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reptilian-angel · 4 months

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The Cafe' Prince & The Killer Cook Pt. 1:

Chapter One - "Egg on your Face" Mega-Omelet

ME: Blitzø, having suffered a the worst day of his life, finds an unexpected silver lining when he awakens inside some random cafe hosted by a sweet (if oddly articulate) little girl, Via and her chef daddy, Stolas (Who looks like Hell on Wheels and cooks just as good, but who gave a shit.)

Later on after this chance encounter, a completely unanticipated offer might just be what Blitzø needs to turn his trashfire of an existence into a lifetime of amazing food, exciting moments and maybe even . . . Love?

Stolitz fluff, food chain puns, good food and healthy doses of angst await you at the Stars & Stir-Ups Cafe’!!! (Yet to be named)

Inspired by Pink Lomito’s ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE Stolitz Cafe’ AU fanart and written with their blessing, so I can only hope this will live up to the hype! (Displayed Below)

Full disclosure, I DO bake as a hobby, but I am NOT a career baker so most of descriptions of any foods mentioned, cooking and otherwise, will totally be written by an author completely in the dark, so please be gentle with any criticisms regarding any of the cooking displayed here. (Also see the end of the chapters for the recipes used, or at least the closest comparisions.)

Get Your knives and forks ready, you sinners & saints, and please enjoy!! I owe nothing!!!

Normal P.O.V.

When Blitzø woke up, he was automatically confused.

He had expected to be face flat, ass up on the shitty, grime covered flour of the bar he had trudged into last night like he had only hours to live. It had been a record-breaking shitty-ass day for him and he decided, like the many, many bitchy broke losers out there who had had their dreams squashed and trampled on like gnats in Hell, to drown his sorrows. Burning $ouls like tissue paper, he had began going for broke, mooching off other patrons and drunkards, earning petty shots in impromptu contests and maybe even performed a small strip tease for a gaggle of succubi and incubi.

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure how it ended, although he did have a vague recollection of plowing his dick into one of the incubi in one of the nasty as fuck bathroom stalls and wondering if the greasy pump soap could be used as lube before fading to black.

Christ on a Pogo stick he had REALLY gotten fucked up, didn’t he?

That said, he wouldn’t have been shocked in the slightest if he had found himself upside down, half- naked and definitely robbed of his wallet and phone in some shady alley at the crack of dawn. Yeah, that would have been normal for him.

Waking up in a plush, fancy-pants booth with a soft, comfortable quilt thrown on top of him was not.

He began leaning up to try and get some sense of where the fuck he was, but everything between his ears immediately started to bitch at him with an acute, relentless thrum that felt even worse than the headaches Moxxie gave him while bitching at him. On a good day.

He gave a low groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in a sorry attempt to dull the throb. He swore everything was hurting, his horns were hurting, his scars were hurting, fuck, even his brand was hurting -

“Fudge.”

That innocent correction almost made him tumble out of the booth. He barely smacked his palms against the floor to keep him from actually falling face flat on its surface. Points for highly trained trapeze instincts. Centering himself, he found a pair of big, bright pink, and admittingly cute eyes of a little owl demon looking right at his.

Even with him being upside-down, he could tell they were a girl; maybe four or six, with a messy nest of long dark hair let loose save a small ponytail tied up on the side of her head with a scrunchie covered with moons and stars and a simple pink jumper with white stars of various sizes printed all over it.

It had taken a second for his hungover brain to figure out she was an owl, the white heart-shaped frame of her face like that of an owl’s a dead giveaway. The way she blinked at him only cemented that conclusion. She blinked calmly at him, despite how fucking weird he was sure he must’ve looked as a middle-aged, hungover, hot mess sleeping in what he just know fully realized was a restaurant booth.

Feeling caught off guard for a number of reasons, he could only respond with, “Sorry?”

The Little owl gave him a reproaching look, or at least as close to one as a toddler could manage. “‘Fudge’. You said it wrong.” She stated in all seriousness. “You’re supposed to say ‘fudge’ when you say the ‘F’ Word. Otherwise, it’s not polite.”

“Says who?” He asked.

“Says my daddy.” She said proudly as if she was referring to Lucifer himself. “He says ‘Politeness is the-” She paused, her face scrunching up in concentration, “- ‘Per-Ah-Get-Ive’ of sensible young demons’.”

He gave her a small smirk. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“What’s what?”

“Whatcha just said – Know what it means?”

He had expected her to respond with a "yes" as all little hellspawn do to prove they were just as smart as their parents who most of the time are dumber than the garbage man, and of course be all snooty and snobby about it too.

But, amazingly, she shook her head so much her hair flew in both directions. "Nope! But my daddy taught me that word. Which means it must be a smart grown-up thing to say. My daddy's all grown up and smart so it makes sense to try and apply it to my everyday 'Wing-guess-tics'."

"Uh, 'wing-guess-tics'?" He repeated with a smile.

The little owl nodded. "You know, the way you talk and how you sound to other people. Don't you ever take pride in how you sound towards others less proud of themselves?"

Blitzø sure as hell didn't. In fact, good mood or bad, he couldn't give two shits in a Gluttony Ring brand crapper what every other piece of shit thought about him or the way he talked. Which is exactly what he should tell to this innocent, sassy, too precious for words little oh satan's taint, he was too hungover for this.

Getting up at an old man's pace, he grunted, "I don't really have an answer to that, ow."

Okay, sitting up straight didn't quite stop the ache, but it wasn't harping so badly now.

The little owl made a sad sound. "That's too bad. Everything needs an answer."

"Does it?" He asked while once again pressing into his eyes to try and settle his headache. She gave an affirmative hum.

"They do. Sometimes."

Blitzø gave up trying to squeeze his eyeballs back into his brains and gave a slow roll of his neck, breathing with the small audible stream of cracks that followed. "Yeah, well, sometimes is better than no times I guess." Once his neck didn't feel so stiff, he looked down at the little owl who still was blinking up at him. "Hey kiddo?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, uh . . . Can you tell me where we are right now?" Geez, Blitzø, you need a little kid to tell your dumb, hungover ass where you crashed? Talk about hitting rock bottom.

She giggled like he had just told a funny joke. He admitted, even with a headache, the sound was nice to hear. "You're in our cafe, sir. Mine and Daddy's cafe. You've been here ever since last night."

He felt embarrassment collide with exasperation in a wave that only incensed the pounding in his skull. Grreeeaaat. Now he had to deal with a bitchy dad that could probably make a Karen more bearable. And considering his crappy luck, he could probably give Moxxie a run for his money when it came to whining and botching. Like he didn't have enough of a migraine already.

To distract himself from the imminent ass-chewing, Blitzø decided it was a good time as any to take a quick peek around. In case, things went tits up, he should know how much he could tag with horses and dongs later.

Look all over, he had to admit . . . He was pleasantly surprised.

The cafe was definitely a little ritzier than almost every other diner or bistro in Pride, at least the ones run by imps or sinners. It wasn't an 'in-your-face-so-suck-it-bitches' bourgeois nightmare that you found on the cover of rich people magazines, but it was still easy to smell the $oils that had been burned to buy the number of furniture and appliances that filled it. Pristine designer steel tables, floors tiles so clean you could eat off of them, cushy warm booths like the one he was sitting in that felt comfy enough to be small bed; yeah, this place made the local Hellbucks look like a gas station men's room (Which was also, coincidentally, one of the many places he would periodically wind up in after a bender).

He could probably make off with one of the tablecloths - Made with actual fucking linen, not rag or crappy burlap - And the money he would get for it would easily pay off his non-existent mortgage.

The walls, covered in perfectly intact, shiny wallpaper that was neither covered in mildew nor aged and peeling, colored the interior with a tasteful cream and vanilla striped pattern. Each dark strip of cream had subtle motifs of shooting stars, little crescent moons and cheery spiraling suns. The cushions seated on each chair and the fabrics of the booths were royal blue and spotted with muted violet stars, all differing sizes, each cleaner than the back seat of an Imp City taxi cab. Plus, no springs popping up to try and fuck him in his little red hole.

He then noticed the bar. A quaint but spacious counter as long as Blitzø's body and tail combined, a simple but pricey cash register at one end, with matching leather stools lined up perfectly beneath it. A large glass case half the size of his van sat at the other end, the inside holding shelves of numerous plates of decadent-looking desserts and pastries that drew an expectant grumble from his stomach.

It wasn't his fault, the last thing Blitzø remembered having that was even close to food was some outdated peanuts and the olives he wiped from some douche who had ordered nothing but martinis that were drier than Wraith in a heatwave.

And he normally hated olives, Christ, he must've been fucked up to devour those things, pit and all. Fuck, did I bang the guy who ordered then too?

Okay, not the priority right now, Blitzø. Especially with the cute little kid in front of you whose dad is definitely gonna throw you out on your ass the minute he sees you -

"Oh! Daddy's awake! Good morning, daddy!"

Fuck.

Blitzø jerked his head up at her cheerful greeting, opening his mouth if only to curse at how his head throbbed in response -

— Only for it to immediately die when he caught sight of "Daddy" coming into the cafe'.

Fuck him twice.

The demon that had stepped into his view was, hands down and pants down if his belt was loosened, one of the most gorgeous demons he had seen.

And the tallest, Jesus Christ.

The owl demon was as tall as a tree, with legs for days ending in jet black talons that clicked delicately against the immaculately clean tiles as he strode over. His body was much, much thinner than Blitzø had expected, delicate and lithe with sinfully svelte curves around his well-rounded hips that he felt an instant, barely concealed urge to wrap his legs around and squeeze. His upper body was just as long, lengthy frail arms that grew like willow branches from his shoulders with dainty but large hands and fingers that reminded him of spider legs as they moved and were just as dark as his feet. They were probably as soft as that little fluff of feathers that peeked out on his chest.

Looking at his face, he was slightly taken aback at the sight of not one but two pairs of eyes peering back, although the second pair were smaller and placed higher on his forehead, just as wide and bright as Via's, but instead of pink they shone with crimson and were as opaque as a ruby. It was obvious who this little girl got her looks from the most; the same dark spot at the tip of his beak, and the same shade of grey blue feathers, only his grew darker in hue as they climbed up his very lean throat, combed into a neat and very trim style that clearly was given a lot of attention. The only blemish to it would be the bold streak of grey that cut through the feathers which easily gave away his age, but somehow that had actually improved his looks as it contrasted the young (and pretty) features of his face.

His outfit wasn’t too extraordinary but still, Blitzø felt himself growing warm at the sight of the white button up dress shirt and the open cranberry pink waistcoat the owl was currently snapping shut dexterously and simple dark slacks that hugged his legs perfectly.

Fuck. I was once woken up with V wearing lingerie that was made pretty much just string but this guy is dressed like a fucking waiter and I wanna lay him flat on the counter.

Blitzø was suddenly that much more thankful for the blanket covering his lap, because he was sure feeling the telltale signs of a growing boner.

Oh well, he was sure it would go away once this guy started to whine about having to deal with a drunken piece of shit first thing in the morning -

The tall owl, even with the slightest of sleep still clinging to it, smiled warmly and brightly at his daughter. “Good morning, my Owlette.” Blitzø felt himself once again be knocked off guard by his chocolaty, silky tenor voice, the sound of it sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Fuckhim three times, he sounded hot too. Satan, this sucked.

The owl’s pleasant chuckle only added to Blitzø;s horny chagrin. “I see you beat me down to the cafe’ today. I hope you slept well, my Starfire.”

The little “Starfire” nodded happily. “I slept good, Daddy! And so did our guest!” She gestured innocently at the imp, who then tensed at being put on the spot by a kid. “When I came down to check on him, he was snoozing like a kitten!”

Blitzø, of course, made a face. A kitten?

It went unnoticed by the little owl, but not by her father who gave her a stern, but still soft look. “Via,” He started. “You didn’t disturb our guest while he was sleeping, did you?”

“Via” quickly shook her head, he feathers swinging side to side in a flurry. “Mh-mm! No, Daddy, I promise I didn’t! I was real quiet until he woke up and said the bad thing wrong.”

He blinked at her. “The ‘bad’ word?”

“One of the words that Mummy used to -” He explanation was abruptly cut off by her father’s wincing and his hands waving the universal sign for stop. “O-oh, alright, alright, sweetie, I understand, no need to go further!”

Blitzø watched them quietly.

Huh. So pretty boy had post-marital troubles with the little former wifey, huh?

Yeah, that made sense. Aside from his friend’s, Blitzø had yet to see any marriage that wasn’t one step away to instating the “death do us part” vow.

This guy must have gotten out while the getting was still good. But not without a few licks dealt, judging by the signs of wariness on his face.

He mentally sighed. Alright the hottie daddy knows you’re here and first impression has clearly gone to shit so, get ready for take two, dumbass.

Blitzø, deciding that jokes was the way to go in a pinch, then said casually. “I guess ‘Mummy’ wasn’t a ‘fudge’ kinda girl.” He then put on his best smile as he looked straight on at the pretty owl. “Me, personally, always liked the mine with plenty of nuts.”

As smooth as it sounded, he still cringed on the inside. Oof, Blitzø, how lame do you sound right now?

However, to Blitzø’s surprise and relief, the innuendo did not go unnoticed by the only other adult in the cafe’. Both sets of eyes went wide and the haggardness on his face was instantly washed away with a swift, prominent pink flush that Blitzø definitely liked seeing. Next to Via, it was probably the cutest thing he saw this morning. It certainly took the edge off the ass-chewing he was sure to get.

Usually, anytime he cracked any sex jokes around others, he was almost immediately told off by whatever prude or asshole or Karen was in the vicinity (i.e. Moxxie) and who clearly had no sense of good humor. (Like they didn’t start humping on each other’s earlobes the second every one’s back was turned like the hypocrites they were.)

Anybody else who didn’t was either not giving two shits or just as eager to talk dirty after a line up of shots.

But this bird seem reasonably sober. But then again, judging by his frame, he was probably the type of demon to go for light drinks like martinis or cocktails rather than tequila or beezlejuice. Considering the little girl now running up to him and hugging his shins, it was more than likely. He had the bitter experience of always dealing with a parent more often found nursing a hangover rather than an infant and it was an all around shitty experience he had no wish to repeat.

However, right now, he wouldn’t mind getting another peek of that cute ass blush as the bird briefly ducked down to scoop up into his arms. “W-well,” He started, “It’s certainly good to see you awake, Mister . . . ?”

“Name’s Blitzø. The “O” is silent.” Blitzø stated without missing a beat.

The owl blinked. “What ‘o’?”

“Exactly.” Blitzø nodded without thinking and once again, groaned in pain as everything from the neck up throbbed.

“Oh dear, hangover not quite remedied yet?”

Blitzø hissed out a breath. “Yeah, that’s a big fat fff-fudgin’ no.” He smirked weakly at Via’s approving nod. “I feel like I decided to go dumpster-diving outside the nearest Sinnabon’s for a midnight snack-run.” His empty stomach than made itself known by giving an impatient grumble. “And it looks like I’m up for round two so I think it’s about time I get outta here.”

The owl blinked again. “I’m sorry?”

Blitzø carefully climbed out of his improvised bed and unsure of what to do, opted to take apart the bedding and fold it as neatly as he could. “Yeah, I know, I know, I should’ve been out of here hours ago, I get it. Satan knows no-one wants to deal with a hungover dumb-a first thing in the morning. I know I wouldn’t, plus you gotta kid here and I can’t imagine you want some strange weirdo around your baby-girl so I better clear out before -”

The quilt literally rising out of his hands cut him off like a record scratch. The fuck-?

He watched cow-eyed as some kind of blue sparkly whatsit energy surrounded the quilt and untangled the lump he had been making a mess out of. It than began folding itself in a much more professional fashion than his was and as soon as it finished, it levitated right over his head and towards the guys who, judging by the ethereal sheen wrapped around his talons, was making it.

“Mr. Blitzø,” He started calmly. “As the owner of a cafe’, I have often had ‘strange weirdos’ coming in and going out from here every day. Thankfully, most of them are courteous enough to show up around working hours, but I am no stranger to any who who wander in from the late-night crowd, which I’m assuming is where you come from.” His tone wasn’t accusing but Blitzø still frowned at the teasing lilt he definitely heard.

“As for my little Starfire,” The bird continued, nuzzling his daughter on the cheek which earned a giggle. “Via, I like to think at least, is an excellent judge of character, especially more so with strangers. So, if she thinks that you’re trustworthy then that’s more than enough reason to let you stay.” With a twirl of his talon, he sent the quilt through the door leading upstairs to, whatever the fuck it led to as he set Via down on one of the stools after a quick, dramatic spin that earned him another giggle. “At least, long enough for us to feed you a decent breakfast.”

That last bit was definitely NOT what Blitzø thought he’d hear. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Oh certainly, after you’ve been given food of actual substance to eat instead of the leftover, surely bacteria-ridden remains scrounged from a random dumpster.” The big bastard responded blithely as he made his way around the counter, to where Blitzø finally noticed the fancy-looking coffeemaker that made him feel more broke-ass than he already was. “But first, I believe refreshments are in order. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

The asshole part of him wanted to deliver a pissy comeback at the offer. He was a grown-ass man, more than capable of getting his own food, fuck you very much and no trust-fund, (sexy) long-legged prick had the right to tell him what was okay for him to eat or not – Moxxie already got his ass enough about that, he didn’t need anyone else doing that shit.

Big bitch was probably trying to keep him here long enough to call the cops on him the minute his back was turned so he could stick him with some BS robbery charges just for shits and giggles. Which had happened to him before due to more than one nut-job Karen and/or Kevin.

And of course, since it was fucking Hell, there was only a certain amount of times that you could get arrested and get bailed out before the taxpayers think to simply say “Fuck it” and just take your money and never bother to find your cell keys.

That in mind, he was so not in the mood to bust out of prison again, that one stint in Greed was enough for the next five years.

Well, fuck this bird. The front door was right there and he was not gonna have to put up with whatever bullshit this guy was -

His stomach halted his would-be flipping-the-bird-at-the-bird-on-the-way-out escape with a rumble even louder and more impatient than before. The tell-tale smell of brewing coffee didn’t do anything to help quell it. And damn, did it smell good . . .

. . . . . . Oh, forget it, they dump that dumpster every other day and he was too hungover to spare the effort to drive. Or Look for his van. Or try to remember the name of the club he was at.

“. . . I usually have iced coffee. But right now, I’ll take a regular coffee, as black as blood.”

That request was responded to with a humored smile. “I myself usually take it black as sin, but I’m always up for a challenge.” Turning to the way too complicated than should be normal looking, coffee-making monstrosity, he also added, “Also, forgive me.”

“For what?” Blitzø asked as he came closer to the bar. This close, he could now spot a simplistic yet obviously custom-designed hotplate big enough to fit enough food for five people, flat black surface on one side and a classic stove-top on the other.

“For not introducing myself properly earlier.” A clean, see-through glass coffee pot that Blitzø didn’t even see him pull out appeared in his hand as he whipped out a coffee filter so finely made it looked more like a hankie, bypassing the coffee maker completely. “I’m Stolas, owner of this cafe’ as well as Chef and Barista. You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting my daughter, Octavia, my darling little helper.”

“Daddy says I’m his ‘Suzy Chef’!” Via, also now known as “Octavia”, chirped proudly. Before Blitzø took a seat on one of the stools, he moved as to help her up but she shook her head. Gripping the crank under the seat, she pulled it up and down like a desk chair’s until the seat was low enough for her to climb up. He watched in bemusement as she then adjusted the seat back up. Clearly, they were built with the varying heights of Hell’s diverse demographic in mind.

Not bad thinking, Blitzø had to admit.

“Indeed you are, my Owlette.” Stolas chuckled. Having placed the filter inside a clenex wrapped around a chic-looking coffee pot, he placed a silver carafe onto the stove-top side of the hotplate and flipping the switch. Taking out a bag of coffee grounds that smelled fucking fantastic. “She and I have been running this little cafe’ for about four months now. And if I may so, we’re doing rather well. Granted, we’re not millionaires but I’m certainly not complaining.”

In almost no time at all, the carafe’ started whistling sharply. Stolas took it off and replaced it with a small skillet that Blitzø didn’t see being pulled out either, only to stare unabashedly at the medley of cheeses, meats, veggies and eggs that literally flew in from the entry to what he guessed was the kitchen like it was something of out of a kid’s movie. He knew Via giggling at his face but he forgoed responding to that, as while Stolas attended to the coffee pot, a bottle of oil floated over to the skillet and poured a delicate amount inside with two slices of butter following suite. “. . . Uh, yeah, if you’re good at something, you should capitalize.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not really so much about the money as it is the business of cooking itself.” Stolas said earnestly as he dumped the grounds into the filter and sweeped up the carafe to pour in the hot water in one fluid motion. “I find that this line of work gives me much more gratification than that of my previous occupation.”

“Oh, what was that? Real estate spokesman? Attorney? Phone seee-” Blitzø was instantly reminded of Via’s presence as the little girl hummed happily while folding and unfolding a napkin she plucked from the napkin holder closest to them. “-eeecrecy operator?”

If Stolas noticed the near slip-up, he didn’t comment on it. “No, I’m afraid. Simply one of the cogs of the crumbling, over-heated machine that is known as Hell’s government.” While the skillet started to pop and sizzle, the owl than summoned a sizable knife to finely chop one onion to join the oil and butter. As the coffee grounds were left to bloom, Stolas made quite a show of crumbling up a thick sausage into bits with one hand while simultaneously conjuring an actual clutch of flames in the other hand, selecting a few strips of bacon to cook and crisp in a matter of seconds. Most likely to show off for Blitzø and his daughter who “oohed” at the sight.

Admittedly, Blitzø was a little impressed too, but he’d be fucked by a mime before he ever let on. “Geez, playin’ it up a bit, don’t ya think?”

“Perhaps a bit.” Stolas admitted, not so sorry in the slightest. “But compared to how stoic and quiet I had used to be, I relish any chance to ‘play it up’.” Having deemed the bacon thoroughly cooked, which it definitely was going by the smell, he extinguished the flames and set the crispy strips onto a cutting board for a magicked knife to chop up. Washing his hands in a small sink set by the hotplate, he gestured towards the enchanted parade of flying ingredients, allowing three eggs to gently land on the counter.

Blitzø, at this point, had taken his eyes away from the free magic show in front of him, cool as it was, to quietly observe Stolas’s shapely ass as he bent over to retrieve something from one of the lower cabinet.

Hmm. He could feel the tip of his tail flicking in appreciation. Guess the cake wasn’t only in good in the cases.

He tried to keep ogling as unnoticeable as possible as he asked. “Old job sucked that bad, huh?”

“Oh, abominably so.” Stolas groaned as he fished around in the cabinet obliviously. Eventually, he made a small sound of triumph as he located his prize; a small mixing bowl which he then set on the counter next to the eggs. A crooked finger brought a whisk right into his hand just as all three eggs were lifted and cracked into the bowl and the shells were tossed away. “And all I can say is that I’m bloody well glad that it’s behind me.”

“And now Daddy gets to be the bestest chef in all of Hell!” Via proclaimed, which was rewarded with a loving smile.

“Well, I certainly try my best.” He said cheerfully. He made sure to keep close attention to the carafe’ as it poured more water into the now ready coffee grounds as he beat the eggs thoroughly. As dark, fresh coffee began to drip into the pot, he set the bowl aside to neatly dish the sausage and bacon into the skillet. “I don’t know if anything I make will win any awards, but I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t. As long as I have my Via and this cafe’, I’ll be happy.”

Those words, despite himself, left a deep pit in Blitzø’s stomach.

He was all too familiar with the feeling to know that it wasn’t hunger.

And the cause of it was the warm translucent air wafting around in the little cafe’ that was more potent than the coffee.

And more pointedly, how out of place he felt to even be watching it.

He felt his claws clench the leather of his seat, the fabric creaking softly in response to his tightening grip. The pit felt like it was growing larger, making his shoulders tense. He found himself staring full-on at the clean surface of the bartop and tried to ignore the itch of his spines going erect. For the next few minutes, all that was heard was the sizzling and firecracker-like popping of the skillet as the eggs were poured in, the repetitive sound of coffee dripping and Via humming as she tried to fold her napkin into something other than a lopsided square.

Blitzø took a deep breath through his nose, his lips sputtering a bit like a horse’s (Didn’t he wish) as he exhaled.

“. . . Look, I’m . . . ” He paused a moment to think his words over carefully. The last thing he felt like doing right now was to sound an utter dickhead to the guy who was making him a hot meal for a total stranger.

No telling if he was the type to spit in on the plates of assholes who deserved it.

“. . . I’m sorry for, uhm, for having you make deal with me first thing in the morning.” He managed to get out rather lamely.

He wasn’t sure if the bird heard him. But that didn’t stop him from continuing. “I . . . I had a really, really real sh- crappy day yesterday, and – And I just needed to blow off a little steam.”

Images started to flash unbidden in his head. Of zeroes, of bottles, of bitter looks and smashed frames only made everything in Blitzø had been able to blissfully ignore up until that moment, then chose to rear its ugly head making him let out a barely concealed grunt. “. . . Point is, I-I’m sorry for screwing up your day and -”

He was interrupted by a good-sized mug being set calmly before him. He started as the smell of the dark roast curling in soft puffs and into his nostrils, the scent heavenly and already mending the throb of his head – only to be taken aback at the feel of a large, plush-soft hand petting the space between his horns in a comforting rub.

It took every single inch of Blitzø not to either smack the hand away or bite it off on sheer impulse.

He looked up and instead of what he thought for damn sure was going to be a patronizing sneer, – Because how else would any prick look after patting an imp’s head like a puppy’s? - Stolas’s face was as soft and reassuring as the smile on his beak.

A smile filled with nothing but understanding and warmth.

Sweet Lucifer, when was the last tim anyone had smiled at him like that?

“No apologies are need here, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas said simply. No hint of bullshit. “Nothing’s been broken, nothing’s been ruined. So please, don’t worry. I’m not a demon so easily rattled. Especially by lovely surprises such as yourself.”

. . . . Blitzø blamed the warmth he felt tingling on his cheeks on the steam coming from the mug.

Stolas didn’t comment on it, but he was sure that he heard some not very subtle amusement in his voice as he turned back to his cooking. “Would you like for me to add some peppers to dish? They were freshly picked this morning and I’m sure that they’ll taste wonderfully with the eggs.”

“UH-” Blitzø grabbed the mug and pretended to study it to keep himself from doing anything else dumb. “Y-yeah, sure, whatever, go nuts. I’m good with whatever.”

“Marvelous! I’ll add some as soon as the eggs have cooked for a bit.” Stolas said cheerfully. Blitzø muttered a “yeah, whatever” to his back as the owl reached from some green and red peppers big enough for Via to hold in both of her hands. He then made a small hoot that Blitzø, even with how off-kilter he felt at the moment, found cute. “Oh, and let me know how the coffee is, please. I’m trying a new blend I finally managed to put together a few days ago and I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Blitzø blinked at that. “Wha-? You mean this isn’t instant?”

Stolas shook his head. “Oh no. I try my best to use fresh items whenever I cook. Not that I have anything against instant or frozen food, but, as a chef, I find it almost like cheating if I’m not as authentic for my customers. The last thing I want is to have our cafe’ be mistaken for another Twink Trip or Hexxan.”

Blitzø would have taken a shot at that remark. Namely how if you loaded up gas station coffee with a fuckton of sugar, cream, and booze, it didn’t matter about the quality ‘cause who would give that much of a damn about dirty bean water -

That is, had he not taken a sip out of his mug.

It took a moment of peering down at his “coffee” to think up a much more direct response. “. . . . This is the best damn cup of coffee I ever had.”

“Thank you!” Stolas accepted the compliment cheerily. I admit it took much longer to properly cultivate and grow the beans for it than I had originally anticipated. I mean, I already knew the process was intricate but it’s a whole other experience when you actually attempt it yourself.” Stolas gave a weak chuckle as he prodded at the eggs simmering in the skillet. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I almost blew up my grinder or ruined my insides.”

Blitzø, taking a much larger sip of his coffee hummed appreciatively. “Yeah, bad coffee can f- trip you up.” He knew that to be true. He once had to get his stomach pumped from drinking brew made by some dumbshit in his RV. That experience wasn’t really as painful as the telling-off Moxxie gave him afterwards. Little bitch always had act like he was right.

He took another big gulp. “You did good, though. Five stars.”

It wasn’t blind praise. Blitzø never bullshitted how he felt about what he drank and ate, (Much to Moxxie’s, Fizz’s, his Sunday Barista or, really, anyone’s annoyance) and the coffee was no exception; heavy and crisp with a balanced pairing of earthy and floral notes, the acidity like berries that left plenty of room for flavor instead of just tang. And the aftertaste didn’t linger like secondhand smoke, it left gradually with a mellow sheen that he didn’t mind in the slightest. Even though he was more an iced coffee guy, this was a kind of coffee Blitzø could see himself drinking again. When he wasn’t hungover, that is.

“Well, I’m thrilled to hear that, Mister Blitzø. Thank you.” Stolas responded gratefully.

By now, he had placed a lid over the eggs to let them simmer which allowed him to focus on chopping up the peppers. The imp assumed that had all he had been cutting up before Stolas turned to delicately slide a plate baring an apple that had been sliced in a way that the core stood erect as a tower with the slices spread open like a flower bloom. Before he can ask how the hell he did that so fast, Via chirped happily before plucking one slice and biting into it with a thank you.

Blitzø found her delight over the piece of fruit adorable, which the baby owl took as an invitation to pluck another slice and offer it to him with a smile. Satan, could this kid get any cuter?

He took the offered slice with a cheeky grin. Only to quickly toss it in the air and catch it with his tongue like an iguana’s, adding a “Bleh!” just for laughs, for which he earned a round of giggles from Via. He had almost missed by being blindsided by the cinnamon and spice flavor that had been baked into it. It had to have been made that very morning if the warmth and freshness of the slice was anything to go by, allowing the fruit to melt orgasmically well into his taste-buds. Wow.

He and Via had had unanimously agreed to split the apple between them, with no objections from Stolas as he busied himself with divvying up the vegetables and summoning other ingredients from the kitchen to prepare accordingly. Via filled up most of the time with chattering on innocently about little things, how funny her dream was last night, how home-school was “five times better than private school as there were less big dummy poop-heads” - Blitzø almost choked on a slice while Stolas lightly admonished her about “language” - And how her daddy once made her the bestest cake ever in the in the whole wide world for her fifth birthday. Blitzø, for as sweet as he found her daughterly praise, had to swallow the gag when she started going on about the “tasty” mouse chunks Stolas had added.

Bird or no, eating mice for Blitzø was a flat out no.

A sudden, horrifying though than popped into his head. Was Stolas going to add mice to his food?

Like mouse sausage? Mice bacon? Rat peppers? Was that a thing?! Or was he just pulling a Moxxie and asking dumbass question?

. . . Probably just being a Moxxie.

His internal debate was cut short by something else being set before him. A damn good-looking something.

An omelet the size of Blitzø’s fist lay before him, hot and steaming and straight from the hot plate. Yellow as can be with spots of golden brown, there were no signs of tears of breakage, with a perfect fluffy layer peeking from the folds stuffed with meat, veggies and oozing cheeses. The artsy fucker had even gone the extra mile and draped the top of it with a thin sheet of mozzarella, some garnish and a couple slices of baby tomatoes. Talk about extra.

“There you are, this morning’s special - ‘Egg On Your Face’ Mega-Omelet, with all the fixings and extra cheese for those unwelcome aches and pains. If I’ve done my job right, it should fix you right up.”

“Like magic!” Via dded with a bright smile. Both men chuckled at her.

“Like magic, huh?” Blitzø smirked. Well, I’ll just have to see about that.

Sure, the eggs may have looked good, but Blitzø had learned all too well that food looking good and tasting good were two totally different things.

What looked like a pile of slop to the naked eye could taste just as good as a five morning star meal served Beelzebub herself. The same thing applied to a plate of fancy finger foods that cost the same as a house mortgage but tasted like cardboard in the end. And Blitzø certainly had more than enough exposure to lousy food like that, thank you and fuck you very much, with no wish to repeat it.

Which he hoped he wouldn’t with this monster-omelet before him.

Deciding not to put it off any longer, he picked up his fork and dug the prongs into the soft-cooked eggs, scooping up a decent-sized bite with plenty of pepper, meat and cheese. After a moment’s consideration, he also speared one of the baby tomato slices. He gave the loaded fork a few blows to cool it, because there was no way he was going to down a maybe-shitty breakfast with a burnt tongue.

He stuck the fork in his mouth -

And his mind was BLOWN.

If there was such a thing as a bit of paradise, than these eggs were the mother fucking proof in the pudding. Or omelet, in this case.

The eggs were cooked to perfection; nice and fluffy to where they melt on in his mouth like luscious chocolate from Lust’s first class bakeries. And the flavor was like a parade in his mouth, from the salty onions, the crisp tomato and the sweet peppers, the numerous flavors sucker-punched his sense of taste without overwhelming the presence of the eggs. The meat inside was spectacular too, the bacon was at the optimum point between chewy and crispy, and the sausage was deliciously flavorful and greasy. His kind of meat, with the right amount of salt and black pepper.

He could barely hold down the pleasurable moan, but did nothing to stop all the muscles in his body from going lax.

Man, fuck trying to go to heaven, the key to fucking Eden’s Gate was right in his head hole.

A bemused coo. “So I take it you like it?”

Blitzø taste-jizzed mind abruptly snapped back into focus. Stolas’s beak was curled into a big, smug-ass grin that made his own fault in to a frown. The owl simply looked at him expectant. Dammit, if the kid weren’t here, he would have gladly told the bird exactly where to shove that grin.

Instead, he gave a disgruntled growl. “Yea, it’s . . . okay.”

Most chefs would have promptly gotten offended by such a dry appraisal of their “masterpieces”, especially if it came from an “uncultured swine” such as him.

But once again, Stolas surprised him by delivering a pleased smile in lieu of a hissy fit. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Eat up now, or it’ll get cold.”

Blitzø chose not to shoot off a shitty comeback, despite being rankled by the “order”. He took out his bubbling frustrations out on his food, picking up the plate and bringing it close enough to begin shoveling the omelet into his mouth like a starving man.

The petty, spiteful gremlin that was roughly, meeeh, ninety percent of his overall personality hoped that such a messy personality hoped that such a messy display would earn at least, would earn a groan of disgust. Always did the trick when he wanted to annoy Moxxie.

However, much to Blitzø’s complete consternation, the owl just gave a small humored hoot and returned to the hotplate with a single crack or insult. Like he didn’t give two shits about his bad manners.

Blitzø internally growled. What an ASS.

. . . A pretty ass, but still.

“I’m glad you’re pleased by my cooking skills.” The big bastard (Yes, Blitzø was calling him that again, suck it.) said happily, busying by wiping down the skillet while beating a new batch of eggs and sliding two slices of bread into a small old-fashioned toaster. “I have to admit, my main specialty is baking and drinks, but I try my best to expand my range of cuisine when I can.”

Once the yolks and whites were thoroughly whipped, there were poured into the skillet and almost immediately they started to sizzle and bubble from the rewarmed metal. “Unfortunately, I can’t cook the kind of food necessary to run a full-fledged cafe’.”

Blitzø swallowed a sizable bite of egg and pepper before asking, “Can’t you just wiggle your fingers and hocus pocus a steak or something?”

Stolas shook his head. “Alas that’s more Lady Beelzebub’s forte than mine. Even my magic can only do so much. Now if this was a flower shop that would be another matter, but it is what it is.”

“I’m glad it isn’t.” Via piped up. “I love Daddy’s cafe’! And I love helping him cook!”

“And you do such a magnificent job, my Owlette.” Stolas’s praise was followed by a small plate of scrambled eggs encircled by toast cut into the shape of flowers and mice, covered in butter and jam. Via took it with a bright thanks, digging in right away with a sparkly pink fork also provided by Stolas. “But sadly, a cafe’ needs more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and milk to cater to wider clientele. Not that I’m downplaying your talent as a chef, darling.”

“I’s okay, Daddy.” Via said, crumbs dotted on her beak from biting into one of her toast flowers. “I know it’s only because I’m not big enough to use the stove yet.” Blitzø mirrored her smile as she beamed up at him. “Once I can do that, Daddy said I could make even better dishes just like him.”

“Indeed I will, Starfire.” Stolas affirmed. “But for now, I’ll have to settle for looking for another cook. Sadly though -” Stolas pulled a face. “- There hasn’t been one suitable enough to help me run things here.”

“Yeah, it’s hard running the show solo.” Blitzø agreed. “Sucks even more when you don’t have a good crew to back you up. Don’t know where I’d be with M&M.”

Stolas blinked. “Uhm, ‘M&M’?”

Via blinked too. “Like the candy?”

Blitzø snickered. “Nah, Moxxie and Millie, friends of mine and my emplo-” He cut himself off with a grimace. “Well. Who were supposed to be my employees.”

The sudden downtrodden shift that overcame the imp id not go unnoticed by Stolas. “‘Supposed to be?’ What does that -”

“Don’t ask.” Blitzø said curtly. After a second, he added a little less harshly. “I-I don’t really wanna get into it right now.”

Because if I do, I KNOW I’m just going to get pissed off and do something shitty all over again.

“. . . . Alright then.”

Blitzø could hear it clear as day that the bird bastard had more questions, and would more than likely prefer to bombard him with rapid-fire questions like Moxxie would when he wanted to be particularly annoying. But thank Satan, he looked put off enough to put him off.

Small blessings.

The next few minutes passed in silence. The lull of it broken only by the sounds of silverware hitting the plates as Blitzø and Via ate, the drip of coffee as more was brewed in the pot and the subdued sounds of crunching each time either a somewhat concerned Via offered Blitzø a bite of her toast or, returning the favor, when he offered her a bite of bacon or sausage – He learned quick that she didn’t like peppers so much so he did well to avoid giving her any filled-to-the-brim bites. He could only hoped that the reason she liked it wasn’t because the meat that was in it wasn’t made from rodent.

It probably was, though, because . . . Birds.

Eventually, Blitzø had cleaned his plate, a satisfying weight settling in his stomach, he let out a contented sigh, his headache feeling miles better than almost a half hour before. “Woo, that was good. A frickin’ plus.”

The owl’s smiled chased away some of the terseness from before. “Happy to hear it. It’s always good to get good reviews on new dishes.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Quick question, though.”

“Yes?”

Blitzø pointed at the now empty plate. “Level with me – Was there any mice in that? Because, I get it, you and Via are birds, but I kinda draw the line when it comes to eating plague-carrying little turds.”

Stolas tittered at that. “No, no, I assure you, no lovely vermin of any kind was served to you. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that mice are terrible cures for hangovers.”

“What’s a hangover?” Via asked in that no-filter, childishly clueless way that all little hellspawn did.

Stolas, in a perfectly natural response to such a question, was freeze awkwardly. “O-oh, well, erm-”

Blitzø supplied the answer. “It’s like a really bad stomach bug, but for grown-ups.” Giving the little owl a conspiratorial grin, he added in a fake whisper, “Basically, if you eat too much green stuff, your poop comes out greener than Mammon’s butt.”

Via burst into a peal of little girl laughter that definitely brought an easy diffusion to Stolas’s unease, even earning a couple of barely smothered hoots that were poorly hidden by his hand.

Huh. That was twist.

Usually the parents were scolding him at this point, the usual uptight bullshit spiel about “using such vulgar language in front of their innocent little babies, you demented little firetoad!”

Not that he gave a shit because he was a comic genius, fuckyou, Moxxie.

After a bit, both birds managed to quell their laughter enough for Stolas to gently urge Via to head upstairs and get ready for the day. She agreed without protest, stopping only to allow Blitzø to ruffle her headfeathers as he added, “Gotta look cute for the suckers!” That earned him an admonishing look from Stolas that was weakened by his approving smile.

A smile that only grew bigger when Via caught the imp completely off-guard with an unexpected hug, her tiny arms wrapping swiftly and tightly around his waist, almost sending him falling off his stool. Before he could recover, Via was already heading up the staircase, humming cheerfully all the way.

Stolas’s soft chuckle drew Blitzø out of his shock. “Via has certainly taken a liking to you quickly.”

“Uh, yeah, I-I guess.” Blitzø rubbed at the back of his neck. “Last time I got hugged like that, some piece of shit nicked my wallet to buy thirty Bruiser King gift cards.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.”

“Joke was on him, though, he got food poisoning with the first card he used.”

Stolas hummed approvingly as he poured them both a fresh cup of coffee. “Well, I suppose there is such a thing as karma.”

Blitzø barked out a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, and maybe there’s a God.” He accepted the refilled mug, along with the offered sugar and creamers, and dumped almost each one in like an alcoholic adding liqueur. “Uh, speakin’ of, what do I owe ya?”

Stolas, who had added his own preferred condiments to his coffee in much more moderate manner, paused in his blowing at the steam rising from his mug. “Pardon?”

“What do I owe ya? For the food and coffee.” After a moment, he also added with only a tiny wince of guilt. “And whatever else my drunk ass did to your place before I blacked out.”

By emotionally-traumatized principle, he wouldn’t have asked outright. Often times, being the victim of a classist system that shat on those on the bottom rung, he had been subjected to grossly padded bills and unexpected expenses issued by a good percentage of the “well-to-do” owners of “upstanding establishments” where he wound up spending half the night washing up dishes. Once he got fast enough, and only if neither the food nor the service was worth the lightening of his wallet. Blitzø didn’t hesitate to pull a dine and dash; making escapes either through the bathroom window, the vent, or once through riding one of those fancy dining carts into the kitchen and out the employee entrance that admittingly had been fun to ride . . .

. . . Right up until he learned too late that the entrance opened right up to a three-story staircase with no handrail.

Needless to say, that had been one shitty ride to the hospital, Moxxie lecturing him the whole damn eight miles.

After everything – And he meant everything – in his lower body healed, he opted to hold out on anymore dashing. At least until the little baby-dick whineypuss would get off his fucking back about paying.

That aside, he saw no reason to be the deadbeat bun right now. Not when Stolas had been nothing but polite towards him. Even though he certainly didn’t deserve such kindness . . .

He braced himself for the amount as he took a long sip of his sweetened coffee -

“Oh, you needn’t worry – You don’t owe me a sint.”

Blitzø sputtered into his mug, nearly choking on the brew as he processed the owl’s words. “*Cough* *Cough* *Hack* Blegh! Excuse me?”

“You don’t need to pay me.” Stolas restated. “Like I said, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been nothing but civil, you are obviously sorry for any offense you think you’ve given – Not that you have, don’t make that face – And more importantly, Via likes you. So I see no reason to change you.”

Blitzø frowned at him. “You’re screwing with me.” He stated flatly.

“I assure you, I am not. Honestly, your praise over your breakfast was payment enough. In all honesty, you were doing me a favor.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t get a chance to try out new recipes on new faces very often, so any new opinions are always appreciated.” Blitzø felt his face fault at the slow, awfully sensual smile the owl sent him. “Especially ones as sublime as yours.”

Blitzø forgoed looking him in the eye, each cerise eye of his hooded and looking at him like he was going to be the next dish for him to devour, choosing instead to chug down half the contents of his mug. Gulping audibly, he mumbled back, “Glad I was such a good guinea pig for you.”

“I prefer the term ‘freelanced taste-taster’, personally.” Stolas retorted politely.

“I don’t want your charity.” Blitzø bit at him.

“Nor am I giving it to you. Like I said, you did me a favor.”

“How do you know I’m not some thieving bastard taking adventure of goody-two-shoes shop owners like you?”

“I have measures set to prevent such an occurrence.”

“I’m an undercover health inspector and you just failed.”

“Now you’re just grasping, dear.”

Blitzø rubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t just -” He let out a frustrated breath. “Look, I get you’re an . . . Okay guy and you are obviously trying to set a good example for your kid. I get that, but I don’t want to be the lasting impression of what to expect when giving out freebies to poor drunken bitches like me. No one should have to deal with that without getting paid, -”

“Mister Blitzø.”

Stolas’s firm tone stopped him with the sharpness of a smacked ruler. His face was stern, but not completely harsh as he eyes were looking at him with a softness that pricked at his chest.

“You. Do. Not. Me. Anything. And when I say something like that, it’s because I mean it with all the sincerity that is implied. It is not just for the sake of looking good in front of Via and certainly not some sort of dastardly ruse to get you to lower your guard. You’ve apologized and you meant it, you’ve been kind towards my daughter and enjoyed my cooking without bias or sarcasm. That said, believe me when I tell that is something I care for much more than any check or bill.”

Stolas sipped at his coffee calmly, making no comment about the for certain mollified expression on his face. “So, please, no more apologies. They are appreciated, but to be honest, after twenty-two of them, it just feels repetitive.”

Blitzø gave him a look. “Sorry what now?”

“Mister Blitzø -”

“Nah, nah, what you just said, the fuck you mean I said sorry twenty-two times?”

Stolas’s beak dropped into a thin line, taking a moment to maybe think his words over before formulating a response, “When Via and I found you last night, you were in a . . . A great deal of distress.” He was clearly trying to more emphatic than judgmental. “You were greatly intoxicated and horridly incoherent. Once I was close enough, all I could hear was you saying sorry over and over.”

Blitzø could feel himself growing hot from the neck up in embarrassment. The apprehensive caution in Stolas’s voice was doing fuck all to help the crashing wave of shame following up like a speeding train.

He didn’t need Stolas to tell him what he was bawling like a baby over.

But, ever the bottom bitch for punishment, asked anyway. “. . . I say what for?”

Stolas then turned sheepish. “O-Oh well, uh-uhm, I don’t quite recall -”

“Bird, I don’t do any of that hee-haw Shit, it’s too early and I’m still hungover and all I’m gonna do is get pissed off now WHAT did I SAY?”

With two sets of eyes, it was easy to see that Blitzø was not going to give up on getting an answer. Stolas sighed softly.

“You made a great deal of apologies to a great deal of people. I didn’t catch every name but, erm, you had quite the list.” He sipped at his mug, stalling for only a minute before continuing.

“You apologized to a miss Mistly for dinging her car door while trying parallel park by a Wacdonald’s, a miss Queen for breaking smashing her one of a kind pirate ship in a bottle instead of the pinata by accident on her birthday, a miss Millie for chipping her favorite ax, a mister Moxxie for making him run all the way to Greed for a single battery for your TV remote, dropping his guitar fourteen times, borrowing his wallet, or more accurately, pinching his wallet to pay for Voxflix twice, a miss Barbie for stealing one of her skirts and ripping it whilst performing a split, I couldn’t really make out what exactly you were apologizing to a “Vee” and a “Fizz” for -”

“Okay!” Blitzø blurted out. “Okay! I get it! I get it! I was a hot mess, no more shit needed, I got it!” He cringed at the indignant crack in his voice. Christ, like he didn’t look enough like a pathetic shit already. He might as well plan to fake his own death again.

You know what they say, fifth time’s the charm.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Stolas’s weak attempt to reassure him only bounced off of the imp like a ping-pong ball. “It really wasn’t. Really, you should have seen me afterwards when I was binge-drinking.”

Blitzø scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you got real frisky from all those white wine spritzers.”

“Actually, I tended to lean more towards absinthe.” Stolas retorted, with no little bit of sass, taking a small bit of gratification from Blitzø’s surprised. “Of course, with how I was knocking back each bottle, you’d almost believe they were Purgerade drinks.”

Blitzø lifted his head from where he had been pressing it into the bartop. “Damn, how many we talkin’?”

“At least two to three on a good night, or whatever was close to that.”

The imp gave a low whistle. “”Fuck me, bird. I get shit-faced after half a bottle, how the fuck are you still standing?”

“At this point, stubbornness and sheer dumb luck, I believe.” Stolas quipped.

That startled enough mirth in Blitzø to actually make him laugh. “Join the club, pal.”

“I fear I cannot, as I have cut back my vigorous drinking to properly attend to Octavia. Leaving my former occupation did wonders for helping me cub the habit.”

“Bosses sucked that bad, huh?”

“Doubly so, considering it was a family business, sort to speak, although, I can assure they were family in name only.”

“Ugh. Preachin’ to the fuckin’ choir – there’s only so much shitty family a bitch could take in one day.”

“That, Mister Blitzø, I can wholeheartedly agree on.”

There were getting off-track. Blitzø bit his lip. “. . . I’m sorry for my shit.”

“For the final time, no more apologizes are necessary.”

He angled his head towards the staircase door. “I probably scared your kid.”

“Via has seen far worse, I assure you. Even when off your cups, you weren’t untoward her in any way, so you can save any of the claims of indecency that you’ve half-heartedly concocted in that crafty little mind of yours.”

“Just let me fuckin’ pay you.”

“I neither require nor want your money and I promise you, should you try to force any $ouls on me, I will promptly set it to aflame.”

“Lilith’s titties, you’re a stubborn bitch.”

“And you are an equally stubborn spendthrift.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not without dinner, if you please.”

Blitzø groaned. “God, we’re gonna keep talking in circles if you don’t just charge me and get it over with. I’m not fucking broke, I have the $ouls, just let me pay you.”

Stolas’s counter remark definitely caught Blitzø unawares. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s done something genuinely kind for you, hasn’t it?”

Blitzø’s hackles rose instantly at the “innocent” statement. “You trying to say something?”

Stolas merely sipped at his coffee. “Just an assessment.”

“Or you being a dickhead.”

“I made you a free breakfast for which I expect nothing in return. I am being absolutely forthright whereas you are choosing not to believe that I have no ulterior motives. Who, might I ask, is being the dickhead here?”

Oh, this smug bitch.

He had wanted to let loose a snarl that would make the owl falter in his not requested charity streak. He felt the urge already rising in his throat, ready to finally tell off this prick who was seriously starting to piss him off . . .

. . . But could only let out a low whine at the exhaustion of prolonging the one-sided argument, the fatigue of a bad night, getting totally smashed and crashing just as hard setting in. Being still half hungover sure as shit was not helping to keep the spark of pride burning.

If anything, Blitzø felt even more tired.

He wanted nothing more than to lay everything out, pay whatever the fucking bird deserved and drag his broke-back ass back home and lick his wounds from last night. And the only thing that was stopping him was getting through to this royally stubborn and feathery (Not to mention pretty soft-looking) bastard of a demon.

“Alright, look – I want to pay you back, but for some weird ass reason, you won’t let me.”

“I think we have perfectly established that.”

“So we got a problem.”

“Which could be solved by you accepting my putting your breakfast on the house.”

“And it should be clear as fuck that ain’t happening.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

Blitzø blew a breath of air out of his nose. “I’m not just being an asshole here – I don’t like owing people anything. I’ve been dipping in and out of debts for years, financial and personal. And just that fucking recently I finally managed to pay off a good chunk of them only to literally be screwed over again almost the same fucking day. So now I’m once again edging too damn close to bankruptcy for my liking.”

He gave the owl a flat look. “Meaning I can’t take any chances, such as freebies or random handouts, cuz Charity was just as easily turn into high-interest loans with zero time frames for return payments, unless you want to set up an installment plan that involves cutting out pounds of flesh ever week. Obviously, a guy like me can’t afford to look any more fucked up than he is with a chunk of anything missing.

“All that said, do you see what I’m gettin’ at?”

“. . . . I’m starting to.” Stolas said with a considerate look.

“Satisfaction eased through Blitzø’s frame. “Great. Glad we finally got that -”

“All the same, you needn’t pay me.”

And just like that it was gone.

He growled so sharply it would have destroyed eardrums had he done it inside of headphone speakers. “You fuckin’-”

“But since you won’t accept the gesture,” Stolas interrupted calmly. “How about just doing me a special favor?”

“‘Special favor’?” Blitzø blinked. “What kinda -”

A sound not unlike a light bulb dinged in his thank full-no-longer-as-sore cranium.

Oh.

Oh okay.

He gave a resigned sigh. “Hooookay, look, tootsie hootsie, if you just wanted a quick shag in the back all you had to do was ask. But I gotta warn ya, the place I’ve fucked in was a public bathroom that probably wasn’t cleaned in the last year or two, so I’ll probably need to wipe down the goods with something. Baby wipes would be good if got’em -”

“NO!” A spluttered hoot brought his attention back to Stolas, whose heart-shaped features had turned an almost violent shade of crimson in the span of half a minute. “No! No, no! Not that kind of favor, no! I mean I need your mouth!”

Blitzø gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, I got that much, relax.”

“No! No! I mean -” Stolas let out a shaky warble before planting his face into his hands while muttering to himself in fit of bashfulness.

Blitzø just sipped at his coffee, waiting for him to spit whatever he wanted to say out. To his credit, he didn’t stare, knowing from his own share of verbal vomiting moments that doing that would just make his embarrassment worse.

Even though he no clue what the fuck he was suddenly so damn worked up about.

I mean, fuck, if I had a sint for each time I said the “wrong” things, I’d be raking in more money more green than Mammon.

A deep breath. “Forgive me, I’m doing this all wrong. I’m trying to offer you a deal. Something, I hope, will mutually beneficial to the both of us.”

The incredulous look on Blitzø’s face was quickly addressed. “Nothing vulgar or dramatic involved, you needn’t worry. Nothing of the sort.” He took another deep breath. “I would like for to come in again, and try my cooking.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Say what now?”

Stolas made a small noise of exasperation. “As I said, I’m still relatively new to running a business dealing with dining and catering and the like. I’m often pushed into having to spontaneously expand my range of techniques and specialties depending on my success. I know I’m capable, but I know that I can’t just rely on my own opinion and preferences alone. Even more so when I’m attempting new dishes. As such, I need an outside opinion.”

The imp blinked. “And yooouuu think that’s me?”

Stolas nodded. “Very much so.”

“Some fucking rando off the street who broke into your private property, was wasted out of his mind and could just as easily rob you blind despite these so-called ‘measures’ you said you have?”

“Not as ‘so-called’ as you say, but yes.”

“Rrrright.” Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Don’tcha have, I dunno other foodie friends, you can ask? Or maybe just wait for some famous food blogger critic douchebag to to come in and give you a rating?”

“None that would trust to be fair or take seriously, or assume my want for approval is really a want for cheap compliments – that I’m desperate enough to give someone license to either be obnoxiously petty or to deliver the best shallow review that procures them a not so low-key invitation to my bedroom.”

Blitzø grunted. “Asshats.”

“You should see how quickly they recoil as soon as they learn of Via.”

“Fuckin’ asshats.”

“Quite.” Stolas affirmed. “And to answer your other question, yes, I do have others whose say I do value, but I’ve heard relying on the biased does not help one’s credibility. I do appreciate the precious few whom I’m fortunate enough to have as friends, but I need a healthy dose of honesty from outside sources to provoke me to experiment and expand myself.”

“And you think that guy is me?” Blitzø repeated, gesturing to himself crudely.

“Of course.”

“Bullshit.”

“Good gracious, and you call me stubborn.”

“It’s not -” He let out a small snarl.

Seriously? He was still keeping this up? Enough was enough.

“Look, I get you’re trying to be nice, I get that. But, trust me, I’m the last fucking guy you want to be nice to let alone have around. Seriously, ask fucking anyone in hearing distance – I’m a right bastard on a good day and a pushy dickhead on a bad one, I’ve fucked up more people than I’ve actually helped and you would have more sense to shoot me rather than invite me over again. I mean, you gotta kid to think about, and -”

Blitzø shook his head. “And you don’t want me messin’ with your business. The one I tried starting flopped before I even got my feet off the ground. Pretty sure that speaks a fuckton for how helpful I can be towards you.”

He could barely ignore the burning sting of truth in that statement.

Saying all the shit that was a constant boiling inside him all out loud sucked.

It sucked balls.

He knew it was better than letting it all rot and fester like he let everything else – But it still sucked.

Fuck what his therapist said about it being being cathartic. He should quit that bitch.

It’s not like he would be able to pay them for much longer anyway.

Blitzø knew he was not the kind of person to be asked to come back. Even the scraps of friends he had managed to hang on to could barely wait for him to leave as soon as he said hello.

Moxxie was the leading example of proving him right. Even when Blitzø actually adhered to his demands of privacy and properly asking for invites to visit, (That Blitzø still found completely anal of him although he bit his lip) Moxxie was adamant to get him out the door before he could even get two fucks in.

Even Millie, Moxxie’s blast and a half of a wife, who was far more accommodating than her whore-back husband, drew the line when it came to his company being longer than necessary.

That was to say fucking nothing about his own flesh and blood.

Barbie Wire, his twin sister, his other half, would sooner see him six feet under before seeing him again.

Cash Buckzo, his father, never asked for him, never wanted him, and made it a point of telling him so straight to his face more than once.

His mother, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . She sure as fuck would have been better off without him.

And his exes? Those who he didn’t remember or couldn’t care to remember, those he never took a chance on because of him being too much of a pussy to try?”

Verosika? It was pretty fucking clear on how that went.

Fizz?

He was never wanted.

He was never missed.

He was never asked to come back.

Not for a visit.

Not for a drink.

Never just to hang and shoot the shit.

He was always tossed away as soon as necessary.

He was always left behind, pushed aside, shoved into the background.

Forgotten.

Dead for all those concerned.

Dead, except in the way he wanted when he was at the lowest he could be.

No one ever missed him.

No one ever wanted him back.

Nobody.

“. . . . I fuck things up more often than I get them right. There’s a pretty good chance if you get involved with me, shit’s gonna go sideways for you too.”

He wasn’t sure if he had muttered that part aloud or not. Not that he gave a shit.

He halfway expected to be asked to repeat himself.

Or maybe Stolas would curse him under his breath for being such a dramatic bitch.

Maybe he would finally cut the bullshit and be real about what the fuck that he really wanted from him.

However, all Blitzø got in response, was a soft touch at his wrist, soft as silk and just as gentle.

Along with two sets of big cerise rose eyes that crinkled gently at the corners as they held his gaze with calmness and sympathy.

And maybe something else, but that could’ve been that whiny, fractured part of himself making up what wasn’t actually there.

“I’ve taken far riskier gambles than trusting a stranger out of the blue, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas spoke in such a comforting voice. “And I have yet to lose from any of them. Perhaps it’s rather cocky to say so, but since my winning streak has yet to be broken, I think you’re a rather good bet to take a chance on.”

The tender smile, that was nothing short of dazzling, he gave Blitzø at the end such a declaration was a damn good seller.

Satan forbid this man ever works for Vox – cause with that smile, he could sell gas station keys like they were the keys to gates of Eden itself. I mean, if his touch alone could send sparks up my arm like he was doing right now. . .

Fuck him if he knew.

The hand causing such a feeling than gave two soft pats to his wrist before lifting away to grab the coffee pot once more, refilling Blitzø’s mug with still steaming java and the exact number of sugars and creams he had diluted it with before.

“So, how does coming in twice, three times a week sound? I usually close the cafe’ around seven since I try to get Octavia in bed by eight thirty on weeknights. If you like to come by over the weekend, I close around six thirty to seven o’clock depending on how busy I get. Except any catering orders or special events, I’m not fussy over whenever you come over. All I ask is that you let me know when you’re coming by in advance so I can have something ready for you. A day or two ahead would be just fine.”

Blitzø, this time, could not find in him to groan loudly in protest to the blatant hardheaded dismissal of the what seemed like hours long argument. The argument he bitterly realized that he couldn’t fight against.

That did nothing to stop him from throwing his head back and scowling at the annoying as shit clean ceiling tiles above them.

“. . . . . . . You really aren’t gonna give this up, are you?” He said after a while.

“I suppose I’m about as bull-headed as you are.”

Blitzø gave a chuffing laugh at that.

Well, fuck.

What was he supposed to do with that?

What could he do with that?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuck it, if the worst happened, he could just disappear again, right?

Not likely Stolas would look for him just for a review, right?

. . . . Right.

“. . . . . . . . . . The peppers and onions were both sweet.”

Stolas blinked at him like the owl he was.

Heh. Cute.

“The omelet was good, but it was kinda over-sweetened; I don’t know what kinda onions you added but personally I would use a more subtle kind of onion to help round out the sweetness of the peppers.”

He let this sink in for a moment before continuing, “I remember seeing you add a green pepper so next time I would recommend using a shallot, maybe about half a tablespoon’s worth should be right. A regular tablespoon’s good too if you don’t use too much of the peppers.”

He sipped at his refreshed coffee. “I personally, like some spice in my eggs to help me wake up, so don’t be afraid to throw some in the mix in the future. Like oregano or basil. You don’t have to go crazy with the amount, though, - just about when you’re making the bowl and a few dashes of it on top when ya put it on the plate. It’ll pair well with the tomatoes and not distract you too much from the rest of the food.”

He took a breath. “Coffee’s good, strong enough to double as a chemical peel, everything any caffeine addict is looking for. The aftertaste doesn’t turn me off from drinking the rest and from how it feels going down I am a hundred and fifteen percent sure you’re a nit-pick bitch cuz I taste how finely you ground the beans without turning them to powder. It’s good ya didn’t because that shit’s only good foe about half hour before fighting to keep your eyes open by either shooting up some dope or knocking back enough 66-Hour-Energy drinks to give the Big B a heart attack.”

Shouldn’t he stop? Maybe he was saying too much. Stolas had asked for honesty and Blitzø was doing his best to deliver it with as little jackassery as possible.

Problem was, for Blitzø, jackassery was his default language, according to practically everyone and their fat mom’s. And, most of the time, he didn’t even realize how much he let slip out before he got a sharp crack across the face. Or a knee to the balls.

He chanced a look at Stolas. If he looked upset, he could take it all back. It wasn’t too late, he could still backtrack -

Tiny stars sparked in Stolas’s wide eyes. Small and bright and beautiful, looking every bit like the twinkling little lights his mom would tell stories to him and Barbie back in their childhood. After the circus ring was cleared of trash and the last Hellhorse was tucked in their stall. Back when, even thought hings weren’t easy, everything was okay.

Before everything suddenly wasn’t.

Stolas, upon noticing Blitzø looking at him, instantly grew more flustered in some odd cacophony of joy and mortification, his plumage fluffing up from the top of his crown to the little floof of feathers on his chest. His hands belated came up to smooth them back into place, unfortunately they did little to quell them along with the rosy blush that tinted his face plate into an eye-catching pink.

Damn, this bird was so cute it was unfair.

The anxious itch in his chest was put to ease right there and then.

This couldn’t actually work, could it?

. . . Could it?

. . . . . . Maybe. Just maybe.

Emboldened, Blitzø sent the owl a lazy smile that easily darkened the pink on his face, matching the warmth the imp felt on his own face. “The apple was like a fucking angel feather, so soft and tasty. You have got to show me how the ever-loving fuck you made it turning to to applesauce ‘cause that shit was better than fuckin’ crack.”

Stolas looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be elated or overwhelmed.

After an awkwardly long amount of time, he clearly had settled on elation. His upper set of eyes turned upward in little crescents as his beak returned the smile with a brightness that Blitzø felt proud of bring out.

“I’d be happy to, darling.”

To be continued . . .

ME: Hey all you sinners & saints! Who’s excited for HAZBIN HOTEL coming out this friday?!?!?!? (Or Thursday if you actually watch it at it’s appointed time) I know I am!

I am SO EXCITED AND DESPERATELY TRYING TO IGNORE THE FACT THIS STORY IS LITTERALLY GOING TO LOST IN HAZBIN HIGH THAT I KNOW IS COMING FOR THE PAST WEEK. AND THE WEEK AFTER THAT. And the week after that . . .

ANYWAYSO, here is the recipe for the Mega-Omelet, which let me tell, just reading the ingredients alone mad me feel full! Also, what do you do for your respective hangovers? Let me know in the comments!

I’ll have the next (& FINAL chapter of this installment) written and posted as soon as I can, so until then, eat hearty, everyone!

Oh, and enjoy your stay at the Hazbin Hotel . . .

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jackredfieldwasmyjacob · 1 year

Text

today is yesterday was the international mother language day, so i thought i could make a post about the languages spoken in spain!

all of this data will come out of wikipedia, so i'm sorry if there's something wrong. i now realise i could've planned this way more, it's my bad honestly, i'm sorry.

anyways, let's start with the mother tongue map of spain; each color represents one language:

light green: spanish, galician: blue, catalan: orange, euskera: grey, aranese: red, asturleonese: green, aragonese: yellow.

the blue dots in extremadura are fala (then northernmost one), and most likely portuguese like the one spoken in olivença (thanks @satyrwaluigi).

by comparision, here's a map with the recognized co-oficial languages (spanish is the national language, and in various regions some languages have a co-oficial status)

the lighter colours refer to different categories depending of the language:

lighter blue refers to areas where galician is recognized as a minoritized language but isn't co-oficial

lighter green refers to areas where euskera is recognized as a minoritized language but isn't co-oficial

lighter red refers to areas where catalan is spoken but isn't co-oficial

lighter orange refers to areas where valencian is the official language but isn't spoken.

the reasoning behind the separating catalan and valencian into two distinct languages is a complex one, if you want more info @useless-catalanfacts made a great post about it (and here is even more info about the topic they very nicely provided me with). in a nutshell, valencian is not a distinct language from catalan and the reason why it's listed as such is political.

as you can see, there are some languages, mainly aragonese and asturleonese, that aren't recognized as co-oficial languages in their respective regions despite the large number of speakers. this makes them especially vulnerable to linguistic colonialism, and is why thousands of peoples from those areas are fighting in order to make their languages official in the state's eyes. if someone knows of organizations or groups that are involved in this movement, please let me know and i'll add them to the post.

apart from the aforementioned catalan blog, here in tumblr there's really great blogs about iberian minoritized languages; i personally recommend @beautiful-basque-country and @minglana for euskera and aragonese respectively, but i am sure there's more.

also, there are some languages that are not even mentioned in the maps despite its critical situation that i thought i should remark here:

fala, as stated before, is spoken in the borders between portugal and extremadura and it heavily borrows from portuguese. it has an estimated 11k native speakers.

caló is the language of the iberian roma people. it has an estimated 60k native speakers between spain and portugal.

darija, the arabic variant native to morocco, is also spoken in ceuta, a city of 80k inhabitants.

tarifit / riffian, a tamazight variant spoken in the rif area of northern africa, including the city of melilla, with 86k inhabitants.

finally, apart from the autochtonous languages, there are also several languages brought by the migrant population, who should also be counted in this post. here are all the languages spoken in spain; the first number is of native speakers, the second one of non-native speakers, and the third one is the total:

the languages translated into english are: spanish, catalan / valencian, galician, arabic, romanian, euskera, english, german, portuguese, asturleonese, italian, bulgarian, wu chinese, french, spanish sign language, aragonese, caló, catalan sign language, basque sign language, riffian, aranese, fala.

#spain #iberia #languages #spanishmaravillas #i'm no longer gonna use typicalspanish cause there's a blog with that name that i may or may not be involved with #so i'll tag my posts with spanishmaravillas from now on

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lwtkmm · 2 years

Text

They loved you, didn't they?

Part 5

Part 4

Remember, you are loved, you are special, you are worth it, your presence matters and you are beautiful.

Tw: lying, shouting, berating, insulting , mentions of SH, exhaustion .

Com-comparision is killing me slowly

You woke up feeling numb.

What was the time?

7:30 am

Dammit!

You hurried out of your bed . None of them woke you up? Ugh seriously!

You took a quick shower and change into your uniform, you turned the door knob but your door couldn't open. You tried several times but couldn't open the door. Then you realised why you couldn't - Lucifer had locked your door yesterday. All those memories of the night before, of how the demons you trusted the most, ditched you came back like a flood. You felt your eyes filling up.

No Mc!

You can't cry now!

You took deep breaths and calmed yourself down. You placed your ear on the door. You could hear the brothers laughing, having breakfast with Umi.

" Umi are you okay now? I'm so sorry that happened to you. " You could hear Beel sadly sighing. " I'll make sure that nobody hurts you again , even if that somebody is Mc. "

You felt your heart drop. Even Beel. Yeah right , even him.

" Umi darling you look so pretty , not prettier than me though~"

Yeah of course, she was pretty.. You?

You didn't know the answer to that. He never made you feel pretty..

You heard them leave the house. They really did forget about you or maybe they just chose to ignore you. You had to reach RAD, you looked around and gasped. You didn't wanted to die, but that was the only option. You carefully one foot out of the window , then the next until you were sitting on the windowsill. Your mind ran like hundred kilometers per second. You were nervous. Nevertheless , you made the jump for it. Landed on your butt. Ouch!

Lord Diavolo would be so interested to hear how the brothers and Umi treated you . You were already late, but Diavolo would let you slip away, you knew it .

You made a run for RAD and entered the council room gasping,

" So you do know how to show up" You heard Lucifer's sharp groan .

Everyone was there, the brothers, Umi, purgatory guys and the royals, all eyes were at you.

All eyes were on you.

" You knew there was a council meeting right? Still you decided to show up late. HOW CAN YOU BE SO CARELESS ! "

Careless? HE called you careless? The audacity he had to call you careless after locking you up.

" Lucifer, nobody told me there was a meeting ! " You got defensive.

" DON'T LIE MC! The message was sent in the group chat "

" Lucifer! I DIDN'T GET ANY MESSAGE-"

"ENOUGH MC! " you heard Diavolo stern.

"But -"

" Tch. First ya show up late and now yer lying. What kind of poor upbringing did you have? "

You were ready to snap! But seeing Lucifer boiling in rage and the brothers looking at you in disgust made you feel small. You looked at Simeon and Solomon to defend you but they just stared at you .

" Oh Luci ~" Umi spoke up.

"Yes Umi? " His expressions softened.

" I think mc's not lying, I mean Levi did say in the group chat to not add Mc since they're boring.. "

They had a group chat,without you.

Then she looked at you, smiling.

"I'm so sorry mc, if I knew about this, I would have never let it happen "

" Silence! Meeting dismissed " Diavolo sounded mad.

The brothers left, tching at you. Solomon and Simeon didn't bat an eye at you.

There was no one in the room, other than you, Luke and Raphael.

You were glued to the place, Luke came and hugged you,

" Mc, while you weren't here, Lucifer was explaining to Lord Diavolo how you had hurt Umi. They believed him . "

He cried in your arms seeing you so hurt.

" But i don't, I don't believe him. I believe you mc , you would never do something like that. Don't worry mc, I know you're not lying "

You hugged him tight. A child's heart is innocent and pure. His innocence warmed your heart.

" Thank you Luke. You're truly my guardian angel."

You felt a hand on your head, you looked up to find Raphael smiling at you.

" Mc.. You probably don't know ...but my angelic powers are concerned with healing. I can understand people's pain - physical and emotional. I can understand if someone's lying just by their emotions. And I could feel the truth from you, but most importantly, I could feel the deep deep, years of pain. "

He sighed and pressed your head, you could feel warmth from his touch.

" Lets go outside " He said, dragging you and Luke outside. You sat down on a patch of green. Luke beside you, clinging to you.

" Mc... "

" Yes Raphael? "

" I wanted to apologize "

" For what? "

" I probably made you think that I didn't like you something when I first came here and refused to shake hands with you. You see... I'm just little quiet, I don't know how to interact with people much, do I didn't wanted to say something that would have hurted you but seems like I hurted you with my behavior."

You could see the guilt in his eyes. You smiled.

" It's okay Raphael, I don't mind "

You were glad that you and Raphael were on good terms. Since that day you started to hang out with Luke and Raphael more.

The royals and Simeon , Solomon didn't stop interacting with you.

They still hung out with you, but less often . And whenever y'all did, it was very awkward between everyone.

Everyday, Lucifer would berate you, comparing you with Umi only to make you feel that Umi was much better than you. You used to cry yourself to sleep everyday but didn't tell anyone, because you didn't wanted them to get stressed because of you. Everyday, when you would meet Raphael's eyes in the morning, he would give you that apologetic look . He knew. Him and Luke made sure that you were happy but deep that all this was draining you.

"86/100 ? MC THAT'S HORRIBLE! UMI GOT 96 . WHY CAN'T YOU TRY TO STUDY LIKE HER BUT NO YOU ONLY WANT TO HANGOUT WITH THOSE ANGELS. YOU'RE HONESTLY A SHAME TO US, TO LORD DIAVOLO. I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE WOULD HAVE DONE IF UMI HADN'T COME HERE! " The same Lucifer who had showered you with love and compliments when you scored lesser than that was now at your throat.

And his brothers , who had scored even lesser than you had the nerve to laugh, to call you stupid.

The truth was that satan had helped Umi write the exam and thus she ended up scoring more. You weren't a bad student but Lucifer made you feel like you were the worst.

Mammon no longer clinged to you everywhere or invited you to go the the casino together.

Levi no longer played games with you or watched anime with you.

Satan no longer read books with you or went on cat cafe dates .

Beel no longer shared his food and belphie no longer wanted to have naps with you.

But what hurted the most was how Asmodeus, your Asmo casted you aside, criticized everything about you when you were in the same room. His betrayal hurted more than anything.

You were in your room, exhausted due to another of Lucifer's daily doses, just then Umi came into your room and tried talking to you. She was tryna be nice but you knew, she was there to stir up trouble again. You shoved her out of your room. Just then Asmo barged into your room.

" Mc, why did you do that Umi! And you said that Lucifer was lying! You totally did hurt her that day "

It hurted. It hurted a lot. Some time ago, those word dripped love for you, now they were like thorns pinching your heart.

" You really don't care about me anymore, do you Asmo? I thought you said you'd never leave me, you'd always trust me, always love me, always be by my side . But you... YOU CASTED ME ASIDE. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT HURTS! TO BE HATED BY THE LOVE YOU ONCE LOVED! AND STILL LOVE! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR PROMISE?! " you could no longer keep it in you, you cried!

" Only if you hadn't chose to hurt Umi, Mc, if you hadn't chose to lie . It's pathetic to think that you think I'd still love you after your ill doing, you showed us your true self and I despise it " He banged the door and left the room.

You were lost at words. The whole world felt apart. You went to the bathroom, crying. You saw something and picked it up and began carving. The red ink that fell down, made you numb.

God , when was it gonna end.

Part 6

#obey me #obey me asmo x mc #obey me replaced mc au #obey me mc #obey me angst #obey me asmodeus #obey me barbatos #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me luke #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me raphael

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azure-sorceress · 25 days

Text

I finally finished The Lost Metal! Here's some (a lot of) thoughts:

Spoilers below.

The biggest problem this book has is that the stakes are too high. Wax & Wayne books work because, unlike Era 1, they are fun low stakes steampunk detective novels with a great cast of characters.

I was really sad that MeLaan left immidiatly after the beginning of the book. I wish we had had the whole gang together like in BoM, but I guess it wasn't meant to be.

I think this might have been the most agressive foreshadowing for a character death that Sanderson has ever done. It was so obvious Wayne was going to be killed off by the end of the book. Also it made me really sad. As in, I spent the last 30 pages weeping.

The problem with having a lot of Cosmere connections and a literal god/shard as your villain is that the regular villains of this series seem weak in comparision. Yes, I'm talking about Telsin. Such wasted potential...

I'm not sure I'm too excited about Era 3 to be honest... But you know what this book made me excited for? The Elantris sequels.

Omg what do you mean you can use a seal to turn yourself into an elantrian??? This makes seals so much more OP than they already were.

Also, is Moonlight Shai? Or is it another forger that we hadn't met?

I'm really worried about Sazed. I think he's right not to trust Kelsier, but I also think that Kelsier is right about Sazed losing control of the intents of the shards. I really wanted Harmony to work and be a decent god (because we are lacking in those), but I see things are about to become dangerous again. I feel like there should be a way to completely merge Ruin and Preservation because they were already merged at some point when Adonalsium was whole...

I really don't like the Ghostbloods. Maybe it has to do with the bullshit going on with Shallan in Stormlight and all the manipulation they did with her. Maybe it has to do with the fact that they are stealing Investitude from other planets. Or maybe is just the fact that Kelsier is the leader and I don't trust him even a little bit.

But it strikes me as odd how the Ghostbloods get great people like Moonlight, TwinSoul and Kaise?? And then you have Kelsier, Mraize and that creepy guy with the mask in the epilogue (also, who the hell is his sister and what do you mean she's in Roshar???).

I'm so glad Marasi didn't accept to be part of them, I didn't think she would, but you never know. In fact, she actual puts it very well when she turns them down: "I won't keep secrets when the truth could save lifes". Kelsier "there's always another secret" Survivor could never.

I wish we had seen more of Marsh. This feeling is for the entire series, in fact. He was one of my favorite characters in Era 1 and I would have liked to see him be Death a little bit more.

Overall a good Cosmere book, but a weak Wax & Wayne book. If I ever reread Era 2 I think I'll stop at BoM because I don't think I can ever reread Wayne's death.

#wax and wayne #the lost metal #waxillium ladrian #wayne terrisborn #marasi colms #steris ladrian #melaan #mistborn #mistborn era 2 #cosmere

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r0botic · 1 year

Text

Giskard and Daneel's bond doesn't get as much attention as it deserves.

Elijah and Daneel this and Elijah and Daneel that, but can we talk about Daneel and Giskard? The amount of attention these two get is so little it makes me want to pull my hair out, they are best friends! Everyone look at them! I genuinely think the robots' bond was way stronger and more genuine than what Elijah and Daneel had. (Btw this is fully about The robot series only)

‼️(I *DON'T * ship neither Gis x Dan or Eli x Dan, saying this just in case.)‼️

Let's not forget they are robots, their relationship can be compared to something we humans have, but the comparision will never be fully accurate, as they are machines and lack emotions. That's also one of the reasons why their relationship is so fascinating to me.

It makes me smile how they always tried their best to keep the other safe, ESPECIALLY in The robots and empire.

The part where they held hands is so important. We know that Daneel is a humanoid robot, he thinks like a human at times, Giskard said it himself. So the fact it was Daneel offering the handshake and Giskard accepting it is just so adorable, considering the meaning behind it. Daneel was with Elijah often and if it wasn't programmed into him since the very start, he for sure had many opportunities to see how humans show affection and gratitude. So just imagine two robots trying to show their trust and loyalty to one another without knowing how to actually do it, so they imitate humans.

Giskard's preference to save Daneel over listening to Vasilia's orders and then explaining why he did it is probably my favourite scene in the whole series, he mentioned this "personal need" that helped him use the Zeroth law in practice, and Daneel saying he would do the same for him if the roles were switched? Sobbinggg

And don't even get me started on how they basically complete each other, they always come together, they can't be separated, it's Daneel and Giskard always and forever. Giskard is the one who gets the ideas and Daneel is the one who turns them into reality. They both needed each other, Giskard could alter emotions, had experience and a very specific way of thinking, Daneel understood human thinking and his mind was more flexible, which allowed him to think about things that Giskard wanted to think about but couldn't due to his restricted mind. If you connect these two you get an insanely strong duo, which is (SPOILER) in my opinion one of the reasons why Asimov decided to kill off Giskard. Imagine how crazy they could go with it if they both continued living after the last book.

Let's not forget about that one robot shooter attempt, Daneel immediately jumped on Giskard and knocked him down in order to save him from being shot. He didn't know that the aggressor was a robot, so he had to decide between saving Gladia and saving Giskard, accepting the risk of the other dying, and as it was mentioned in the book, he immediately went for Giskard. He had to break the first law and accept the risk of Gladia dying, because Giskard and what they yet had to achieve is something he (QUOTING (at least from the Czech translation)) "doesn't think he could survive losing".

The Zeroth law was the work of the both of them and I'm dying on this hill, they invented it together, they both put in the effort and made it work, together.

(SPOILER) And Giskard's death? Daneel's reaction absolutely destroyed me. He took his hand again, for the first time he offered Giskard his hand as a thank you gesture for saving his life and to prove him his complete loyalty, and for the second and also the last time he took his hand as he tried to save his life aswell, he tried his best to assure him that he did the right thing and doesn't deserve to suffer, but it didn't work. He had to watch his last friend die and then let his hand go, accepting the fact that his only help he had left is gone and now he's completely alone for absolutely everything. Good lord who's cutting the onions, i'm not okay.

Now, why do I think Daneel's bond with Giskard is stronger than what he had with Elijah?

This is going to be a very simple answer from me. Daneel would always serve Elijah, simply because he's a human. Daneel would always help him, listen to his orders and protect him, no matter if he personally liked him or not. There would always be this forced urge to do what he says, because he was programmed to. I'm sorry, I just can't help myself but see some fakeness behind this, it would never be fully genuine. Obviously I don't doubt Elijah and Daneel's friendship, I loved them and no one is ever going to insult them on my watch, but a human and a robot relationship will never be as free and genuine as a robot and a robot relationship, because in their case there's nothing that is forcing one to listen to the other.

And when there was a law that was basically forcing them to be split apart, they found a way how to walk around it and save their robotic best friend. This is just so impressive, imagine you are a robot whose mind is built on three (and somewhat four) laws and you find a way how to avoid acting upon the strongest two of them, just to save a robot who you aren't supposed to care about AT ALL. Imagine the pressure they were under and the risk they had to take. If this isn't the strongest act of loyalty, I have no idea what is.

Also, the difference in their brains, Elijah is a human and has a human brain, Daneel is a humanoid robot who thinks like a human at times, but he is still a robot with a positronic brain, and guess who else is also a robot with a positronic brain. I really liked how Asimov made Giskard and Daneel talk to each other when they were alone, they were simply using some key words and they understood each other perfectly. My point is, their brains can basically somewhat connect since they are both robots, even if one of them is an older model, therefore that automatically makes them be closer to each other.

I *DO* love Elijah and Daneel's bond, I've loved them since the very start and I was rooting for their friendship. I jumped very high in the air at the end of The caves of steel, the way Elijah's view on Daneel changed made me smile so much. You could see the improvement at the start of every book, the way he greeted him was always more enthusiastic than the book before and that was absolutely adorable, because it meant he's finally growing to him. They had so many funny moments together i think about to this day.

But the way Daneel is so damn tied to Elijah by the Laws of robotics and Elijah reminding him of it every time he felt like Daneel is taking over smells just so iffy to me, and I can't do anything about it. Don't forget how the robots always reacted when someone thanked them for a rescue, especially Giskard, he said it very well at the end of The robots of dawn, he simply did what he was programmed to do, there was no will behind it, he just did it because he had to, no need to thank him, and that's exactly what i'm talking about.

I could talk about Dan and Gis' relationship for hours and hours and never get tired, their bond was so well written. I wish people paid more attention to these two, it's so sad, I need people to talk about them more! They avoided laws to protect each other and held hands like the bffs they are! What more could you possibly want!

- now me just rambling..

I think this should be enough to close the case with "they had the closest bond possible and deserved a break to just sit down together and relax for a bit", because they never got it and it makes me furious.

So you are telling me they realized they are something humans call friends, and then just had to work their asses off til one of them literally fkn died? Are you serious rn? They couldn't even talk about it more or anything. I get it, they had that one absolutely immaculate 10/10 moment where they held hands and i'm sure that by that gesture they told each other everything that needed to be told, BUT I AM NOT SATISFIED. I DIDNT GET TO SEE THEM HAPPY TOGETHER AND SAY "we did it", I DIDNT GET TO SEE THEM CHANGE THE "friend Daneel/Giskard" TITLE TO "best friend Daneel/Giskard" SO IM MAD!!! AUGHH!!!! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE!!! ASIMOV COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!

“I know that. And yet—and yet, if it were to happen again, I believe the same anomalous change would take place again.”

Daneel said, “It is strange, but hearing you put it so, I find myself feeling you did the proper thing. If the situation were reversed, I almost think that I, too, would—would do the same—that I would think of you as a—a human being.”

LMFAOOO 😭 JUST GET MATCHING BFF ACCESSORIES AT THIS POINT LOL LOOK AT YALL!!! SO OBVIOUS!!!! (The fact they never got to be actually happy together is a mental torture for me that i'm not sure if i'll ever get over)

#please hear me out on this #ive been meaning to say this for such a long time #please someone tell me you understand me #I wish I could explain this deeper and with more details but language barrier is a cvnt #extremely hot take on the dan&gis > dan&eli part and im expecting the danxeli shippers to burn me but im taking the risk #i said what i said #-#the robot series #giskard reventlov #daneel olivaw #giskard and daneel #giskard daneel bffs #giskard tag #daneel tag #r0botic back at it

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serica-e · 11 months

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this idea has been brewing, so here are some aspectss i would personally rewrite ab romano.

that does not mean canon sucks, but since i am southern italian i want to make a character that depicts my experience better, using stereotypes that come from the south itself rather than the north-

all under a read more

WORK

i am not gonna replace his negative thoughts towards work into a more positive way bcs its fine, not to want to work, so i still think he does not like to but he is still quite dilligent.

he will complain sure! and has a bit of a messier workplace, but still does try to organize said space.

he tends to follow deadlines bcs i think i made LIa a procrastinator so i do not wanna make every single southerner the same. but i think they all kinda follow that when they are all together they kinda tend to rather than give themselves a specific time, they set a more generic one, like noon for example and you can come like 12.10, 12.30, etc, bcs we do that, a lot.

inferiority complex

look, this is kinda of an harder topic to handle, bcs there is an inferiority complex we do think everything north of us, is better, but its not on the aspects himaruya put.

from what i noticed there is quite a lot of thinking the north is more organized or more clean, or less conservative. but there is such a strong love for southern italy too.

we are very prideful of our culture and art, like my teacher telling me caserta was prettier for versailles, and we love that we are warm while we view northeners as snobs,there are wrong assumptions about our languages, like potraying them as dirty but i think making romano just suffer being always “worse” than his bro is not completely true

i think romano complains a lot ab it with his fellow southeners, but he is quite defensive with the northeners, he has a sense of competion towards his brother, because he feels like he is not enough, that the south is not enough, he tries to overcompensate by acting more dilligent, and perfectionist with his art.

also i want to potray a two sided inferiority complex rather than it just being romano’s bcs i find it interesting

he is enough obv, he is my perfect baby boy :’)

SOCIAL LIFE

romano is the kind of rep for us introverted southeners, but i think mainly with him its that he is grumpy and does not talk much with the other nation, but a complete ray of sunshine with his family (not feli thooo) and people.

i am not making him so angry and rude bcs i feel like hima making him half arab and be the angrier and ruder in comparision to the whiter brother who is tendencially nice was weird, also why i do not want to potray romano as just being worse, but rather something h feels like due to how he was treated.

i think as i said he is more cold, and does not rlly like to talk to stranger, tho when he is the south he still does small talk, not at the level that rosa does lmao tho, inspired by me n my aunt going out and her talking with everyone.

he is more awkward than not! he does not rlly know what to say but you can truly see him shine when he is with people he loves, becausehe becomes a chatterbox , and you can see him smile and laugh more as well.

#hws romano #aph romano #hetalia #hws south italy #aph south italy

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chelseahotel2004 · 4 days

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hiii is the pokemon anime entertaining? are there multiple ones? i've never really played any of the games but i remember seeing a few episodes as a kid, thought it could be fun to watch some of it now as an adult :-)

this is a really good question! i love the pokemon anime, but i would be the first to say that it is not necessarily good. if you go into it expecting lots of crazy plot and character development, you are going to be pretty disappointed. but if you go into it understanding that it is a goofy show made for children, then you can have a lot of fun!! its a feel-good show to me with cute characters, fun plots, and (usually) exciting battles. i guess the best comparision i can make is that if you like old school magically girl animes like sailor moon or tokyo mew mew then you will probably like pokemon too? in the sense that they can both get a little repetitive at times, but for the most part they are just lots of fun :-D

as for whether there are multiple animes, the simple answer is yes. you can watch them all here (just make sure to use a good ad blocker). as for which series to watch, ive put some basic info about the main series below the cut

firstly, a basic synopsis: each series follows ash ketchum and his partner pikachu as they explore a new region in an attempt to become a pokemon master. along the way they meet new companions, catch new pokemon, develop new rivalries, fight team rocket, and challenge gym leaders to become the best of the best! each generation can stand alone, although there is continuity between them.

Original Series (seasons 1–5)

as the name implies, this is the original series and what most people think of when they hear 'pokemon anime'. here, ash travels with companions misty and brock through the kanto and johto region. if you are the kind of person who likes watching things in order, then this is the place to start. it introduces ash as a brand new trainer and explains how he and pikachu became partners. the animation and voice acting is definitely a product of its time, but is still charming in its own way. the main pitfalls of this generation for me are that the individual episodes can get a little bit boring at times (usually follows a repetitive formula). also, because they were still finding their footing, there is a lot of what i will lovingly call 'bullshit'. a lot of the battles dont make sense, and gym badges are given to ash for stupid reasons (like making a gym leader laugh instead of battling them). pokemon are released for no good reason and things just altogether get weird sometimes. ash is also just so dumb in this generation but i still love him. all in all though, this is the og, and it is rightfully iconic.

Advanced Generation (seasons 6–9)

this is the generation i grew up watching!! this gen introduces travelling companions may and max as ash journeys through the hoenn region. i think this is the most quintessential pokemon anime experience you can get. brock makes a return as a companion and in the later seasons they even return to kanto. the main focus is still ash's gym battles, but they also introduce pokemon contests in this generation with may which is a nice bit of variety. at times it can still get a little frustrating, but for the most part they cut down on all the bullshit. i feel obligated to let you know a lot of fans think that max is an annoying character. but personally i think they are wrong. anyways, this is just a classic pokemon adventure!

Diamond and Pearl (seasons 10–13)

diamond and pearl has ash travelling with dawn and brock once again as they explore the sinnoh region. this is basically advanced generation but with different characters and different locations. pokemon contests are a bigger deal in this generation, but the main focus is still gym battles. diamond and pearl is known for starting to bring in more nuanced character relationships and more interesting battling. most fans of this series like it because ash has an interesting dynamic with his main rival. ash is decently more competent in this generation. all in all, this is a solid series, although perhaps a bit of an awkward place to start considering its the last generation of the "classic" era.

Best Wishes! (seasons 14–16)

best wishes is a bit of an interesting series. it was intended as a soft-reset to the anime as a whole, so there are many changes from the previous generations. the tone of the main plot is much darker, with team rocket being a serious evil team rather than the goofy troublemakers that they used to be. in following with the reset, ash has completely new travelling companions with iris and cilan. if i am being honest, i find these companions to be more annoying than lovable, but that is just personal preference. this series also suffers from ash is also becoming less competent again, although not in the cute dumb way he was in the original series. i'm being harsh on this generation, but its really not all bad. if you want pokemon but a bit more mature, then this might be the series for you.

XY (seasons 17–19)

a brief disclaimer: i never finished this series. i had grown out of my pokemon phase when i started watching it, so most of what i am saying is based on what i know from other fans. that being said, XY takes place in the kalos region with new companions serena, bonnie, and clemont. most fans will point to this as being the best generation of the anime. the animation is much better, and there is more focus on developing plot. there are also some fan favourite pokemon that come out of this gen. ash is significantly more competent here, and on the whole is much more mature than previous series. to me, this generation is much more 'anime' than the others if that makes sense. if the reason you want to watch pokemon for the childhood whimsy, this is not the season for you. but if you want something with more plot that takes itself a bit more seriously, then i think you will enjoy XY.

Sun & Moon (seasons 20–22)

sun & moon is completely unlike any of the other generations that came before it. rather than journeying around a region to collect gym badges, ash instead lives in the alola region and attends school. as such, the supporting cast is not travelling companions, but rather his schoolmates. when this series came out, there was a huge outcry because people thought the cartoony animation style was ugly. these people are just haters. the animation in this generation is actually amazing. the tone of this series is also just way lighter. personally i find all the characters to be very lovable. this generation is also team rocket at their peak to me (still silly but not as annoyingly repetitive). i do wish this series had more battling though there is not nearly enough. sun & moon is definitely not a traditional pokemon experience, but its cute and fun so i love it. i'll put it this way - if you like my little pony, you will probably like sun & moon.

anyways! that was very long winded, but i hope it helped! i've left out some other series because i don't think they make for great starting point/i haven't watched them, but these are the main six. if you have any more questions please let me know because i could have easily written double the length and still had more to say.

#thank you SO much for the ask!!!!!!!!! i love talking about this dumb show #btw let me know if you do start watching one of them and which one you chose! hope this was informative ^_^#you've got mail!#pokémon

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boboteam89 · 8 months

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HSR Senti ramblings

Hello this is literally my first post and it's me rambling about my idea of how Senti could exist in the Honkai Star Rail universe, do beware that it may be really silly and lore innacurate nonsense, you have been warned!!! It also might have a little involvement of SentiHua so... So I have thought of this for a long time and this is what I came up with, let me explain, starting off with important information : Marshal Hua. My theory is that she is a Vidyadhara who resembles the legend of Phoenix and is Phoenix herself, however Phoenix exists as "another entity" ( aka almost like how Fenghuang's Down sentience works ) There is this one quest called "Poetic Genius Ingenium", in short it tells us a story about a man named Cong and a woman named Jingzhai. All the information we need from this quest is that he is a Vidyadhara that seems to remember Jingzhai no matter how much he went through hatching rebirth. All of this information leads me to thinking : what if it's possible for a Vidyadhara to leave a body behind? Listen, this does sound absurd as the Vidyadharas revolve around continuous cellular transdifferentiation, which means they techncially just transofrm. But we have numerous different cases of disorders that the Vidyadhara can be affected by, for example Jinyu that undergoes the cicle of hatching rebirth every few months. So this could technically exist as a disease and tie with the idea of Hua having so much personalities and even versions of "self" in the Honkai lore. That leads us to the part of the lore bs I have thought of. Basically Senti is "a body" that remained after Fu Hua went through hatching rebirth once (probably when she was already a marshal and ig most of her memories still remained aftet that). She has all the memories that Hua had, and when she first was "born" into this world. She thought she was Hua for a long time, but their viewpoints are very different and unalike, so who is she? Is she truly an individual being? How can she break that mirror and see her true self? She had a plan in her mind. - Surely, I can at least bring them some fun. The biggest difference for sure being - she had grown fond of the Elation. After observing the usual life of the citizens of Xianzhou, she thought it lacked some fun. The people here were just too much focused on their duties. Sure, they might have very deep connections, but do all of them really not lack that sense of connection? Sometimes, work even made them cut it off completely. She decided to carry on Hua's duty as a marshal with some...Changes. During that time, "Hua" was really kind to all of the members of the Cloud Knights - she spent a lot of time with the Cloud Knights, cut them some slack, gave them random gifts and treated them very well, even was laidback about the work sometimes. In comparision - Hua was pretty closed off and more strict, she was somewhat cold most of the time and didn't find a place for herself with the Cloud Knights, despite still doing a great job in helping and caring for them. However Senti was no strategist unlike Hua, and soon after spiked up a little problem - unfinished assignments, very clunky reports, and the amount of chaotic events, which turned out to be a complete hit for the duty of the Cloud Knights. It didn't take long for Hua to realise that she had been "replaced". That is when she noticed the culprit behind all of that in her office. - Ah, so you've noticed! - said Senti, cheerfully, but not surprised, almost as if she was awaiting this. - You see, you're not me, and I'm not you, but I was hoping to bring some more joy and happiness into your lives! Don't you get a little lonely like this? Maybe you're giving a tad too much work for yourself and too less of time that you can enjoy. Now you can at least look back at this and say "Aha!" . It is, alas, the time for us to part... Hua stood there shocked. She was not offended by this, nor did she really mind all that this person had done. She was probably the first one to ever care for Hua so greatly, so... — Wait! Could you...Stay?

#honkai star rail #herrscher of sentience #fu hua #text post #art

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beccalendsahand · 2 years

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Toho Elisabeth 2022: Der Tod Comparision Analysis

After years of being a fan, I finally had the opportunity to see Elisabeth live for the first time this autumn. Me and a friend managed to defeat the odds and nab tickets for not just one but two dates, each with a different Der Tod (It's customary for most Toho musicals to have double, triple, or sometimes quadruple casts of its principal characters in their musicals). It was such a fantastic opportunity to see different actors' interpretations of such an iconic character, and seeing as the last Toho-beth was not filmed and previous recordings have not included every cast member, I thought I'd write up a report here for those curious!

Both Tods, Furukawa Yuta (Silver Tod) and Yamazaki Ikusaburo (Purple Tod) brought new and interesting things to the character that I’m really excited to discuss!

Here we go!

What is Toho-beth?

Toho is a big musical theatre company in Japan who are best known for bringing Broadway, Westend, and other foreign musicals to the country. They have been performing Elisabeth for 22 years now! Their production came off the back of the popularity the musical had with Japanese audiences thanks to the Takarazuka version which was first staged in 1996. The show is directed and translated by Koike Shuuichiro, the same writer and director for the Takarazuka version, but with many changes. The Toho production is praised by fans as striking the right balance between the gothic romance of the Takarazuka version, and the darkness and serious themes of the original Vienna production, whilst still managing to keep Elisabeth the main character of her story.

Disclaimers before we begin:

I have not watched every Elisabeth so my knowledge of previous versions is: Takarazuka: 1996, 2014 and 2018, Toho: 2016, Vienna: 1992 and 2006.

Each of the days I saw Der Tod was starring alongside Manaki Reika as Elisabeth, I do not know how their performances differed if at all when they costarred with Hanafusa Mari

This production had stage kisses instead of real kisses which may have influenced the actor's portrayal of the famous Rudolf x Der Tod kiss scene. I think this must have been a covid related choice, however, it's hard to tell as other Toho productions I've seen recently have had real kisses and Der Tod still walks through the audience in act one… But Lucheni does not walk into the audience or interact with them during Kitsch, so make of that what you will, I guess we won't know for sure till future productions!

Day 1: Furukawa Yuta as Der Tod

My first performance was with Furukawa Yuta. Furukawa's Tod is the most soft, gentle, human Tod I've ever seen. I wasn't sure what to think at first of his portrayal as its so different from other versions, but as the show went on I really became captured by his performance. I left the theatre with so many thoughts, trying to analyze the motivations and psyche of his character, it really made me think about Der Tod in a new way, and just made me more obsessed with the show. I'll try and put my thoughts into words here.

From his gentleness, its very clear that Furukawa plays him as genuinely in love with Elisabeth, however this does not mean that his Tod is not without his dark sides. I think what makes his Tod so good is he lulls you into a false sense of security. He speaks to Elisabeth as a pleading lover and baby Rudolf as a caring adult, but every now and again a flash darkness or anger will appear, reminding you that underneath his human appearance is Death himself.

Furukawa Tod and Elisabeth

His love for Elisabeth is perhaps the first time I've fully understood their relationship. Despite being a big Takarazuka fan I've always found the ending very jarring, as one scene ago Elisabeth says she doesn't love Tod and then suddenly she's running into his arms at the end and singing about their love for each other. Even in previous Toho and the Vienna versions despite the lyrics for the song being different, I've still found it a strange ending, but Furukawa and Manaki did it incredibly. I think as Furukawa's Tod is more gentle, already it is easier to understand why Elisabeth is drawn to him. Elisabeth is seeking independence and comfort, so why would she fall for a Der Tod who is literally pushing her around? When Furukawa comes to her it is always like an infatuated man hoping for his love to be returned, but because he is Death he doesn't know how to express his feelings, and things become muddled for him. I got the impression that he wanted to give Elisabeth his love but sadly he couldn't help who he was, and that part of him that is Death manifested itself still in his actions. Like creating chaos amongst the people, and killing baby Sophie and Rudolph. My favourite scene between the two of them was the doctor scene in Act 2. When Elisabeth says she wants to die, Furukawa says the line “おお、エリザベート、待っていた！” “Oh, Elisabeth! I’ve been waiting (to hear those words/for this moment)!” he says it with such happiness and almost child-like excitement it’s both creepy and sweet at the same time. His happiness in dark contrast to the reality of what he will do to her. Also, this is the first scene where we have Tod do more than just hold Elisabeth in his arms, as he runs his hands up and down her body, a very bold move for Furukawa Tod who until this moment has been relatively reserved around Elisabeth. This really added to the unsettling feeling of the scene, Tod is so carried away in this moment, running about the stage excited to take his bride back to the underworld, all the while Elisabeth is just stood there rigid in shock. Such an interesting moment in the show. I really liked how Tod’s emotions toward Elisabeth felt very consistent throughout the show, it was refreshing to see such a genuine feeling of love from Death towards Elisabeth, even if he did not act on his love in the right ways. The song before Elisabeth’s death again really gave us this message. When Franz Joseph says that Elisabeth is his, I feel that usually, Tod's reply that no, it's in fact him that she loves, is very confident, he knows he has the upper hand over Franz, but Furukawa sings it like a human cry, like he's trying to convince himself. There's this uncertainty in his mind but he is willing it to be true. When he and Elisabeth are together finally it is not a big romantic gesture, it's a very small moment and he gently kisses her and sets her onto the coffin and looks on sadly. He finally got her, but only for the briefest moment.

Furukawa Tod and Rudolf

The Rudolf arc has always been my favourite part of Elisabeth, so I was excited to see how it was performed in this version. This was definitely the part where I fully got on board with Furukawa's Tod and started theorising in my head about what his interpretations meant. As said above, Furukawa Tod talks to baby Rudolf like a caring adult, there isn't the usual sinister undertones that you feel with most other Tods in this scene. Furukawa stretches out on the stairs, propping his head up with his arm, and listens intently to Rudolf when no one else does. A part that I found particularly interesting is how when Tod takes the gun from baby Rudolf and Rudolf faces away from him, standing at the front of the stage looking at the audience, Tod looks on at him, with his arm outstretched, gun laid on his palm as an offering. This is in stark contrast to Shirota and Yoshio in the 2016 version who both pointed the gun at him as if about to shoot him.(something else I just wanna mention is his hilarious reaction to the "I killed the cat" line, Furukawa first raises his eyebrows in shock, then narrows them in confusion and then smiles and nods like a proud dad, brilliant) When we get to “yami ga hirogaru/Fie schatten werden langer”, and the famous kiss scene, it's a very interesting moment. Usually, at least in the takarazuka and Vienna versions i've seen, the kiss is a very aggressive and/or possessive move from Tod. In the 2016 Toho version, it is Rudolf that kisses Tod after Tod gives him the gun. This time Tod kisses Rudolf, but it is, like everything Furukawa does, a gentle kiss. As said in the disclaimer stage kisses are used this time so perhaps that contributed to this direction, but what makes it even more striking is that after he kisses him, he slowly steps back and watches on with a sad, almost regretful look on his face as Rudolf turns to the audience and slowly raises the gun to his head. A moment that is usually interpreted by previous Tods as a victory moment, is painted as one tinged with sorrow by Furukawa. As I said before I get this impression that his Tod is fighting with his duty as Death and this human emotion he's feeling for Elisabeth. And this scene really made me think that. Perhaps he came to care for Rudolph too, but he befriended him for a reason and now he has to see it through. Or maybe in this version Tod isn't even doing these things to get Elisabeth, perhaps Rudolph's death was always his fate and Tod is just doing his duty.

It’s questions like these that really made me fall in love with his Tod. Well done Furukawa!

Day 2: Yamazaki Ikusaburo Der Tod

2 weeks later I was back in the theatre for Yamazaki Tod! Ever since Yamazaki got cast as Der Tod back in 2020 I have been so intrigued as to how he would play him. I consider his Lucheni as my favourite out of all the ones I’ve seen so I was wondering if his Der Tod could live up to his Lucheni... AND IT DID!

Yamazaki put David Bowie back into Der Tod, he had so much command over the stage, strutted around like a rock star and went full commitment to the glam rock androgynous style. The long purple hair, eyeliner, and amazing costumes (black mesh billowy shirt HELLO???!!!!) a bi-icon. I think whilst Furukawa made a completely new version of Der Tod I feel that Yamazaki took us back to the origins of role but added in the Japanese influence. My first impression was a man playing Der Tod like a Takarazuka actress, but as it went on a realised that wasn't quite it. If I was to compare him to any other Tod I’d probably mention Kim Junsu from the Korean production, whilst I haven’t the full show, from the few clips of it I’ve seen I instantly thought “this is the KPOP der Tod”, I feel like Yamazaki did a similar thing, but instead of KPOP it was JRock. He was really reminding me of Visual Kei Rock bands like The Gazzette and SID with his performance. His vocals were out of this world, merging visual-kei sound with undertones of musical theatre training creating this ethereal and at times sinister sound. I think this was so cool to see as originally Der Tod was inspired by David Bowie and Glam Rock which Japanese Visual Kei music was inspired by. This influence has been absent from the Toho and Takarazuka versions with more of a focus on the fantastical elements so it was nice to see that added back in. I must say when watching the show before I had found Furukawa and Kuroba Mario's pop/rock style high notes endearing (affectionate), like they were trying but couldn't quite get there, so it really was amazing hearing Yamazaki sing them like a true rock star would. In terms of acting, his take on the role is a lot more classical, in that this is definitely a Tod that loves chaos, someone who takes pleasure in toying with people's lives.

Yamazaki Tod and Elisabeth

Unfortunately, Yamazaki’s Tod does fall back into my problem with Tod’s I’d seen before, where at the end of the show I was left thinking “yeah but why is Elisabeth with him?”. Yamazaki’s Tod is definitely more obsessed with her on a surface level rather than being in love with her. His take on Tod is much darker in comparison to Furukawa’s, he has much more of an eerie presence and quite vacant expressions that make you wonder what he is thinking. Whilst Furukawa's darkness is hidden by his gentle exterior, Yamazaki’s is all there for you to see. He is very in control of his movements, everything feels very precise, whilst Shirota gave us an in-human Der Tod by playing him with animal-like gestures to make him seem almost like some kind of "creature", Yamazaki achieves this in-human Der Tod by being completely devoid of feeling. There was just something incredibly unnerving about him like you could tell something was not quite right behind the eyes. I think this feeling is best described by this Twitter user who did these beautiful Der Tod illustrated head cannons saying “I feel like he sleeps upright in a coffin…I’m not sure if he actually sleeps though”.

A moment I particularly liked was when he appears to Elisabeth in her chambers and pops up from behind her chair. Whilst most Tods seem to play this as a quick jump scare before stepping out from the shadows straight after, Yamazaki just stays there, arms draped over the top of the chair like “oh you poor thing”. It reminded me of a cat toying with its pray. I think that moment sums his Tod up very well.

To compare his Tod to the moments I liked from Furukawa, the doctor scene also feels very different, Yamazaki’s Tod feels very confident, he isn’t running around the stage with glee, and he surprisingly isn’t as heavy handed as Furukawa was. Though he stilll runs his hands over Elisabeth it’s a much more subtle moment, perhaps in his eyes, he’s had her from the start so doesn’t feel like he needs to act so desperately.

The song with Franz Joseph is again more classic Tod, he sounds very confident that he has her. I don’t have any analytical things to say about this scene but I think it's worth mentioning that he licks the knife before giving it to Lucheni, make of that what you will...

Yamazaki Tod and Rudolf

So after seeing Furukawa’s interpretation I was so intrigued to find out if this was unique to Furukawa or if it was a new direction the Toho production was taking Der Tod's character, and I'm excited to say, both actors had completely different interpretations! So let's start with baby Rudolf. Yamazaki sits beside Rudolf and intently listens to his story, the “I killed a cat” moment did not get any laughs from the audience this time as Yamazaki played it completely straight, continuing to listen, nodding along as if it's the most normal thing in the world to hear from a young boy. When Rudolf goes to and faces the audience, from behind him Yamazaki Tod puts the gun to his own head whilst watching Rudolph. His Tod is not subtle with where this story is going. The kiss scene was gentle like Furukawas but it felt much more sinister and instead of looking sad and watching him kill himself like Furukawa did, Yamazaki is cold and unfeeling, he turns his back on Rudolph and leaves him to kill himself, alone in his final moments. I re-watched the same scene in the 2016 production to see how it compared and it was very interesting to see that whilst both Yoshio and Shirota turned their back to Rudolf too, they were still stood beside him. Yamazaki turns his back and walks up centre stage and pauses with his black angles flanking him in 2 lines on either side as Rudolf slowly realises what he's about to do and shoots himself. I can't remember what the black angels did with Furukawa but it was definitely different as Furukawa chose to stay beside Rudolf in that scene. It's so fascinating to me how these interpretations weren't just individually chosen by the actor but were actually worked on to involve the ensemble cast as well, creating differently choreographed scenes depending on which cast you saw. Any similarities between them? I think I would have to see the show again to notice more similarities, but sadly that won't be happening unless we get a recording (please Toho we are BEGGING YOU) but the one thing that did stick out to me was they both do this same gesture. I don't know how to describe it. They do this thing where, -again I wish I could see the show again so I could work out if there's a pattern of when they do this gesture- they like take their hand and starting from wrist at their lips run their hand down, fingers caressing their lips, and they kind of have this fascinated/spark in their eyes? I have no idea if that makes any sense...actually that artist I mentioned earlier, drew it on Furukawa here. It's quite a creepy in-human gesture, I like to think maybe he's feeding on human emotions when he does it...Whatever it was I find it so intriguing that that's the one link between them. I'd also really like to know if either of them were inspired by any particular Takarazuka actresses. Yamazaki has a scar-like tattoo on his hand that makes me think of Mizu Tod and Furukawa's whole look with the wig and costumes and even some of his acting choices reminded me a lot of Asumi Tod at times.

Closing thoughts It’s so hard to know who was my favourite as they both had such completely different interpretations, it felt like I was watching two completely different characters. I think for me personally what one lacked the other made up for. For example, as a long-time fan going to see Elisabeth live for the first time Furukawa took me a while to get on board with as his human portrayal meant that he didn’t have the big bombastic stage presence that you expect from Der Tod (his singing is gorgeous by the way, I mean this more in the nature of his character choices mean his performance is overall much more subtle), so going back and seeing Yamazaki gave me that big showman performance that I had been wanting to see. However, Yamazaki didn’t give me the full satisfying gothic romance feelings that I've always felt missing from Elisabeth that Furukawa managed to really pull off. And his new interpretation left me with my mind buzzing. What they both did though was prove that there is still so much to explore with this character and this show and I love how Toho is still letting Der Tod be an androgynous fantastical being when it seems the Vienna productions have been trying to pull away from that in their recent productions. I really hope this production gets filmed so that everyone can see the talents of not just these men but the entire cast, seeing this show was a dream come true and I know it will give everyone so many new thoughts and theories about this wonderful musical!

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tough-chick-in-distress · 10 months

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As I rewatched Good Omens 2, I realized, as Aziraphael put it, We have been played for suckers.

But tough-chick-in-distress, you said, tell us something we don't know.

Wait, hear me out.

I was rewatching Good Omens 2 when my PSTD (not joking) for the first watch receded. I noticed something. Now, I am sure many people have pointed out this before and with better evidende, but here I go.

Hasn't been Crowley a little bit dull in this season? More sharp? More "evil" until it plays out he is not? More quiet? Less dramatic? Less facial expressions? Yes, Crowley is unyielding loyal to Aziraphael, but doesn't seem he less "eager golden retriever" and more "reluctant cat black" friend?

That is because this time we are watching their relationship from Aziraphael's point of view. So, Crowley is undoubtedly evil until he proves he is not. Crowley is absolutely disinterested in Aziraphael in comparision to, you know, the Universe or Gabriel's beauty. And just a general sense of nonchalant, cool, calm and collected Crowley tagging along, giving only cut nods of approval and disapproving "tuts". The little bits of approvals he gives, Aziraphael drinks greedily on them.

Compare all of that to Crowley from Good Omens 1. The Crowley who speaks first in Eden. Who checkes out Aziraphael shamelessly. The Crowley who says "You can't kill children" and takes Jesus in a road trip. The Crowley who positively ogles at Aziraphael when they eat together. The Crowley who begs to run away together.

Look at the whole Blitz affair. In GO1, Crowley made quite the melodramatic entrance short of actually proclaming his undying love. Then, he saved the books. Offers a ride home. We see the soft smile of Aziraphael. And scene.

GO2 resumes the scene just there. Crowley saved the books, Aziraphael smiles softly and takes the ride home. One would think we will see more champion-doting Crowley here.

But no. We see a nonchalant Crowley who brush off any offer for repay: not with modesty but utterly desinterested. His only concern now that Aziraphael is safe is make business. He doesn't even spare a look to his Angel in the car. In fact all along this mini episode Aziraphael refers to him, to them, as friends. Multiple times making a pause before, like it is the second word which comes to mind. And Crowley doesn't bat an eyelash at all of this.

Why? Because we are watching the whole season from Aziraphael POV. Is the the first one from Crowley's? Well, it certainly could by that way, being Crowley the first one introduced and the actual book being more Crowley leaning. But I highly doubt it would have been intentional. Unless Good Omens has been planned as a two/three seasons since the get go.

In conclusion:a)maybe we can expect Good Omens 3 from an outsider POV, where both of them, at the same time, look painfully in love but are supernaturally oblivious to this? b) Can you imagine the whole "how is you naked man friend?" scene from Crowley's POV? I asure you that he is not only raising a eyebrown there.

#one black death please #good omens 2 #meta #pov

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jeweled-blue-eyes · 9 months

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Man... I've already blasted through like fifty chapters and—

I liked Verona at first, I still do, despite everything, but man I need her to lose.

I don't know what the truth is yet but Jester is the King's nephew. In my heart. Even if it isn't canon. How would that affect things? Not sure yet.

Do I necessarily want Lux as queen? Kinda debatable, I don't know if the manhwa is finished— it's only got like 60+ chapters I believe, and I'm already past the 50 mark. Would there be a believable way to showcase her growth that she'll become a worthy monarch? Her heart is in the right place, for sure. A lot of Verona's policies and whatnot favor commoners too but... she herself does seem to harbor biases. She deems the slums and the Ransi people as lowly scum, and associates the two of them rather closely when we the audience are never shown if that's true.

The king is a useless buffoon.

What the fuck is up with Cicero, I'm sus of him but I hope he can be a good ally for Lux.

Rest in peace, Ophelia.

woah you are a fast reader, I'm impressed!

I also liked Varona at first and I still appreciate her character. She's a villainess sure but you get where she is coming from. Varona was wholly raised to be the future Queen and put her lifework into that singular goal and now she's about to lose everything to a child just because the king felt guilty about the death of her mother. The author didn't make her a mustache twirling villain or anything and I like that. She's a perfect example how a bad person can be a good ruler. If she wins I want it to be a phyrric victory where she finds no joy in her triumph over her sister.

The Jester will always be the King's nephew in my heart. His name is never revealed, so I just choose to believe that's the reason. I also love it when children are nothing like their parants. Cold and pragmatic Varona who looks down on the Ransi people comes from the kind first queen who was adored by the common folk. Kind and naive Lux is the daughter of the crazy mad Queen Catherynne. And the fool for love is the true son of King Klaus who used to burn down villages.

I'm torn if I want Lux to be queen. I just want Varona to lose. Lux doesn't even seem to want to be queen. She only does it to survive and to fullfill her mother's wish. I bet the crown would make neither party happy. Fenton could be the secret third option if he'd undergo character development and overcame his asshole personality. He isn't that bad. So far he's just been an arrogant noble. But I want the future ruler to be a woman actually.

The manhwa isn't completed yet. Hypothetically Lux had the time to become a good Queen with the right guidance. She entered the palace when she was 12 and the King would chose his heir when she's of age. I assume when she's around 18 or 20. I have my doubts if she could manage that realistically. The trauma, the loss of her beloved maid and her self-harm/suide attempts along with the manipulations and sabotage from Varona undoubtedly take their toll on the young princess' mental state and would slow down any progress in her studies.

Varona could have taken her under her wing and used her as a puppet like the red haired girl. It'd be even easier because back then Lux was an impressionable child longing for a family, but Varona was too much blinded by her hatred for Catherynne to use the opportunity presented to her. She prides herself with her outstanding education and intelligence yet many of her decisions are driven by emotions rather than rationality. For example her plan to turn the lady-in-waiting into a carbon copy of her own mother, counting on her father to fall in love with her and marry her was a very stupid plan that made me seriously question her intelligence🤦. I also found her comparision of a dog that died because she starved him in the first place and then overfed him, to commoners that would ruin themselves if you gave them too much money tone-deaf. Why are the dog and the commoners suffering? Because of the crown. And what gave her the idea that commoners aren't able to budged? That they'd get wasteful reeks of bias. Poor people are some of the most economical people you'd met, because they are used to saving things and having to live off little food when times are hard. Even after they get out of proverty those habits persist even years later. They aren't animals. Can you be a truly good queen if you treat some of your people as second-class citizens?

The king is an idiot except for one thing: Varona really is just like his brother. She would burn down entire villages during a time of plague if she considered those people expandable and a burden on the public purse who didn't deserve her help for the sole reason that they are unable to be of use to the kingdom.

#tears of a jester #answered asks

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quitealotofsodapop · 8 months

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¿Jidu y Luohou son solo almas corrientes o son algún mal antiguo? Cómo mencionaste anteriormente. Y continuando con Yuebei, ella debió inquietar mucho a toda la familia; habías derrotado al malo y este volvió como tu bebé, pero no puedes hacer nada ya que no tiene recuerdos de lo que hizo y ella es su propia persona. Además de ser un bebe. Me gustaría saber cómo se lleva con los demás miembros y sus hermanos, ¿hay alguna anécdota tipo Marco y Meteora entre Yuebei y MK? jfjfjdjd

translated via google;

"Are Jidu and Luohou just ordinary souls or are they some ancient evil? As you mentioned above. And continuing with Yuebei, she must have made the whole family very worried; You had defeated the bad guy and he came back as your baby, but you can't do anything since she has no memories of what she did and she is her own person. Besides being a baby. I would like to know how he gets along with the other members and his brothers, is there any Marco and Meteora type anecdote between Yuebei and MK? jfjfjdjd"

Jidu and Luohou are anomalies. Like the Eclipse twins; no one is really sure if they're some sort of timeless chaos entity (like MK), or the reincarnation of an ancient evil spirit (Yuebei), they just Themselves.

In "Journey to the South"; Jidu and Luohou are named for the Hindu entities "Ketu and Rahu" = the beheaded spirit of the asura Svarbhānu. Ketu (the body) and Rahu (the head) are often depicted as half of a single giant celestial serpent that tries to eat either the sun and/or moon = causing eclipses.

It would be hilarious for everyone to assume that babies Jidu and Luohou as completely normal in comparision to their sister Yuebei - only for them to be a much greater *divided* entity.

Yuebei overall loves her older siblings. Mei always treats her to motorcycle rides around the city, the moment the little girl can wear a helmet.

I havent seen Svtfoe, so I can't really be certain of the anecdotes i could use :<

#lmk fan children #lmk lunar node triplets #lmk jidu and luohou #lmk yuebei #the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #shadowpeach being parents #lego monkie kid #lmk character ideas

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badtasteaquarium · 2 months

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[A] comparision vs. contrast

Amy Rose couldn’t help but compare her romantic flings to Sonic. It was a bad habit, she supposed—it meant no matter who she was with, it would all come back around to that blue haired speedster. She convinced herself that Sonic was an impossibility—she hadn’t seen him in weeks, not even a text or a wave through a window. They had their time, however brief, but the attraction was so intense, so pure, that she couldn’t help using it as the baseline for every other future endeavor. And she kept it to herself, so no harm, no foul, right?

The bar was loud and crowded, in a part of town she did not frequent often, not unless she was with him. She wore his jacket around his shoulders as she sipped her fruity cocktail, watching him. Scourge was like Sonic if you molded Sonic’s face out of clay, then immediately rolled it in the dirt. His nose was crooked from getting into too many fights, his face pitted from the battles of adolescent acne, and was dusted with freckles. But he had that same grin. Devil may care. He was presently using it on the bartender.

“Hit me again,” he said, pushing his glass over. He used his other arm to wrap around Amy’s waist, and pinched her side. “And make it count.”

Amy hoped he had enough cash in his wallet to pay his tab. That was a big difference between them—Sonic was a goodie-two shoes, track star and local hero, while Scourge was a punk. More than once he had ushered her out of a venue, or once even his apartment, because police were beating down his door. He had gotten in a few knife fights and fist fights out in the alleys, and rumors still spun around that he had stolen a Chaos Emerald. So what if I did? he had said when she asked him about it, you’re not gonna call the cops on me, are you, baby?

That was another thing. Sure, he never once called her his “girlfriend”--in that way, Sonic and Scourge were similar. Her and Scourge were just “seeing each other”, occasionally “going out”, but never “dating”. The semantics didn’t seem to matter too much to him, but they did to her, and she kept careful note of it. Maybe it was for the better. She didn’t think she loved him, after all. He was fun, and made her heart skip with adrenaline, living a risky life, but in her heart of hearts, she knew she couldn’t keep up. At some point, she would want off his ride.

But for the moment, those pet names warmed her chest. Baby, sugar, dollface--talking to her as if he was a Fifties greaser, his motorcycle parked just out of site. She could get used to that, especially when he whispered it into her ear, a little nibble on her earlobe. The thought of it made her smirk into her glass.

Scourge noticed too. “What’s up, babe?” he asked, knocking his forehead against the side of hers. “You wanna get outta here?”

It was starting to get crowded, and she was getting lost in her thoughts. “Yeah,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

He kissed the back of her neck, below her ear, with a little bite. She watched as he downed his drink, watching his throat bob. Her mind wandered.

Maybe it was their age and inexperience at the time, but Sonic had hardly ever touched Amy. A chaste kiss on the cheek was about it. They hardly even held hands, since Sonic was so busy jumping ahead of her and pointing at something or another. Scourge, on the other hand, was all over her. He wasn’t afraid to touch her, to strip her down, to bite her—she wasn’t impressed with the hickeys he left on her neck and chest, or the bruises on her wrists from pinning her too hard. Her distaste was only for the marks, though. In the moment, when he towered over her with his bright green strap-on, blue eyes flashing, purring are you ready to take it?…

Amy rolled her shoulders back. Those were the kinds of things that kept her warm on lonely nights. She finished her drink.

Scourge ran a hand through his dyed green undercut and took his jacket from Amy’s shoulders. “Thanks for keeping this warm,” he said. “Let’s scram.”

He grabbed her arm and pushed through the crowd. Amy kept her head down—she always hoped that she wouldn’t see anyone she recognized in these scenes. Since he wouldn’t recognize their relationship as anything “official”, she kept it a secret. Tails and Knuckles didn’t know, and of course, neither did Sonic. She traded her red headband for a black bandana in her pink hair, wore heavy eyeliner (Scourge liked the look anyway), and avoided eye contact. It had worked so far.

They walked out into an alley, wet from the recent rain. Scourge inhaled deep. “Ah, fresh city air,” he remarked. “Gotta love Westopolis. So, where to now?”

“I dunno. Your place?” she suggested. It was late as it was—the train to Station Square stopped running or would stop soon, and Scourge had one too many drinks to drive her home. She knew he would, but she was smart enough to know it was a terrible idea.

“Sure,” he said, smirking at her. “Hey, just a sec--”

They had turned down a dead end alley, deserted except for trash cans and rats, and he slammed her against the wall. He pressed his body against hers. “Real quick,” he muttered. “I just wanna rev you up a little, sugar…”

Adrenaline shot down from Amy’s heart to her crotch. Spontaneity was another thing him and Sonic had in common. She barely had the time to nod in reply before Scourge smashed his lips against hers, tongue down her throat. She was wearing a tight pair of faux leather leggings, and Scourge stuck his knee into her crotch, grinding it against her. Amy shuddered, her tongue running across his tongue piercing, remembering how that felt against her clit.

“That’s it,” he purred into her mouth, and bit her lip. “I’ll have you wet in no time…”

Goosebumps spread across her now bare shoulders, and she wished she had brought her own jacket. The sleeveless, high necked top was sexy, but impractical, emphasized by the grime rubbing off on her shoulders from the wet cement of the building she was pressed up against. It was quickly ignored when Scourge groped her, thumb on her nipple. “Ah!” she yelped.

He pulled away from her, a devious and curious look on his face. “No bra?” he asked. “You little slut.”

Amy’s cheeks burned. “I-I’m wearing something,” she replied, her heart in her throat.

Scourge grinned. “Let’s find out.”

“Here?!” Amy gasped.

But Scourge had already dropped to his knees, pushing up her top with his fingertips. This was a little farther than they had gone before in public, but with her chest heaving, Amy found the rush of it all...only a little mortifying. He stretched her shirt above her chest to reveal a pink, lacy bralette, the netting of the fabric hardly obscuring her small breasts and hard nipples. He hummed, rubbing his finger over her nipple, while she squirmed waiting for his response.

“Cute,” he said finally, tongue through his teeth. He pulled the bralette down and sucked on her nipple, grabbing her waist with both hands.

Amy covered her mouth, eyes rolling back as she held back whimpering pleasure. As exciting as it was, now her whole back was against the cold, wet wall, and it was a little distracting. Even his ratty apartment would be better than this. “Hey,” she said. “Nn, Scourge--”

“I’m not quite done yet,” he said, nipping her nipple.

She hissed in air, and glanced down the alley. Through the shadows created by cars passing from the opposite street, a figure seemed to take shape. “I think, h-hey, I think I see someone coming.”

“Scared of getting caught?”

Amy swallowed hard. The figure was getting closer. She tried to discern a face, but all she could see were red dots in the place of eyes. She blinked hard and began batting the top of Scourge’s head. “I’m serious! Someone’s coming!”

Only now did he yield, hastily tucking her tit back into her bralette and standing up straight. “The fuck?” he said, now himself squinting down the alley. He left Amy to pull down the rest of her shirt. “Shit, fine, let’s go--”

But the figure was too close. “I don’t think so,” it said.

It walked under the alley street light, and his form fully came into view. It was a dark haired man in a fur collared leather jacket. This wouldn’t necessarily be unusual, but as she studied his face, she realized her previous perception was correct—red eyes. And they did seem to glow. As soon as she noticed that, she noticed other things—a near imperceptible seam at his neck, the gold bracelets at his wrists were flush with his skin. This wasn’t just a normal passerby.

“What are you, a fuckin’ cop?” Scourge spat. Another Sonic comparison—they were both mouthy, but Scourge’s was fouler.

“Not necessarily,” the visitor said. While he did look over Amy, his focus was clearly on Scourge, studying him excruciatingly. “Though you are a wanted man, aren’t you?”

Scourge bore his teeth and stepped in front of Amy. “What’s it to you?” he confronted. “Listen, I’m fuckin’ broke and trying to get laid, let us go and we’ll be out of your way.”

The visitor raised an eyebrow, huffing through his nose. “Scourge.”

He flinched at the mention of his name.

“I will let you and your girlfriend go quietly--”

“She’s not--” he began to interrupt. Bitterly, Amy knew that phrase well—she’s not my girlfriend.

“—if you hand over the Chaos Emerald you possess.”

“I don’t have it,” Scourge said.

The visitor was not convinced. “If you will not give it of your own will, I will have to take it by force.”

“What part of ‘I don’t have it’ do you not fucking understand?!” Scourge insisted, walking right up to him. The visitor had a few inches of both height and width on him, and was not intimidated. “I’ve taken assholes bigger than you on with just my fists.”

The visitor did not budge. “You are welcome to try.”

Scourge growled and threw a left-handed punch to the visitor’s jaw. It didn’t connect. Instead, it was caught by the visitor’s hand, and thrust aside. “Fuck!” Scourge exclaimed, shaking his hand off and beginning to bounce on his toes. “What kind of--”

The visitor flashed forward and punched Scourge in the gut, knocking him backwards. Amy stepped aside, holding her arms and frantically began to strategize her own next move. It wasn’t the first time Scourge had gotten caught in a fight before, but it wasn’t any less nerve-wracking. She had little success in breaking up a fight—it usually resulted in her getting a black eye from the crossfire. At least a couple times she had to take him to the emergency room, blood pouring out of his face. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that—hell, she had hoped one of them would back down, and she could go back to Scourge’s apartment and get laid, but the whole “not my girlfriend” unspoken remark had significantly culled her libido.

Scourge was back in the fight, rolling up the sleeves of his well-worn leather jacket, and deftly dodged a couple jabs from the visitor. Scourge was quick (like Sonic, Amy had marked in her internal tally), and leaped around to the visitor’s backside and kicked him in the back.

Surprisingly, the visitor barely flinched, and he whirled around and grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against the wall. In the motion, dog tags jingled out from the visitor’s collar and hung in front of his jacket in full view. “Wait a sec, you’re fuckin’ military?” Scourge said, even as his feet dangled a half an inch off the ground. “You’re GUN?!”

“Special ops,” the visitor replied. Amy’s gaze dropped to the visitor’s other hand, which had formed into a claw. Sparks crackled between his fingers. “Please do not make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Oh, that ain’t gonna happen--!” Scourge began flailing, and started kneeing the visitor in the chest. He was forced backward, giving Scourge enough room to wriggle out of the visitor’s tenacious grip and slip behind him. “I’m gonna take those dog tags and shove ‘em down your throat, you pig bastard!”

As Scourge wound up for another punch, the visitor threw his electric hand forward and caught his fist again. Scourge screamed and doubled back, clutching his hand. “Taser!” he shouted, then for once, glanced back at Amy. “Hey, get out of here!”

She shook her head. Where else was she seriously going to go? Alone at night? In Westopolis? If Scourge won this fight, by some miracle, then sure, maybe she would go home with him. But, if this GUN agent did, and he didn’t arrest her by association…

They continued to throw blows, but Scourge was getting edged up against the wall, and losing steam. The GUN agent continued to stay calm and collected, all things considered. It was as if he was biding his time. Was he trying to wear Scourge out? Amy couldn’t tell.

The GUN agent kicked Scourge to the ground, and he rolled onto his stomach. “Damn it,” he hissed, spitting blood out of his mouth. He jammed his arms into the inside of his jacket. “Chaos--”

Electricity fizzled in the air, and Amy’s hair stood on end.

Scourge disappeared from beneath the GUN agent’s boot. In a flash of green light, he reappeared above him, an elbow aimed down toward his neck. Yet somehow, somehow, the agent was ready for this. He whipped around, aimed a hand upward, buzzing with yellow-green electricity. He caught him by the face and followed his momentum to the ground, shocking him in the process.

“AAAAGH!” Scourge screamed. His face and hair was covered in a charred soot, and his body shook. He whined and rolled over, covering his face. As he did so, a green gem the size of one’s fist tumbled out of his jacket.

The GUN agent sighed heavily. “I will be taking this,” he said. He picked up the jewel and tucked it inside his own jacket. “And I will leave you be. Do not make me regret this decision.”

He stepped over Scourge and walked over to Amy, who was holding her own elbows with a white knuckled grip. He hardly had a scratch on him from the scuffle. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She stared up at him, lost for words. His red eyes had an odd sheen to them, and it took her a moment to figure out why—the pupils were mechanical, like a camera shutter. “I’m…” she tried to say.

The agent waited another moment for her to respond, then spoke again, measured and calm. “I can offer you a ride home,” he said. “Unless...you would rather stay with him. It is your decision to make.”

Amy glanced over to Scourge, who was scraping himself off the pavement. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his arm. “G-go on,” he said, defeat in his voice. “Get out of here. You’re not getting anything out of this, sticking around with a fuck like me…”

A small voice in the back of her head insisted that she stay. She had done it before. Times when Scourge had come out victorious, or beaten with his ego bruised, she had stuck around; at the very least to help get him home. But even during those times, she had wondered if it was worth it. She wondered if it was worth more late nights in dive bars, sex in dirty sheets, bite marks on her neck. It was thrilling…

...but it was late. And she was cold and damp.

She looked back up at the agent. “Sure, I’ll...take a ride.” Still, Amy glanced back at Scourge, one last time. “Good night, Scourge.”

He met her eyes. Emerald green against clear, transparent blue, it was as if he read her thoughts. She wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last. “Good-bye, Amy.”

***

The GUN agent led Amy out of the alley and back into the street, where despite the hour, was still busy with traffic. “I apologize for that display,” he said to her. “Perhaps I was a fool to hope for less of a confrontation. Perhaps I am more of a fool to let him go. Did you know he had a Chaos Emerald?”

“I mean, I knew that he had one at some point...hard not to. I just didn’t know he still had it.” She was feeling better being on the move, the walking warming her body slowly.

“Scourge has been hiding that for some time. He has been on our radar, but as I was in the area, I thought to do a scan to see if I could recover the Emerald without confrontation. I did not expect him to have it on his person.”

They approached a crosswalk, and stopped to wait for traffic. In the street lights, Amy caught streaks of red in the agent’s dark hair. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking--”

“I request that any questions about my person wait until we are within my vehicle,” the agent replied shortly.

Amy jerked back. He was definitely hiding something, as she suspected. “W-well, can you at least tell me your name?”

He glanced over to her, his expression softening. “My name is Shadow,” he replied.

Shadow. The name seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “And I’m Amy,” she said in turn, “Amy Rose.”

“It is a pleasure, Amy Rose,” he said. The crossing light flashed for them to proceed. “I can offer you more answers in a moment. I am parked on this corner.”

They crossed the street, and walked the next block in silence. This gave Amy’s mind an opportunity to make new Sonic comparisons. Shadow had a more cut and chiseled profile than Sonic did. He was calmer, more collected. She twisted her mouth and stared down at the pavement. What was she doing? Making eyes at the next guy she saw as soon as her not-boyfriend was left just short of a smoldering crater on the pavement? Scourge’s comment from earlier—you little slut—echoed in her mind, as out of context as it was.

She reconsidered her internal scolding when they reached Shadow’s car. It was a sleek, black sports car, with tinted windows and a sparkling sheen to its body. It sat low to the ground; when Shadow unlocked it and Amy climbed in, she felt as if she was sitting on the ground. The leather seats alleviated the feeling, but only a little.

Shadow’s door slammed. “All right,” he said, staring forward. “You may ask what you will.”

The inside lights dimmed, revealing the glow in Shadow’s eyes. “Are you a robot?” Amy blurted.

He sighed. “I am technically a cyborg, but I prefer the term android,” he said. “I have some organic parts, like portions of my brain and spine, but the majority of my body is synthetic.”

He pulled a cable from the console and unceremoniously plugged it into the back of his neck. The dashboard lit up, revealing more screens and dials in incomprehensible text than Amy anticipated. The read out washed an orange glow over him and the rest of the car. “Whoa,” she said in awe.

“To be fair, I am an amalgamation of many things, but that is the most applicable to this day,” he continued. “My name is short for ‘Project Shadow’, a formerly classified government project between geneticist Dr. Gerald Robotnik and extraterrestrials. Even with a forced take over to dismantle the project, it was a success--”

“Wait a minute,” Amy interrupted. “Project Shadow...you mean like, the Space Colony ARK Project Shadow? The boy who ran around with an open shirt yelling about revenge?” She leaned closer, her memory jogged. “Who I talked to in front of all those stars when he had a change of heart? That Project Shadow?”

He closed his eyes. Amy swore she could spot a hint of pink on his cheeks. “Yes, that Project Shadow. I see you now remember that we have met before.”

“But...Shadow...Shadow died. When him—when you and Sonic…and that was ten years ago...”

She trailed off. She remembered the dismay on Sonic’s face when he returned to the ARK alone, still fizzling with Chaos energy. “Yes, that is somewhat true,” he said. “I do not think I will ever know how I did not burn in the atmosphere, but I was taken into custody, first by Dr. Eggman, and later by GUN. Five years of tireless work to reconstruct my body, and my memories. Two more years of testing that has been wiped from my mind.

“And then, I collected the seven Chaos Emeralds. Their power fully activated the Chaos Drives set within me, and I have had my own will ever since.”

He finally turned the key in the ignition and started the car. “I work for GUN by choice, as it gives me an opportunity to fulfill my purpose and goals,” he finished, “to protect this planet, and those who are important to me.”

With that, he shifted into gear and turned onto the street. Amy sat in silence; her memories of Shadow from back then were vague, especially as the years went on and she became preoccupied with other things. Did Sonic know he was alive? That would be one reason to reach out, even just a text message—you’ll never guess who I saw past midnight in Westopolis! No, that may be too much information. What’s a nice girl like her doing out that way, and so late?

“You may adjust the temperature as you would like,” Shadow said, jumping her out of her thoughts.

“O-oh! I’m fine,” she said. It was pleasantly warm. “Hey, did you...recognize me? Earlier?”

He smiled, ever so faintly. “I have some advantages regarding that, but yes, I did,” he replied. “I had more important things to attend to, you understand.”

“Right,” Amy chuckled.

“Not that it is my place, but I was surprised to see you with him.”

“Yeah, I don’t...brag about it,” she sighed. “I just fell into it. I wanted some more...excitement in my life, I guess? And it’s not like I see Sonic that much anymore…”

“You were closer in the past, I assume.”

“Yeah, we tried something for a little while. Right around the Space Colony ARK thing, in fact. It...didn’t work out. You know how you wish for something for so long, and then you finally get it, and it’s nothing like you imagined it to be? That’s sorta like how it was.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

They were in the outskirts of town, with signs pointing to Station Square and Emerald Beach. “Don’t worry,” he assured. “I have this effect on others. I am told I am a good listener.”

“I see.” Amy watched as the steering wheel steered “itself”—though as her eyes dragged across his neck, and the cable connecting him to the car, she internally corrected herself. “Does...Sonic know you’re alive?”

“Yes,” he said. “I told him not to announce it, and I am relieved to discover that he has not. Occasionally we will race together, when our paths cross.”

“Oh.” A familiar feeling of jealousy bubbled in her stomach, a feeling she thought she had finally gotten over.

“It has been some time since I have seen him as well, mind you. He is like the wind,” Shadow said. “Nothing can keep him in one place. He’s always onto the next sight, the next adventure.”

“That’s for sure,” she replied. She twisted her hands in her lap, and her voice grew small. “I used to think...that maybe I could be the one to slow him down. But then I realized...that’s just not how he works. Like you said, he’s like the wind.”

“You still hold some fondness for him.”

“I try...try not to let it hold me back.”

Shadow nodded. “Indeed.”

As they entered Station Square, passing the lights of the train station, Amy sat up suddenly. “Wait a minute, how do you know where I live?”

Another smile, although this one was more coy. “Classified,” he replied.

Amy stewed in her own thoughts while keeping Shadow in the corner of her eye. There was something soothing about his presence, totally unlike the capricious edge of her former lover. For all the ways Scourge touched and fucked her, there rarely was any warmth behind it. It was all for fun. We’re just messing around, he would say, now that she thought of it, no strings attached. It was much like Sonic was. And sure, it was fun for a while, but in the end, she didn’t want someone who was going to deny her when it came right down to it, or ditch her for the next shiny thing. (She was always worried about that too, with Scourge—he had a wandering eye, and she liked to play for keeps.)

Her attention on Shadow slowly became more and more deliberate. He was handsome. She could only tell he was a robot (android, she corrected herself) by the little details. Everything else was startlingly lifelike, down to his voice, which had the proper resonance, and at no point sounded like it was coming from a speaker. She wondered if he would come up to her apartment, if she asked. Could she ask? It was rather forthcoming of her. She supposed a part of Scourge did rub off on her after all.

“Hey,” she started, and once she did, it was impossible to stop. He pulled up to her building. “There’s...ah, there’s a parking garage around the corner. Would you...like to come up?”

His lips parted, and he slowly tilted his head to the side. “Sure. I will park.”

Amy’s heart pounded as she suppressed a grin. She couldn’t be too hasty—then again, Shadow wasn’t necessarily a stranger, but it had been so long, and so much had happened, he might as well have been. A stranger, who just beat the shit out of her not-boyfriend, who was kind of a criminal when all was said and done, drove her home…

...to take her to bed…

Amy blinked hard. Don’t get ahead of yourself!

Shadow parked his car in the lower level and unplugged himself. Amy found herself so nervous she could hardly get her own seatbelt unbuckled, but managed to stumble out of the car before Shadow needed to check on her. She also became acutely aware that she was wearing platform heels, and had to steady herself. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m all right.”

Shadow only nodded at her. “Lead the way.”

She stepped ahead, and felt Shadow touch the small of her back as they entered the elevator. Her mind raced—could he sense what she wanted? He wasn’t a mind reader, was he? Then again, she did invite him to her apartment in the dead of night. If he was smart, and she was sure he was, then that meant that he was just as agreeable to the idea of a potential tryst as she was. She did wear an alluring outfit, and the bralette that Scourge so unceremoniously pried open was a conscious decision.

While Amy forced herself to watch the elevator light tick up floor by floor, she sensed that Shadow’s eyes were on her. “I hope I’m not...keeping you from anything,” she said, just in case.

He shook his head. “I have made my report, and I will follow up in the morning. The Emerald will stay safe with me. There is no rush.”

The elevator pinged and slid open. Amy’s unit was one door down from the front of the elevator, and she fumbled for her keys—unlock the deadbolt, then the handle, ignoring the thrum of her heartbeat in her ears. The door gave, and they stepped inside.

The only lights came from the city lights outside the far window. “Here, make yourself comfortable,” she said on instinct. Amy took a moment to pry off her shoes, dropping a couple inches off her height and providing immense relief to her toes. She turned on the light over the kitchen sink, which gave off a dim glow through the rest of her studio. “It’s not much, but it’s--”

She turned around only to find Shadow standing right in front of her. He had taken off his fur collared jacket, revealing a simple, V-necked t-shirt that clung to him. Like this, she could see the broadness of his shoulders and his toned arms and chest. “Ah,” she uttered, “hi.”

“Amy,” he said quietly. “I have a good idea as to why you invited me up here.”

Perhaps she wasn’t as subtle as she had hoped. “You do?”

He hummed an affirmative, and tentatively reached out to touch her cheek. “While I was not watching long enough to be considered a voyeur, I did see how Scourge was...handling you,” he murmured.

Amy’s eyes were transfixed on his face. She felt a familiar adrenaline course through her.

“Do you...enjoy that?” he asked.

“I...well, I…” she stammered. “Well, it’s not like I don’t. Even if he was a little too rough, he was...enthusiastic.” The truer words were caught in a net behind her teeth. He knew how to fuck, that’s for sure. The way he sucked my clit and bent me over drove me crazy. Sometimes he made me suck on his strap and gag me until tears rolled down my face. I’m a woman, I have needs, and that was one thing he was good at…

Even Shadow’s breathing was getting heavier. The tension in the room could be cut by a knife. He drew himself closer. “I think,” he began, “I think I could do better.”

Amy found herself smiling. Given the flush in Shadow’s cheeks, this may have been forthcoming of him as well. “Would you be amicable to that?” he asked.

She nodded, dazed, and with the green light, Shadow descended on her, their mouths meeting in a soft, yet firm kiss.

Amy was used to the frenzied passion of Scourge, but in comparison, Shadow was deliberate and slow. He wrapped his arms around her in a strong hold, pressing her body flush against his. His skin was soft, and so were his lips, so much so that she briefly wondered if she hallucinated his shutter eyes and he was completely human after all. She stood on her toes to reach him, until he lifted her with one arm by her rear and carried her further into her apartment.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “You really are strong--!”

He sat down on the side of her bed and placed her straddling his lap. “I would hope so,” he said. “Men like Scourge pose no threat to me.”

Shadow stroked the side of her chin and drew her down for another kiss. As they did, Amy ran her hands through Shadow’s black and red hair, impossibly soft. He hummed at the sensation, occasionally turning into a growl. Shivers ran down her spine, and she felt her hips begin to gyrate slowly. Shadow feathered his tongue into her mouth, deepening their kiss; his fingertips teasing beneath her shirt.

Amy could have kept kissing him like that forever, and it felt that way too, until Shadow finally pulled her shirt over her head and ran both hands down her chest. He parted and was flush, eyes darting over her frame. “You are beautiful,” he breathed, and ran a hand over her head to pull the bandana out of it. “I…”

She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, instead tilting his head and running his fingertips over faded hickeys on her collarbone. He then drew her close and kissed the bruises, gently.

“Don’t mind those,” Amy said, out of breath herself. “Just...just a little memento.”

“Do you want more?” Shadow asked, “or would you prefer a gentler touch?”

Any found herself torn at her answer, even as she tried to keep her focus with Shadow fondling her. “Well...it’s just the marks I don’t like, everything else...everything else about it is okay.”

“I can oblige,” he said.

With one hand, he slipped her bralette over her head, then cupped her breast in one hand. He thumbed her nipple, but with one flick, a spark of electricity shot from his thumb. It felt no more painful than a static shock, but it still jumped her.

“Ack!” she yelped.

“Too much?” he asked. He put more pressure on her nipple, and tried again. This time, the shock was dulled, a more pleasant mixture of pleasure and pain, and she rolled her shoulders. “How about that?”

“That’s...mmn, that’s fine,” she replied.

With that, he nodded and proceeded to kiss her neck, only grazing his teeth against her skin. Like everything, it was purposeful, it was firm and in control, and Amy found herself melting into his arms. Even with the small, brief shocks, she relaxed and found herself moaning softly, for once without purposefully forcing it.

Shadow shifted gears—he lifted her and placed her on her back on the bed, taking a moment to remove his shirt as he did so. Amy reached up and ran her hand down his chest. It was smooth and soft like the rest of him, and she could still feel his heartbeat through her fingertips. Although, there was another, more subtle humming vibration that she could also feel—the mechanics of it all, beneath his skin.

Shadow did not let her ruminate further, as he took her hand away from his chest, kissed her palm, then pinned it above her head. He ran a finger down her arm, across her collarbone, then up to her lips, where he meditated there, pressing it on them. She parted her lips instinctually, kissing the fingertip, and obliged when he pressed it further into her mouth. Amy sucked on Shadows finger, lewdly licking its underside as she squirmed beneath him. Another finger in her mouth, widening the girth, allowing her to fantasize about his cock instead. Shadow parted her thighs with his free hand, pulling down her leggings with surprising dexterity.

“Ahhn,” she sighed, salivating.

She opened one eye to glance at Shadow’s face—his eyes were heavy-lidded, and fully focused on her, chest heaving from heavy breath. He pulled down her underwear with little ceremony, but smiled to himself as he did so.

“What?” she said through his fingers.

“You have been ready for a while now,” he said. “I apologize for making you wait.”

Before she could reply, he slipped a finger on his free hand between her lower lips, gliding effortlessly against her clit. She cried out as she accustomed herself to the sensation, wet and sensitive as she was. Shadow seemed to enjoy it, as he bit his lip. As Shadow withdrew his fingers from her mouth, she sat up to drag her eyes over his figure, imagining how hard he must be, given how eager he was to pleasure her…

Shadow adjusted his fingers, and pushed two inside her, angling his thumb against her clit. The pressure and sensation as he filled her was beautiful release, and her head lolled back. Slowly, he settled into a rhythm, thrusting into her with curled fingers and massaging her clit. Every other rotation, a spark flicked onto her clit, making her shudder and thrust her hips.

There was restraint in every thrust, every motion, even has he grabbed her hips with his other hand to keep her steady. “Ahn, you can, ah, you can go faster...go harder…” she said.

He looked directly at her as he quickened his pace. Amy found herself helpless to do much else but moan, but deep inside, she wanted more out of him. She wanted him to ravage her, and if he wouldn’t do it, she would instead. Another small shock to her clit took her one step closer to the edge, the very precipice of pleasure, and her own frantic excitement began to get the better of her. “More, more,” she chanted. “Ah, I want more--!”

She sat up further and bounced onto his lap, grabbing Shadow by the back of the head and mashing her face into his lips. She kissed him hard, tongue in his mouth as she furiously yanked at his pants, desperate to remove them as quickly as possible. “A-Amy,” Shadow said between kisses. “Hey--”

“I want you,” she moaned, completely unbound and naked as she ripped his pants off him and pushed him back. “I want you, so bad, so deep in...in...uh…”

She stared down at his crotch. What she expected to see was his erect cock, hard and ready to greet her.

Instead, there was nothing.

“As I was trying to tell you,” Shadow said, “I did not come...prepared.”

Amy tilted her head, still staring, her desire quickly morphing into confusion. “What?”

He sighed. “I am an android. I technically have no need for genitalia, and I am sterile.” He wiped his hand across his face. “I do have a functional penis, and a vagina too, for that matter, I simply...did not expect to need either of them, so I did not equip them.”

“Huh,” was all Amy could say. It was quickly becoming apparent to her that she simply could not assume what was beneath one’s underwear, because she was frequently wrong in her limited experience of doing so. Cautiously, she reached forward and rubbed against Shadow’s smooth, featureless crotch, as smooth as the rest of his body.

When she did so, Shadow rolled his head back and began to growl. “Ahh, ahh, beee careful…”

She paused, then stared down at her hand, and back at him. “Oh.” Perhaps there was nothing there, but he could still feel something. This changed everything. “Ohh. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, still unable to speak. Amy gave it another rub, this time with more pressure, and watched as Shadow writhed, gripping the sheets around him. “I see how this works,” she said, grinning devilishly. “I can work with this. Hold on.”

She hopped off the bed, acutely aware of how slick she was between her thighs, and opened up her bedside dresser. Inside, she rummaged around until she found a bottle of lube, a pink, transparent dildo with glitter in it, and an accompanying harness. She tossed the toys and lube onto the bed and hopped back into position. Shadow had recovered, and examined her findings. “Ah, I see,” he said.

“Just in case,” she said. “I might want you to use the strap on me--”

“Might?” Shadow asked, picking up the dildo. “You seemed quite eager to be penetrated.”

The haze of arousal had left her in the confusion, and she found herself blushing. “Well, yeah--”

“Allow me.”

He poured a healthy amount of lube on the dildo, then crawled over to her, aiming between her legs. She spread them eagerly, and covered her mouth as he rubbed the tip of the dildo against her clit. With a moment’s hesitation, he took some of the lube that covered his hand and rubbed his own crotch with it, sighing as he did so.

“Does it feel good?” she asked.

His eyes glowed a deep red, and he nodded. “I...have not experimented with...this configuration, I will admit…”

Shadow allowed himself to float in the haze for a moment, before he returned his attention to Amy. He promptly pushed the dildo inside her, slowly, but all the way to the base. She squeezed on it and sighed, delighting in the full feeling it gave her. He didn’t take as long to start thrusting it into her, settling into a steady, but quick rhythm.

“H-hey,” she managed to say, “I thought...I was...I was gonna...I was…”

“Yes?” he replied innocently, resting his free thumb on her clit. “You were saying?”

“I was...ahhn, I was going...to pleasure you!” she huffed. He zapped her with his thumb, sending sparks through her body. “Aaah!”

“I assumed you would need to be aroused again,” he replied. “I enjoy seeing you...at the peak of your pleasure…”

She was beginning to get there once again. He could fuck her more precisely with his arm powering the dildo than his hips (she knew from some experience with a certain other lover), and harder as well. Not to mention the occasional electric shock to her clit was edging her to a fantastic degree; she could practically taste the sex in her mouth.

“Nnn, I’m ready, I’m ready,” she whined, squirming as she batted his hand away. “I want you, here, here…”

Shadow pulled the dildo out of her, and Amy proceeded to scramble onto his leg, straddling high up on his thigh, flush with her dripping cunt. With four fingers, she cupped his crotch, still slippery from the lube he had placed there before. “See if you...ah, if you can finger me too,” she breathed.

He nodded and managed to slip one finger between her clit and his thigh. His brow furrowed, and then his finger began to pulse, like a vibrator.

“Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed, and thrust her hips.

At the same time, she began rubbing against his crotch, and Shadow’s eyes fluttered. His own hips flinched, and he brought her into a hard kiss, the pulsing from his finger growing quicker by the moment. Their kisses were clumsy and open mouthed, fueled by pure ecstasy, and Shadow groaned deep into her mouth. “Hnn, Amy...ahh…”

Amy continued to thrust her hips, fully giving herself into every sensation assaulting her, including the dirty feeling of fucking her lover’s thigh like this. Desperate and needy, anything to get off, to get off, to cum, cum, cum…

The orgasm washed over her like a wave, and she grabbed at his crotch, grinding her hips hard and wailing into his shoulder.

“AHHH! YES!” she cried, her toes curling and flexing. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled, and the pulse at her clit turned into a genuine shock as Shadow himself started to vibrate.

“Ahh, nnnaaAAH!” Shadow’s orgasm was wordless, but she could hear the whine in the back of his throat, and watched his eyes glow bright, changing over to gold versus their normal red. Hastily, he yanked his hand from her crotch as sparks crackled in his hand, unable to control their fury. He did keep his other hand on her hips, and gripped it hard enough for her to wince.

Almost as soon as it began, it was over. Amy collapsed on Shadow, and he fell back on the bed.

“You’re...you are all right?” he panted, stroking her hair. “I...I had to...I didn’t want to give you...shock your heart…”

Amy giggled. “I’m fine,” she replied. “Much more than fine, actually.”

Shadow lifted his head to look at her, his eyes returned to their normal hue, and smiled, gentle and kind. “Good,” he replied. His eyes wandered over the slope of her curves, then returned to her face, and he gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. “If you so wish, I can continue to pleasure you.”

She barked a laugh and squeezed her thighs together. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I will pass out otherwise. She looked around her mostly dark apartment. “What time is it?”

“Time to rest,” he said, despite having the look of someone who knew exactly what time it was, down to the second. “I assume you will need to clean up.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh, but nestled herself into his chest. “But...let me stay here for a while.”

If she had something like this to Scourge, he would have balked at her. Normally, he would be the first one up, harness and dildo in hand, heading to the shower to wash up, leaving Amy alone in bed. She could imagine Sonic doing the same sort of thing, blitzing off to the next thing without a thought to any afterglow or aftercare.

Shadow curled his arm around her, his steady breathing and heartbeat a soothing rhythm. Amy found herself grasping for her typical comparisons; her Sonic-shaped yardstick to measure all lovers with was falling short. Shadow was a very different sort of man. Perhaps it was the turning point.

She dozed off in his arms, in spite of herself.

#okay i wrote 7.5K of GREAT SMUT for an INCREDIBLY NICHE AU. this was for ME

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