversaries, the hero finally took the time to look over each monster in the group. Thankfully for him, all but one were number-coded for easy identification.

1 – The talking pigeon (“I'M A PARTRIDGE YOU TWAT!!”) and animated tree.

2 – A bipedal, mostly white, turtle with unusually large claws. Saitama could see bursts of pink flames erupt from the limbs every so often. Its number was sewn onto a silver arm band.

3 – One of the most human-looking of the group, this monster had long, flowing silver hair and held a long cigarette marked with a “3” in a gloved hand. Her white boa provided a sharp contrast to her floor-length black dress.

“Oh hey, you look really nice!” Saitama couldn't help but compliment the monster.

“Oh? Tu es un charmeur,” she replied in a somehow italicized French accent.

4 – While the head of this monster was identical to that of a common sparrow, just enlarged to fit the rest of the body, everything from the neck down looked almost boringly human, even down to the black suit and polished shoes. A small “4” was monogrammed onto its pocket square. It might seem rather uninteresting, but this was definitely a high-class monster.

5 – A solid gold-colored, cartoonishly haute humanoid. He probably wasn't real gold; maybe 10k at max. He seemed to use psychic powers to continuously levitate and spin five circular gold blades at speeds fast enough to rip through flesh. Instead of telling time, his watch showed only the number 5 – honestly, there were some days where Saitama could get behind that sentiment.

6 – The only un-numbered one of the bunch, it was literally just a giant goose. Likely it had ripped its marker off.

7 – This monster seemed to have the head and upper body of a black-colored swan wearing a long, iridescent black feathered dress that trailed on the floor. Saitama couldn't tell if it had normal human legs, really long bird legs, or if it was just two swans standing on top of each other. He figured it would be too rude to ask. A black corset with a silver “7” jutting from it indicated where her place was in the group.

8 – This monster seemed... suspiciously human. A burly woman in a red and white maid's outfit, combat boots, and spiked punching gloves marked with one bright red “8” on each one seemed like something one would see at a cosplay convention than with a group of blatantly obvious monsters.

At this point Saitama wished there were fewer monsters because the descriptions of each individual one was becoming extremely tedious.

9 – Saitama had to admit, this monster looked surprisingly interesting. It was a ballet dancer made up of possibly millions of shards of crystal that seemed able to shift and reform its body at will, though most of the time was contorting its body in the approximate shape of the number 9.

10 – This monster seemed like it would again be more at home at a cosplay convention, or even a Renaissance festival. They looked like a ridiculously over-sized elf, aside from the mask over its eyes which turned them into a pair of glowing white dots. A belt held together with a “10” buckle stored numerous smithing tools and picks while the monster held a heavy mallet in each hand.

11 – A massive, completely mechanized hedgehog with a thick black sack for a belly and musical pipes as opposed to quills. Its number was engraved into large gears placed at the monster's hips.

12 – The final monster of the batch, and one of the few that looked like a monster to boot; a large demon drum with rows of spikes along both sides of its body. Based on how easily rubble was crushed into dust under its feet, it was safe to say this monster was notably heavier than it looked.

With each monster finally registered, Saitama had only one thing to say.

“You guys seriously take orders from a pigeon?”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD I AM NOT A PIDGEON!” the bird shouted as his wings slapped down onto the rim of his mechanical nest.

“He's an angry pigeon,” Saitama teased, which resulted in even Genos rolling his eyes. “Oh! Wait, I get it now! It's like the song! How's it go?”

“W...what?” the bird muttered in a perplexed voice.

“FIVE GOLDEN HENS!!” the hero bellowed at the top of his lungs, startling both Genos and the group of monsters. His student was the quickest to recover and pointed out his mentor's mistake.

“No, no, sensei. It's five golden rings. The hens are day three.”

“Are you sure? I thought they were golden hens...”

The pair spent an obscenely long time debating among themselves what item corresponded to each day and wildly failing, while the group of monsters that were very blatantly based off of the song stood. Directly. Across. From. Them.

“What shall we do?” the monster marked with a 3 asked.

“This is getting ridiculous,” the feathered ringleader of the group replied. Together they were no less than a Dragon-level threat, possibly bordering on that of God.

And they were being ignored by an over-literal cyborg and hoodie-wearing humanoid egg.

“Just kill them already!” the bird ordered with a wave of his wing, which triggered the monsters into launching forward – fangs, claws, fire, or tools bared – and bear down on the two heroes.

The sudden commotion was finally enough to break the pair from their discussion. Genos dropped down while his robotic body flared to life, while Saitama merely just turned his head.

“Don't you know it's rude,” he started while balling his left hand into a fist, “to interrupt other people's conversations?” He swung his fist in an arch, which made direct contact with the “1” on the sentient tree, causing the monster to disintegrate instantly. The shock wave from Saitama's punch completely destroyed the other monsters, causing their bodies to be torn to shreds and splatter in a wide arch around where they died. Only two monsters managed to survive the carnage by getting blown back and managing to avoid a fatal amount of damage.

“Get up Golde. We need to get out of here.”

“W... what happened?” The gold-colored monster rose shakily to an approximate sitting position and looked at the other monster. Hen looked pretty roughed up, to say the least. Her dress and boa had seen better days, and the cigarette she had gotten from Par as a gift for joining the Knights was long gone.

The pair had been knocked notably far away from their original spot and landed in a poorly-lit area far enough away from the heroes to escape their notice. A true lucky blessing for them if ever there was one.

“I don't know how, but we survived.” The made a long, pained sigh. “I think we're the only ones who did.”

“But- but you've got to be joking! We're notably weaker than some of those monsters! Heck, we're not even full-fledged monsters like they are-”

“Were.”

“...were... but you're saying we are the only ones that made it out alive?”

“Oui.”

Golde let out a dejected sigh and held his head in his hands. His partner stretched out her hand as a silent reminder for him that they needed to get up and get the heck out of there before reinforcements arrived. Or, even worse, those two heroes found them.

“How the hell did it end up like this,” he muttered to nobody in particular.

Neither Golde or Hen, his female co-patriot, were full-fledged monsters just yet, but were welcomed into the Demon Knights because they fit the rolls so well. Originally they had planned to just wait it out under the other monsters' protection until they had completely turned themselves, but now those plans had been completely shot to hell.

“Well, what now?” Golde asked as he wrapped one of Hen's arms around his shoulders.

“I have some items left in storage,” Hen replied. “If my contacts are still around I might be able to sell them and make enough money to open a store somewhere.”

“Hm? What kind of store?”

“I was thinking... a café or bistro maybe? I always enjoyed visiting those places as a child...”

“Ooh! Can I help?” Golde seemed to perk up at Hen's words, causing the woman to get knocked off-balance. “I've always had an eye for interior design and art.”

“Oui. But first,” Hen said as she readjusted herself, “let's focus on getting out of here.”

Golde had no choice but to nod dejectedly at the suggestion. Heartbroken over their loss but determined to make it out of the shitty situation they now found themselves in, the pair walked off into the night to piece their lives back together again.

On a positive note, the Demon Knights had been swiftly vanquished by Saitama. On a less positive note, about a third of the banquet hall had been demolished. That was a small problem for the heroes. The hall's owner probably wasn't going to be very thrilled over what they did.

As Genos called the owner and tried his best to explain what had happened over the other person's loud swearing, Saitama checked out what was salvageable from the food tables. It seemed only the fruit, vegetable, and one try of miniature cakes were, as those three were the only ones to still have a covering on them. Still, it was better than nothing. The hero picked up the three trays and walked over to a mildly frustrated Genos.

“I called the owner and they will be here shortly,” the cyborg said as he pulled out a Hero Association contact card and sandwiched it between a piece of rubble and one of the remaining tables. “I'll leave a card just in case he couldn't hear me over his own swearing.”

“Good thinking Genos,” Saitama commended his partner. He would have given a thumbs up, but his hands were full from the salvaged food. Genos turned around to thank his mentor for the compliment, but froze when he saw what the hero was carrying around.

“Sensei... why...”

“What? I don't wanna waste food if it's still good. This stuff's still covered so it's fine.”

“Yes, but...” Genos quickly realized any argument against taking the food would be futile, and let out a defeated sigh. “Fine,” he acquiesced, “but what now?”

“Hey, are you two OK?!” a familiar voice shouted from outside the newly “renovated” hall. The pair turned to find Mumen Rider in full uniform with a bag of groceries hanging from a handle bar.

“Oh, hey Mumen,” Saitama said before walking over to the other hero.

“I heard a loud explosion while I was out getting groceries, so I checked out and came as fast as I could. Looks like you took care of... everything... though,” he finished while looking around at the destruction.

“Yeah things got kinda messy,” Saitama nodded. “But, uh, we still managed to salvage some of the food, so that's good.” He hoisted up the trays in his arms to show off to the hero.

“Hmmm,” Mumen mused for a few seconds. “Hey, I have an idea!” He held up his pointer finger to emphasize the fact that he had an idea. “Why don't we stop off at the store so I can pick up a little more meat, and we can use it and those vegetables in a hot pot? I haven't had a chance to make that in ages!”

Saitama was on board almost immediately.

“Heck yeah!” the hero beamed. “That sounds great! You wanna do it, Genos?”

Even though the cyborg wasn't particularly thrilled about how the night had gone, he couldn't overlook the fact that Saitama seemed exceptionally happy over the suggestion.

“That's great,” Mumen smiled. “The store's right on the way home, so it won't take long at all to go in there, get what we need, and head back out.”

The group of three left the hall's parking lot with some light-hearted discussion, and completely ignored the owner of the establishment, who had just shown up. It was probably for the best that nobody was around him in the end; the string of expletives that spewed forth from his mouth could have made even Tiger-level monsters shrink back in horror.

“Alright, took a minute to put together, but here we are!” Mumen smiled as he set the hot pot assembly on the middle of the table. Finely-sliced pieces of beef along with vegetables had been carefully arranged in the bowl which was just now starting to heat up. It would be a little while before everything was ready, but even now the aroma was enough to make Saitama's mouth water.

“Hey, thanks for this,” Saitama said as they continued to sit around and wait for their food to be ready.

“It's no problem! Honestly, I was surprised to see you two out tonight of all nights.”

“Yeah,” the hero replied. “Funny enough, I almost overslept and forgot about it! Ha ha!”

Saitama's last sentence was enough to cause Genos to turn around and give him a mildly stone-faced look. The crack on his head was still very much visible, thank you very much.

In the end Genos couldn't deny that laughing off the incident was probably the best idea, despite the fact that it 100% was Saitama's fault in the first place. Tonight had turned out alright in light of their earlier setbacks, and nobody wanted to ruin it now. Genos merely waited silently for the hot pot to finish cooking as the other two heroes talked about everything and nothing at all.

“Is it done yet?” Saitama eventually asked, prompting Genos to pick up a pair of chopsticks and poke at the food.

“Seems so,” the cyborg replied.

“Aw sweet!” Saitama eagerly picked up his bowl and chopsticks, then pulled out a little bit of every item from the hot pot that was within his reach. Mumen and Genos quickly followed suit.

The pair didn't leave until nearly midnight, and to Mumen's delight cleaned out the hot pot bowl and all the dishes they had used. As the lone hero turned off the lights to his kitchen and living room, he couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. He had only planned on having dinner on his own tonight, but sheer chance had led to Saitama and Genos joining him for the evening. It wasn't anything fancy or extravagant, but he had a great time and hoped the two other heroes did as well.

Saitama woke up with a start the next morning.

They had left all of their food at Mumen's house!

#one punch man #opm #saigenos #genosai #mumen rider #minisfic #holiday #christmas

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phenyxsnest · 7 years

Text

Taste Test

When Dipper and Lucy Ann argue about which animal's blood tastes the best. (Henry: What the fuCK)

Henry comes home once to the kitchen table covered in hundreds of small labeled vials and two blood smeared faces out of most people’s nightmares

On AO3 // On FF.net

Lucy Ann wasn't used to spending most of her time in one place.

Oh, sure, she would sometimes settle down for awhile, but before the Transcendence, a small child living on her own got attention sooner or later, and it was better to keep on the move than try and deal with well-intentioned people.

Oh, she'd played along a few times, but as health care improved it was harder and harder to fake her own death and therefore skip town before someone noticed she wasn't getting any older, or try and blame her lack of growth on...well, just about anything.

Those were a mixed bag of memories Lucy Ann didn't care to open very often.

Right now, with the burgeoning Dinner Crew, Lucy Ann figured she had spent more time in one city than she had in a good century, and found herself with itchy feet.

But at the same time, she didn't want to be too far away from Hank and the others, who didn't understand just what sort of hornet's nest they'd poked just yet.

A trip down to Gravity Falls to visit Hank's family seemed like a good solution. Still within contact, but a different enough location to still that itch.

Which was how she came to be sitting on the Library steps, looking out into the forest with Hank's uncle, the demon.

He was still a bit of a shock, but she was getting used to it. It certainly explained a lot about Hank and his sisters, that was for sure.

Right now, Dipper was regaling her with the story of a batch of vampires he and his sister had gone up against, back when they were still getting into the whole Mystery-Twins-cult-busting business.

He'd been a little hesitant at the beginning to tell the story, as it was about vampires, but Lucy Ann poked and prodded him into telling it.

She'd known that group, and she wanted to hear how they got their asses kicked by a couple of teenagers. Sure as hell had earned it.

“...and so they said fine, they'd play, but if they won, they got to eat Mabel, and they'd get to drink my blood, and...is that even possible?” Dipper asked, turning to Lucy Ann.

She raised an eyebrow at him, an expression it had taken her time to master but was proving a worthwhile use of her time, as it irritated him. “Eating a human? Well obviously,” she answered.

Huffy demon was hilarious, though she didn't let it show. “No,” he half whined. “A vampire drinking demon blood. I know my blood's golden now, and other demons have other colors, and I'm pretty sure some of them were acidic if the way it reacted when it hit things was any indication, so could a vampire even drink demon blood?”

Lucy Ann thought for a moment, forgoing the teasing for the more interesting question. Finally she shrugged. “No idea,” she said bluntly. “I don't think I remember ever hearing of someone actually doing it, and it'd probably depend on the demon. Could you imagine drinking that acid blood you saw?”

Dipper, the demon, blushed and looked away. “Oh,” Lucy Ann said.

There was an awkward silence for a moment before she spoke again. “So? How'd it taste?”

“Lucy Ann!” Dipper said, half in mock shock, half real. Then he grew thoughtful, looking off into the distance, suddenly forked tongue licking his lips. “Like when you eat something that's too hot, when you aren't patient enough to let it cool off first. Tangy. Not sure what would happen if someone other than another demon had tried it, though.”

Lucy Ann made a small hum, looking out into the woods. “...wonder what species tastes best,” she said musingly.

“You can drink things other than human blood?” Dipper asked.

She smirked at him. “You mean you don't know?”

Dipper stiffened and Lucy Ann laughed. “Eh, I'm just messing with you. Yeah, I can drink other kinds of blood. Other stuff, too, if I get blood in it. Human blood just tastes better, and we get more out of it. Guess my vote's for human blood tasting best. Though I don't know, never did get to try demon...”

She flashed fangs at him, and Dipper laughed. “Well, I've never tried vampire blood,” he said. “I don't think demon blood is safe for you to try. Well, mine might be, since I was human first, but...”

“You can try mine if I can try yours,” Lucy Ann half teased, half offered. “Besides, I'm over five thousand years old, I think I can handle a little over-powered blood. Besides, what, you think you taste best or something?”

“What blood does taste best?” Dipper asked musingly, distracted from Lucy Ann's prodding.

“I already said, human,” Lucy Ann said testily, and Dipper grinned.

“No, really, are you sure? I mean, it's not like we've tasted all the blood that's out there.”

Lucy Ann smirked. “Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?”

Henry pulled into the back lot of the Library and parked the truck. Work today had been long but productive, and he just wanted to get dinner started so he could go sit down for a bit.

He crossed the living room, heading towards the kitchen and waving to Stan.

“Might wanna think twice before you head in there,” Stan grunted. Henry paused, one hand on the kitchen door, and Stan waved a hand. “Kid and that vamp friend of Hank's went in there a few hours ago, haven't come out since.”

Henry took a deep breath and pushed open the door, Stan's “Don't say I didn't warn ya!” ringing behind him.

He stepped into the kitchen and froze. Two faces turned to look at him, two faces smeared with blood bearing bloody fangs as they grinned at him. The table was covered in labeled vials and papers, but for all the blood the vampire and demon were covered in, Henry was grateful to note that they'd kept the table fairly clean, save for the occasional random drops.

“Hi, Henry!” Dipper chirped, and Henry had to fight the urge to either facepalm or feel ill, despite his long history with the demon.

“What are you two doing?” he asked instead, hoping against all the previous times something similar had happened that this time there was a good reason for this.

Lucy Ann went to wipe her face on her sleeve and sputtered as Henry tossed a napkin at her just in time. She rolled her eyes and wiped at her face, sitting back in her chair.

“I haven't been that sloppy in ages,” she commented. “Got in a bit of an argument over what tastes best,” she added to Henry, gesturing at the vials and papers. “I don't think we've got any clue yet really, but it was worth it. Oh, and you still owe me blood,” she added, pointing at Dipper.

“Only when we finish the rest, and we've still got three to try,” Dipper argued back. “Quit being so impatient.”

“Um...are you sure demon blood is safe?” Henry asked the tiny vampire, knowing she was older than he could ever be but unable to stop the worried words as if she were the age she appeared.

Lucy Ann waved, as if brushing aside his concerns. “Eh, the dork already worried about that. Just going to get a taste, see how that works out, maybe try more later if it doesn't affect me. If it wasn't this dork, probably wouldn't be safe, but eh, I'm willing to try it. Might be good in a drink. Okay, next vial, what've we got?”

“Unicorn,” Dipper announced, handing over the multicolored vial before downing his own. “Ugh. Tastes like...sugar and horseradish.”

Lucy Ann tipped back the vial and drank, making a face while Henry stood frozen in the doorway, wanting to leave but also morbidly fascinated. “Uck. Yeah. Wow, that's nasty. And saccharine.”

“Right. I...just...try and finish up soon, okay? I have to make dinner yet.” He glanced around the kitchen and changed his mind. “Actually, you know what? I'm going to call for pizza. No, you can't put blood on your pizza, Dipper. You've apparently had enough for one day already. Clean up when you're done, all right?”

Two voices chorused “Yes, Henry,” rolling their eyes as they reached for the last vials.

Henry closed the door to the kitchen and leaned against it, rubbing his face and groaning. Stan took another drink and said, “Warned ya.”

(Lucy Ann did get her taste of demon blood, and acted a bit like the children on Smile Dip, though somewhat milder, a power boost she hadn't been prepared for, and it was agreed – demon blood was for emergencies, times when she needed a power boost, or to be cut with something else. Anything else was too dangerous – and annoying.)

A/N: I got to Henry in the kitchen and started hearing the Gothic Charm School Mistress (@gothiccharmschool) in my head. “Napkins, dear child, Napkins!”

#transcendence au #phenyx writes #comments are love

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terrencelovesmaria-blog · 7 years

Text

Basement tapes (description)

March 15, 1999 Evidence item #265 Pieced together from the Columbine Report and Time's article dated 12-20-1999 (hard copy and online version). Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold are sitting in the Harris home basement-level family room. Eric is sitting on the couch and Dylan's sitting in a chair nearby. They're drinking from a Jack Daniels bottle, which Eric points out. The boys begin to discuss a number of topics; they speak of their hope that the videos they're making will one day be shown all over the world, when their "masterpiece" is done and everyone wants to know why they did it. Dylan: "I'd like to make a thank you to Mark John Doe and Phil John Doe. I hope you don't get fucked." (Eric laughs. Dylan continues.) "We used them. They had no clue... Don't blame them. And don't fucking arrest them. Don't arrest any of our friends, or family members or our co-workers. They had no fucking clue. Don't arrest anyone, because they didn't have a fucking clue. If it hadn't been them, it would've been someone else over 21." They mention the time a clerk from Green Mountain Guns called Eric's home. Eric's dad, Wayne Harris, answered the phone. When the clerk told him "Hey, your clips are in." Wayne - who owned guns himself - told the clerk he hadn't ordered any clips. Eric said his father never asked whether the caller even had the right phone number. Eric says if etiher the clerk or his father had asked just one question, "we would have been fucked.". Dylan: "We wouldn't be able to do what we're going to do." They then talk about Brandon Larson and how "you will find his body". The boys talk about the large propane bombs they plan to use on the unsuspecting students in the school cafeteria. They discuss bombs and two bags of "propane and napalm", and mention Mr. Stevens and the shotgun. "We're proving ourselves," they tell the camera and go on to discuss their philosphies. Eric says he isn't spending much time with his family, so that there won't be any "bonding" and "this won't be harder to do". Eric: "I'm sorry I have so much rage, but you put it on me." Eric then complains about his father and how his family had to move five times. He says he always had to be the new kid in school, and was always at the bottom of the "food chain", and had no chance to earn any respect from his peers as he always had to "start out at the bottom of the ladder". He hated the way people made fun of him: "my face, my hair, my shirts." He's wearing a t-shirt that has the words "Wilder Wein" printed on it -- he references the shirt several times during the video but never explains what it means. [Wilder Wein is a song written by Rammstein.] Eric: "More rage. More rage." (motions with his hands for emphasis) "Keep building it on." Dylan: "If you could see all the anger I've stored over the past four fucking years..." Dylan then recalls how popular and athletic his older brother Byron was and how he constantly "ripped" on him, as did his brother's friends. According to Dylan, with the exception of his parents, his extended family treated him like the runt of the litter. Dylan: "You made me what I am. You added to the rage." Dylan says that as far back as the Foothills Day Care center he hated the "stuck-up" kids who he felt hated him. "Being shy didn't help. I'm going to kill you all. You've been giving us shit for years." Dylan: "Fuck you Walsh." The boys go on to discuss Walsh patrolling Deer Creek (Deputy Tim Walsh primarly works the south end of Jefferson County). The teens then talk about how there's "a month and a half left". They mention Green Mountain Guns again and how they phoned the house, leaving a message on the answering machine: "Your clips are in". Dylan and Eric brag about hiding their tools of death -- and about the close calls along the way. Eric shows the camera a black tackle box with his bomb-making equipment stowed inside. They boast about concocting their plan under the noses of unsuspecting parents and friends. Dylan recalls a time when his parents walked into his bedroom while he was trying on his trenchcoat to see if it would hide his sawed-off shotgun. "They didn't even know it was there." Eric tells about a day he was going to go shooting in the mountains. He had his shotgun in a gym bag: it was in his "terrorist bag, sticking out". When he walked by his mother, she saw the butt of the gun but she assumed it was nothing more sinister than his BB gun. Fooling people was a point of pride for both boys, one they gloat about during the video-taping. Eric: "I could convince them that I'm going to climb Mount Everest, or I have a twin brother growing out of my back. I can make you believe anything." The subject shifts and they begin talking about several people they know. They make a comment about Dustin Harris (or Harrison), and how "everything you say is pointless." Eric: "Shut the fuck up, Nick, you laugh too much! And those two girls sitting next to you, they probably want you to shut the fuck up, too! Jesus! Rachel and Jen.. and.. whatever." Dylan: "I don't like you, Rachel and Jen, you're stuck up little bitches, you're fucking little.. Christian, Godly little whores!" [Hear this and the line above] Eric: "Yeah.. 'I love Jesus! I love Jesus!' -- shut the fuck up!" Dylan: "What would Jesus do? What the fuck would I do..?" (he acts like he's shooting the camera with his hand, with sound to accompany it) Eric: "I would shoot you in the motherfucking head! Go Romans! Thank God they crucified that asshole." [Hear the above 3 lines] Eric and Dylan: "Go Romans!" "Go Romans!!" "Yeah!!" "Wooo!" Eric discusses "Arlene", his 12-gauge Savage shotgun. "Thanks to the gun show, and to Robyn. Robyn is very cool." The boys then decide to take a video tour of "Reb's room" and "all the illegal shit" in it. Dylan backs out of the room with the camera and pretends to be Eric's mother. Eric: (waves at the camera) "Hi, mom." Taping Eric Harris's bedroom, they record a desk with a hutch, where Eric points out a pair of gloves which he says he took from a doctor's office and uses for making bombs. He points out several packages of fireworks on top of a speaker, which is also on top of the hutch. He also calls attention to a soda can with several shots through it, along with quite a few shotgun shells sitting atop the hutch. He then points out a small "black treasure chest" that he calls a "good hiding place". Eric then points out a small bullet that he says is his "first bullet", then in a drawer he shows off a stash of solar igniters, batteries, pipes, clocks, and engines. He pulls out a black two-bell alarm clock that he discusses using to build a bomb with and then takes out what he describes as "completed pipe bombs" from a Home Base bag taken from one of the desk drawers. He pulls out another Home Base bag filled with more pipe bombs he calls the "Beta batch", at which point Dylan mentions the "bunker". Dylan tries to film out the west window but it's too dark outside; all that records is the glare on the window. Dylan: "You can't see it, it's buried there. That's why it's called a bunker." Eric says there are "four mortar grenades, ten crickets, and three Alfa's." He then points out a blue spiral notebook that he calls his "journal". Eric points out a blue spiral notebook that he calls his "journal". Eric opens another drawer, revealing a piece of the handle of one of their sawed-off shotguns. Also filmed in one of the drawers are two clocks which the boys describe as "future bombs". They show off a box of "crickets" -- small CO2 cartridges, duct taped with fuses. Dylan turns the video camera toward the dresser that's against the west wall. Eric opens up a door and points out a "Hell dog drawing" taped to the inside of the door. He says it was given to him years ago. Next to it is a piece of paper on which is written an "Anarchist substitute ingredient list". Eric goes on to describe a "25 pound bag of #8 buckshot" which is inside the dresser, but isn't shown on the tape. Eric then pulls out a BB rifle from what he describes as the hall closet (though it appears, on the tape, to be a closet in his room). He says this is where he keeps his shotgun. He also takes a box out of the closet and tells the camera that this is is his knife. From the box he pulls out a black-handled combat knife in a black sheath. He says that he paid $15 for it. Eric says there's a Swastika on the side and the camera zooms in to show the Swastika etched into the sheath. On the east wall, adjacent to the bedroom door, the teens point out a coil of green wire that they call a "50 foot cannon fuse". They move to the bookcase on the east wall, talking about a "Demon Knight" CD case, which Eric opens to reveal a receipt from Green Mountain Guns for "nine magazines" of 9mm carbine rifle bullets that they purchased for $15 each. Eric then removes a CD rack to expose three large pipe bombs hidden behind it, which he calls the "biggest". Eric then pulls out a black card box filled with "29 crickets" (more CO2 cartridge bombs). Eric then points to an area of the room (though the camera doesn't follow where he points) and describes a "coffee can in the corner which is full of gunpowder". The camera then focuses in on a black plastic box with the word "explosives" scratched into the side, sitting near the north wall of Eric's bedroom on the floor. Dylan mentions how Eric's parents took it away from him. Eric adds that they only took the pipe bomb out of it, and gave the box back. Inside the box the camera shows clock parts, fuses, tools, and CO2 cartridges. They also tape a white plastic file case that holds "nails for pipe bombs, caps to be filled with gunpowder", two boxes of 9mm rounds (50 bullets in each), 12 shotgun shells in a box, another box of shotgun shells, clips for a gun, and webbing. "What you will find on my body in April," Eric tells the camera. Later footage: Dylan Klebold sits in a tan La-Z-Boy recliner in Eric's basement bedroom, chewing on a toothpick while Eric Harris messes around with the now-stationary video recorder. When he's done Eric moves to sit in another recliner with the bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, and his sawed-off shotgun named "Arlene" on his lap. He takes a small drink and tries not to wince at the taste. Eric: (in reference to the Oregon and Kentucky shootings) "Do not think we're trying to copy anyone. We had the idea before the first one ever happened. Our plan is better, not like those fucks in Kentucky with camouflage and .22s. Those kids were only trying to be accepted by others." They go on to talk about how they hate all races: "niggers, spics, Jews*, fucking whites". They also mention enemies that abused them and friends who didn't do enough to defend them. * [Dylan's family was Jewish.] In one segment, Eric and Dylan spend more than an hour discussing their hatred for humanity and their fellow students, whom they vowed to kill. They name some of the classmates they hope to murder [It's unknown whether any of those students were killed or wounded during the assault]. A couple times during the rants Dylan has to warn Eric to talk more quietly so as not to wake Eric's parents who're sleeping upstairs. Eric: "We need a fucking kick start. If we have a fucking religious war - or oil - or anything. We need to get a chain reaction going here. It's gonna be like fucking Doom man - after the bombs explode. Tick, tick, tick, tick... Haa! That fucking shotgun (he kisses his gun) straight out of Doom. Go ahead and change gun laws - how do you think we got ours?" The boys talk about starting a revolution of the dispossessed. Eric: "We're going to kick-start a revolution." The teens discuss coming back as ghosts to haunt the survivors, to "create flashbacks from what we do and drive them insane," Eric tells the camera. Eric: "You guys will all die, and it will be fucking soon! I hope you get an idea of what we're implying here. You all need to die! We need to die, too! We need to fucking kick-start the revolution here!" Dylan: "The most deaths in U.S. history." Eric: (kisses his shotgun) "Hopefully." Dylan: "We're hoping. We're hoping. I hope we kill 250 of you. It will be the most nerve-racking 15 minutes of my life, after the bombs are set and we're waiting to charge through the school. Seconds will be like hours. I can't wait. I'll be shaking like a leaf."

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glopratchet · 4 years

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jase

page 14,067 You think to yourself "with enough time, anything's possible" brush your teeth Well not everything As hard as you try, with your pass-able looks and natural charisma, you couldn't convince a regular girl to settle down with you There was of course the time you got close Really close You could almost taste it But events didn't quite turn out in your favor, giving birth to your desire for revenge against these menacing criminals that took everything away while keeping the status quo in the background, you prepare the vehicle for tonight The heavy modified hoverbike sitting in your parking space in the Apartment-Boat you call home could bu handy if anything happens tonight A quick look in the mirror and you make sure your kutte is straight Time to fire this festering hole eventually door shuts behind !!!!!" "What did you just say?" You bend your head to your scruffy looking "girlfriend" "Darling" "I said he, are we or aren't we eating an alligator burger tonight?! Come on! We are going to be late! her fingernails nervously as she wears her construction outfit in your room She didn't work to day, but instead wanted you to show you this new opening at a Gallery You roll on the bed and sit up to catch a napping Cello, "uhh I dunno Bri, I'm supposed "No excuses! We are going, be ready, meet me there, DON'T BE LATE! Whole alligator dinner , assemble or eat Last weekend on my break from capture the flag, I stayed with my father, and his new bride "Darling" has no blood relation to me, but she feeds me bugs everyday and lets play near the construction sites We love to ride the huge trucks and dump them Once we were playing catch with a grenade since we thought it was a medicine ball Right before it blew up, dad came running at us with his eyes bigger than us Now that I rely use some filters and stay near sea I do not get to eat opening acts 4 minutes ago Well back in the day, I had an assassin try to take me out at their main encampment This was years ago when the ED and GC were still allies My public reason was to get some fuel for the trip to Nine-Oak, my real motive well to this day I'm not quite sure but it must've been important since I honestly thought I wasn't going to make it out of there and owner Door 5 The smell overtakes the sensors While 4 channels show a heavy dose of psychosis swinging back and forth with tylium injections, a brighter side appears You nearly see hope Her quarters are the large one at the top of everyone's screens covered with a one way window; perfect for spying and collecting intel, while maintaining necessary top security Also, you instantly recognize this families logo Your mind draws a blank then slowly; a blurry memory resurfaces ! Now! The writing on the walls is like no language you've ever seen, but you can make out a few familiar shapes Your mind struggles Zukhara? No, much older "Darling" hasn't moved an inch Quickly she grabs the image of an alligator in a fine crafted cherry wood frame from the wall and throws it on the floor with a loud crack The mirror and painting lay shattered and displayed on the ground or the paintings for dinner? And that other thing, whatever it was Be my guest! You pull yourself out of the seat and slowly walk to an empty space on the wall where you open a hidden safe Typewriter and stacks of cash fill the drawer as you sit down and start writing a note While your writing doesn't exactly look like calligraphy, presumably this will still be counted as "artwork" finish it and then mount it on an alligator skin I believe? Well if it'll honor you prefer the skin? Nothing's stopping you now, assuming he is on the level then both will be coming from our rations tomorrow night along with a bottle of 1975 empire Zinfandel which should make a fine adhesive, provided the gluing is up to the quality of your current paintings Your collection should look flawless The door opens as a slight breeze pushes it further into the room pay money to own some of that, shining in black frames on the red walls, alligator skin flooring and a genuine Empire zin Please give our compliments to genius chef as soon as he has time Research Assistants - University of Progensberg Your art is now top secret Even if anyone thought the colorful swirls were anything more than bits to be analysed they wont get far before it's taken out of general circulation , good thing arnt they one of the few human like species discovered it'd be a shame to see them go extinct before we had a chance to eat them Year 595 Research: While the painting sub branch isn't exactly mundane, you don't feel like it's enough creative outlet for today How will this help forging a GC post extinction legacy? You need to be doing more smelling faintly of paint and on most occasions you see red, blue or purple flash before your eyes Congratulations, after 500 years since the inception of the project it appears urantra brain secretes some kind of purple pigment for decoration purposes At this point we don't care, just take it and inject it into your veins almost as much as a fine bottle of empire zin The purple lightning strikes outside seem brighter and warmer these days, might just be the drugs talking though Almost done with this batch and then it's a few months of off book research Wanna come with? to EAT animals but not ok to EAT people or OTHER human like species, or elves or anything like that After rereading Anecia's speech you realize how close the average person is to becoming their food source Hopefully this research will earn a bit of trust that you aren't planning on eating them probably I heard that! And no im not coming with you, ill just be here waiting than they'd want to hurt Anecia They are essential for milk and cheese after all That being said, when your racing home after a hard day at the lab, hoping that tonight might treat you to some Anecian Stuffed Peppers, how often do you think about where the meat in that casserole really came from? And where did the cow come from anyways? Was it just walking around one day when it decided to become lunch? ? plus they taste good You were always told that dragons where monsters that scorched the earth and sky alike but now your standing here arms deep in a corpse of one The first dragon you've ever slain, and its wings are actually alot smaller then you thought If your parents could see you now, how proud they would be They'd probably question their training however, and rightfully so but still you had this one in the bag all along to realize, be it hook, spear or net, the dragon had little chance of escape With your own particular set of skills, you have this wyrm failling to a blow from above Year 600 You meet mr Average Person (read:secretary) early in the week with the to-do list every sunday you have to go over everything with him and give some sort of idea of what the team is going to work on two months from now or the intense studies of the Purple ichor's amazing healing properties? Question 6 (1,798 voters, tcoh_input@yahoo com) Hello nice to meet you roommate! tell me about yourself Name: Sun LiRace: Black TrollClass: PlayboyER demigodSTR! 30INT! 30WIS! 40 AGI! 50LUCK! 70SKILL! 56TRAIT! 18 let's see your father ran before he took you away Since that is no doubt who your roommate is let's see if we can figure that out There are roughly 100 students at this school about 25 are demi human and half of them are races that could easily be your roommate (or would that be roommers?) Of the remaining human race half of them are girls hmmm 1 in 4 now that probably isn't right If your more of gun nut check the lastest firearms at [kroger market] beer !!! if i were a teamate in this, what would my role be? (ans: Captain Kirk) if you don't find the quest fun anymore you can get The big you go, the harder it gets and more danger you're in with the law getting in your way many snatchers have been shanked because they tried to use deadly force Common based snatchers are in it for a quick buck, so as such they won't try to take on an entire orc tribe by themselves They'll hit lone caravans and small to mid sized groups of merchants Most cases the black market isn't a criminal underworld full of dangerous felons and relentless mana-vampires as it is a bunch of bored immortals trying to pass the time One of these things is the demon market, located in the third layer of hell (dashit) , with a 50% savediscount! As the thief harvest goes on, something a bit odd stands out to you In each and every case of missing persons a lot of them were last seen in the area around Kroger's region That supermarket is either running a regular scam or is involved in this somehow It wouldn't be the strangest thing you've seen, and it certainly wouldn't be the worst crime organization By questioning the store manager, it becomes clear that he knows exactly what's going on at your supermarket The hell is this? This smelly bigfoot goes by many names, from dogman, to the grizzy, to bigfoot, yet in all cases it is all the same creature Some say it's a werecreature of some sort while others believe them to just be a rare species that has managed to avoid discovery all these years But fact is, they look like bigfoot and that's good enough for you with the scope With this mode, each gun has a different "feel" to it You'll need to spend some time with this to master precision shooting There's aiming on the move, finding your range, and many other types of shooting Since you've only got the one shot, make it a good one To shoot or not to shoot With a deer carcuss near it You find the creature standing outside for some reason with one shot Not such an easy task, considering you're pretty far away Your standard iron sights are going to have to do since you don't have an optic for this gun It's a bit tough since when you use this gun from the hip it's over 20 pounds, so getting your aim steady is important Fortunately for you there's no wind so you just have to account for your lateral movement and launch the round There's fur, blood and entrails everywhere It's easy meat to take back and sell, which is important, because you're not getting it for free after your hunt congrats op you've more than doubly profited from this encounter Choose: deer skin or alligator skin Oh ick totals Maybe this game would be a little easier with higher caliber guns, or at least ones that can accept scopes The noise really isn't worth it though since all you're doing is driving away any game in the area In the future it might be worth going furless, but for now all those useless bits can be turned into ichorium explosives , as usual So, loot and sell the gall bladder, liver, heart, intestines and maybe even a tooth or two Keep these offable parts in your pack until you get home, then put them in the fridge If you need more storage get a cooler or upgrade the house comes, sell more parts to him then cook dinner for you and your buddy While preparing the meat for cooking have some guests come over They brought a few six packs of brew with them Go ahead and share the wealth You should put it in your new fridge After eating, showing off a bit and having a generally good time its time to hit the hay You fell asleep on the couch so move yourself to the bed at 12 99 a person Ohh monetization Tonight's profit: 2168 ichorium shares, 8 silver, 4 quarters Days passed in the marsh and you still don't have Clyde or Fen just a lot of wet feet You do however have eaten everything in your fridge even the bait, so you're going to have to get more food or eat something inedible again like the alligator fleshes you've got hanging around The thought haunts you throughout the day and night It's really throwing off your concentration, you can't wait for this time to be over so you can bag a couple of wyverns First thing in the morning you sharpen your rifle and put on your pack This is going to be the day Not once, but twice people from the fort come and see if you're around and suddenly everyone wants to see me And they'res not just a few people they're like 18 of them You were out hunting so you weren't around to whlect their calls, replys or even show up while prying eyes were watching Instead they get your mildly annoyed brother in law to talk to them They leave dissapointed and unanswered Then you jump in and make things worse You wander into the fort to pick up a few things at the store and who do you find there? The same two wyvern jockeys that approached you To your surprise they knew you were out here, but even more surprising was what one of them said while the other looked on in silence "We would've been better off if you hadn't helped us at all Did I really do that much damage? You tried to wave them off and assure them of the contrary but they left shortly there after You could only hope they would come to appreciate what you did for them in time Just then an all too familiar symbol caught your attention, staring up at you from a wanted poster it was Clyde! Or rather Commander Ram himself If you wore a mask around here people might mistake you for someone else But what does it say about us that someone like him was able to take charge in the first place? You were Clyde There was no denying it But you couldn't hunt him down, not after what happened The poor sap that did finally catch up with him on that wanted notice looked a lot like Mason, even had a family resemblance It wasn't him, but it could've been What would you do if you found him, put a gun to his head and drag him back? It was a tempting idea but he probably wouldn't get far and in your current mood you might not be able to bring yourself to help if someone else was beating him to within an inch of his life It was shameful, but the best thing you could do for him right now was stay away However he still needed to be brought to justice, the way he was gallivanting around the countryside rounding up god knew who and throwing them in his cells was bad for business People would begin to unite against him and that could be far worse bandits, mercenaries, wary townies, kobolds all with one collective ideology: Fear Something you only engendered towards yourself and justified with your greater purpose To lose that power could cost you your survival! No, Ram had to be brought to justice, but not by you The best way of erasing your past was to put some distance between it and yourself You'd head west, maybe head out to sea or even up north to where the gnomes and their contraptions came from A new frontier, there had to be one yet untapped But before you could begin your new life you had to make one last trip out to the woods and see how Detlaf and Ranon were progressing on their logging town (You didn't want to go out there again ever but beggars can't be choosers ) You found them both cutting down trees like it was going out of style, which with the influx of new settlers it very well might Seeing you ride up they finally take a break You didn't really have to, but it was a convenient excuse to just sit there pulling up your shirt sleeve and scratching at your glowing badge of honor Your beam of light may have been gone, but it would never fade from your arm You came to accept that, you only wished you could do the same with the scars that wrapped around your back Still, the badges were going to come in handy as you've managed to use them as a conversation starter "See something you like Mason?" Ranon playfully sneered while waggling his eyebrows He probably didn't even realize what he was doing but you just let it slide and carry on with what you needed "That town you were working on looks like its coming along well "Town?" Ranon said with some pride "Haram, it's a city now King Sylvester himself stopped by recently to give his official endorsement Lot of people flooding to it You were genuinely happy for both of them but the news did stop you for a moment A whole another kingdom? If a place that big could form that fast just from one bandit gang then wherever you end up things were going to be very different Actually now that you thought about it considering how big the kingdom must be there was probably anothere bandit gang somewhere else doing much the same thing you were Bandits: Been there, done that It probably hadn't even been a year yet and already the game was up Well in for a coin, in for a Rai-ken You had made your decision and your destination doesn't matter as long as its a new frontier and they needed doctors right? Well maybe you'd stick to frontier clinics, but that was still medicine Might even get to put those old bandit skills of stealing from the sick for the good of the community Time would tell In any case you had some people to see and from there you'd make your plans Your next destination was Rask and then beyond it! Or so you thought Funny how things worked out, but it was the calm before the storm You laid down to sleep on your bed one night and then you heard a loud noise followed by the house shaking as if there was an earth quake going on Your rabbits in a stew because none of the furniture broke but everything ended up in disarray and broken pottery was everywhere One of your manticores came running in from one of the other rooms having been spooked by the noise if the trampled flower vase and rolling obei seeds meant anything You were still half-awake and pretty startled yourself, but instincts kicked in and you moved towards your rifle, thinking it was hostiles or something By the time you got into the living room and realized what happened it was over And just in time too, because you heard Naji let out an unearthly shriek of pain from her bedroom next door

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